Fallen is the major-label debut of Evanescence, a Little Rock, AR-based quartet led by the soaring vocals of 20-year-old Amy Lee. Emboldened by the inclusion of its single "Bring Me to Life" on the soundtrack to the hit film Daredevil, Fallen debuted at an impressive number seven on Billboard's Top 40. But "Bring Me to Life" is a bit misleading. A flawless slice of Linkin Park-style anguish pop, it's actually a duet between Lee and 12 Stones' Paul McCoy. In fact, almost half of Fallen's 11 songs are piano-driven ballads that suggest Tori Amos if she wore too much mascara and recorded for the Projekt label. The other half of the album does include flashes of the single's PG-rated nu-metal ("Everybody's Fool," "Going Under"). But it's the symphonic goth rock of groups like Type O Negative that influences most of Fallen. Ethereal synths float above Ben Moody's crunching guitar in "Haunted," while "Whisper" even features apocalyptic strings and a scary chorus of Latin voices right out of Carmina Burana. "Tourniquet" is an anguished, urgent rocker driven by chugging guitars and spiraling synths, with brooding lyrics that reference Evanescence's Christian values: "Am I too lost to be saved?/Am I too lost?/My God! My tourniquet/Return to me salvation." The song is Fallen's emotional center point and defines the band's sound.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

It seems like a minor miracle that Evanescence released their second album at all, given the behind-the-scenes toil and trouble that surrounded the aftermath of their 2003 debut, Fallen, turning into an unexpected blockbuster. Actually, so much drama followed Evanescence that it's hardly the same band anymore. Certainly, pivotal songwriter/guitarist Ben Moody is no longer with the band, leaving not long after Fallen had become an international success, and sometime after that, they lost their bassist -- leaving behind Amy Lee as the indisputable leader of the band. She always was the face, voice, and spirit of the band anyway -- dominating so that it often seemed that she was named Evanescence and not fronting a band called that -- but by the time the group finally released their long-awaited second album, The Open Door, in October 2006, there was no question that it was her band, and she has learned well from the success of Fallen. Pushed to the background are the Tori-isms that constituted a good chunk of the debut -- they're saved for the brooding affirmation of a closer, "Good Enough," and the churning "Lithium," which most certainly is not a cover of Nirvana's classic (that song never mentioned its title, this repeats it incessantly) -- and in their place is the epic gothic rock (not quite the same thing as goth rock, mind you) that made Lee rock's leading witchy woman of the new millennium. And she doesn't hesitate to dig into the turmoil surrounding the band, since this truly is all about her -- she may artfully avoid the ugliness surrounding the lawsuit against her manager, whom she's alleged of sexual harassment, but she takes a few swipes against Moody, while hitting her semi-famous ex, Shaun Morgan of Seether, directly with "Call Me When You're Sober," as blunt a dismissal as they come. To hear her tell it, she not only doesn't need anybody, she's better on her own. Yet artists aren't always the best judge of their own work, and Lee could use somebody to help sculpt her sound into songs, the way she did when Moody was around. Not that she's flailing about necessarily -- "Call Me When You're Sober" not only has structure, it has hooks and momentum -- but far too often, The Open Door is a muddle of affections. Sonically, however, it captures the Evanescence mythos better and more consistently than the first album -- after all, Lee now has no apologies of being the thinking man's nu-metal chick, now that she's a star.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Difficult births are no stranger to Evanescence. Nothing ever quite seems to come easy for Amy Lee, yet the five years separating Evanescence’s 2006 sophomore effort The Open Door and its eponymous 2011 album were relatively quiet, the band undergoing some lineup changes -- not to mention a switch of producers, from Steve Lillywhite to Nick Raskulinecz -- but nothing comparable to the messy departure of Ben Moody between the group’s first two albums. Such comparative calm is reflected within the grooves of Evanescence, which is less tortured tonally even if it remains quite dramatic. Lee’s default mode is to sing to the rafters, her operatic bluster sometimes overbearing when her settings are gloomy, but Raskulinecz pulls off a nifty trick of brightening the murk, retaining all of the churning drama but lessening the oppression by brightening the colors and pushing the melody. While there’s hardly a danger of Amy Lee removing her thick mascara, she’s not pouting all the time; there’s some shade and light here, some variety of tempos, enough to give Evanescence the illusion of warmth, not to mention a fair share of crossover hooks. It’s aural candy for aging goths and tortured tweens alike.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Amy Lee may have intended the title of Synthesis, Evanescence's fourth album, to represent the combination of the organic and artificial -- or how the symphonic merges with the electronic -- but this isn't necessarily a huge leap from her earlier work. From the outset, Evanescence sampled seemingly contradictory styles -- metal, goth, and prog were equal partners on their 2003 debut Fallen -- so this transition to unabashed pomp and circumstance doesn't seem sudden, especially as it's arriving after a long six years. Synthesis also feels familiar because all but three songs (plus a piano solo) are taken from the group's three previous albums, with selections from their eponymous 2011 album taking center stage at five selections. Immediately, it's striking that the onslaught is a natural fit with Amy Lee, whose powerhouse vocals often wrestle the orchestra into submission. Next, the layered, skittering electronic rhythms grab attention, and far from keeping the music in a straitjacket, the precision of the beats help give Synthesis a steel spine, reinforcing the bombast of the band and strings. This successful fusion also amounts to a step forward for Evanescence, as this kind of proudly theatrical arrangement would suit Amy Lee well for years, and that's why Synthesis doesn't feel like a holding pattern: It feels like the start of a new chapter.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Ten years after their last album of original material, alternative metal outfit Evanescence continued their late-era comeback with their fifth full-length, The Bitter Truth. In the decade following their enjoyable (but by-the-numbers) self-titled third set, Amy Lee and company -- guitarist Troy McLawhorn, bassist Tim McCord, drummer Will Hunt, and guitarist Jen Majura -- kept the brand alive with tours and album reissues, but the project wasn't fully reignited until the grand orchestral reimaginings of Synthesis arrived in 2017. Riding that creative wave, they got to work on what would become The Bitter Truth, barreling through the COVID-19 lockdown and completing the album with producer Nick Raskulinecz (Korn, Halestorm). Standing tall alongside their breakthrough debut, Fallen, and its follow-up The Open Door, Truth is one of the band's most engaging works, balancing sonic power with Lee's inimitable vocals and songwriting. Amidst world events, personal loss, and global turmoil, the group flips that pain and darkness by focusing on healing, self-growth, and emotional maturation. From the first keyboard twinkles on opener "Artifact/The Turn," Lee commands the show, setting the stage with a haunting Tori Amos-meets-Dido dirge that bubbles to life with atmospheric electronics. Everything clicks together once the band joins Lee on "Broken Pieces Shine," with pounding drums, lurching bass, chugging riffs, and minor-key harmonies buffering her soaring voice and stirring lyrics. Even through cries of "I'm not fine," she urges listeners to embrace the bad with the good, both for survival and empowerment. That sentiment courses through the album, as metallic muscle pushes her urgent messages, like when she declares "I will be more than my survival" on the yearning "Part of Me" and calls for redemption of a broken world on "Blind Belief." "Use My Voice" is a rallying cry that Lee penned to inspire personal awakening and female empowerment; to drive the point home, she recruited Sharon den Adel (Within Temptation), Lzzy Hale (Halestorm), Taylor Momsen (the Pretty Reckless), Lindsey Stirling, and many more for the inspirational gang chorus. The Bitter Truth also serves plenty of callbacks, such as the crunchy "The Game Is Over" and the corrosive "Feeding the Dark," which could have easily found a home on Fallen and The Open Door, respectively. Additional heavy highlights include "Better Without You," a whirlwind of down-tuned guitars, clattering production, dramatic piano chords, and a show-stopping chorus; the torrential "Take Cover," which blasts toward the horizon atop a frenzied attack that is the closest they toe the nostalgic nu-metal line; and the unexpectedly groovy "Yeah Right," which manages to sound like Muse meets Billie Eilish. For fans of quieter moments like "My Immortal" and "Lost in Paradise," Lee delivers the sweeping "Far from Heaven," a devastating beauty that once again recalls Tori Amos. Altogether, The Bitter Truth carries listeners on a journey both familiar and fresh, recapturing the heavy-yet-melodic hallmarks that made Fallen one of the most successful albums of the 2000s and pushing Evanescence into the future with a graceful maturity and worldly perspective.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

Anywhere but Home is a live chronicle of where Evanescence have been since the spring 2003 release and subsequent sextuple-platinum reign of their debut album, Fallen. Recorded at a tour stop in Paris, the set includes all their hits, as well as a previously unreleased studio track ("Missing"). While it's a fine holdover until the recording of a proper studio follow-up, Home also reasserts Amy Lee's position at Evanescence's center. Throughout the band's rise, there was the drama -- co-founder Ben Moody's contentious departure, the are-they-or-aren't-they Christian rock debates -- but there was always the singular force of Lee, whose powerful vocals, strident public persona, and striking fashion sense broke down the doors of the alternative metal boys club. Appropriately, Lee is the star of Anywhere but Home. Her voice has an impressively raw quality live, and her banter with the fawning Parisian crowd is always engaging. The mix also favors her (as well as the prominent use of keys/synthesizers), which unfortunately lessens the effect of John LeCompt and Terry Balsamo's guitars and Rocky Gray's impressive drumming. Still, "Going Under" surges nicely into its anthemic chorus, and when the guitars do show up (like on "Everybody's Fool"), Lee matches their power easily. She takes a softer approach for the arch piano ballad "My Immortal," which becomes a singalong moment for 5,000 souls, and that song leads nicely into an extended vocal intro for the breakthrough hit (and Home standout) "Bring Me to Life." (Evanescence's cover of Korn's "Thoughtless" will be another fan highlight.) The album closes, as does Fallen, with the swirling, vaguely Eastern-tinged metal melodies of "Whisper," and Lee's throaty vocal endures even as the synths and processed choir effects threaten to engulf her.© Johnny Loftus /TiVo

Difficult births are no stranger to Evanescence. Nothing ever quite seems to come easy for Amy Lee, yet the five years separating Evanescence’s 2006 sophomore effort The Open Door and its eponymous 2011 album were relatively quiet, the band undergoing some lineup changes -- not to mention a switch of producers, from Steve Lillywhite to Nick Raskulinecz -- but nothing comparable to the messy departure of Ben Moody between the group’s first two albums. Such comparative calm is reflected within the grooves of Evanescence, which is less tortured tonally even if it remains quite dramatic. Lee’s default mode is to sing to the rafters, her operatic bluster sometimes overbearing when her settings are gloomy, but Raskulinecz pulls off a nifty trick of brightening the murk, retaining all of the churning drama but lessening the oppression by brightening the colors and pushing the melody. While there’s hardly a danger of Amy Lee removing her thick mascara, she’s not pouting all the time; there’s some shade and light here, some variety of tempos, enough to give Evanescence the illusion of warmth, not to mention a fair share of crossover hooks. It’s aural candy for aging goths and tortured tweens alike.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

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A moderately successful, if somewhat obvious fusion of more traditional instrumentation with composed electronics and effects. Periodic vocals tend to distract from the shifting, exploratory nature of the music, but the instrumental tracks are well-crafted examples of dub-influenced experimental electronica. © Sean Cooper /TiVo