Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. I’ve long wanted to use this essay series as a spotlight to shine on one of my favorite ’80s US metal bands, Lizzy Borden. I just wasn’t sure which album to highlight. Sure, I could’ve gone with my personal favorite, and the personal favorite of every true maniac for that matter, Love You to Pieces (1985), but that would’ve been too obvious. Instead, I’m opting for the band’s oft forgotten, yet undeniably groundbreaking fourth album, Master of Disguise (1989). In today’s essay, we’ll revisit the events that led up to this metal opera, where it lies in the scope of the Borden canon, and why it deserves to be viewed as a crowning achievement in metal history. “It’s a psychodrama!”
Named after the infamous acquitted axe murderer, Lizzy Borden formed in ’83 and quickly struck with their debut demo. Not long after, the band signed a deal with Metal Blade, who put out their debut EP, Give ‘Em the Axe (1984), and subsequent debut full length, Love You to Pieces (1985). The band’s fusion of Twisted Sister and W.A.S.P.-esque theatrics with US power metal aggression made for a unique listen, resulting in such classics as “Red Rum”, “Save Me”, and “American Metal”. A live album and companion VHS, The Murderess Metal Road Show (1986), further cemented their infamous reputation as a visual act.
Off the heels of Road Show, Lizzy Borden shifted gears towards a more accessible brand of traditional metal, toning down the extremity of past releases on what can be described as their commercial breakthrough, Visual Lies (1987). Chock full of big choruses, air guitar ready riffs, and a production on par with Dokken, the album landed Lizzy Borden onto MTV and FM rock radio, largely thanks to its lead single, “Me Against the World”. As with every ’80s metal act who achieved some sense of mainstream notoriety, the question remained: How would they follow it up?
By ’89, the metal scene had changed drastically. Both thrash and glam were at an all time fever pitch, the latter dominating the charts, airwaves, and MTV, while the former saw the likes of Metallica and Slayer become unlikely arena headliners. Traditional metal was shifting as well, with 1988 seeing Queensrÿche’s unexpected evolution from US power metal overlords to sci-fi metal futurists to progressive metal pioneers with their magnum opus, Operation: Mindcrime. Similarly natured albums from Fates Warning (Perfect Symmetry) and Savatage (Gutter Ballet) would follow, but not before Lizzy Borden struck first with Master of Disguise.
A rather ambiguous concept album centered around a protagonist struggling with sex addiction, Master of Disguise was unlike any Lizzy Borden album prior, or any metal album out at the time for that matter. Sure, it took its fair share of cues from Mindcrime, but the emphasis on orchestral arrangements makes a case for this being an archetypal symphonic metal album, for better or worse. Furthermore, everything about the songwriting of Master of Disguise, from the lyricism to the musical arrangements, is mature. The Lizzy Borden of ’85 couldn’t have written an album of this caliber. Hell, the Lizzy Borden of ’85 would probably call the Lizzy Borden of ’89 posers for attempting something this ambitious!
Master of Disguise opens with its 7+ minute title track, establishing the mood for the rest of the album and narrative in all its pomp metal glory. Borden’s vocal delivery and the twin guitars of newcomers David Michael Phillips and Ronnie Jude are less focused on punching you in the gut and more focused on setting the stage for a musical voyage, similar in approach to rock operas of the ’70s like The Who’s Quadrophenia (1973) and Pink Floyd’s The Wall (1979). Considering all of these ’80s bands were children of the ’70s, it’s no wonder these influences eventually found their way into the music of said bands.
After this bombastic prologue, we dive head first into the exposition of the story with “One False Move”. An ominous symphonic ballad that relies on dramatic strings, army style drumming, and the passionate vocals of Borden, “One False Move” serves as a warning from the protagonist (“One false move and you’re blown away.”) and a foreshadowing of what’s to follow. This then segues into the brass-driven “Love is a Crime”: A pop metal ode to phone sex, but not in the glorifying way one would expect of the era. There’s something dark, sinister, and forbidden about this song, a quality that’s even addressed in the lyrics (“I know it’s wrong. My time is gone. I can feel your touch right through the phone.”)
These themes of sexual immorality are further explored on the aptly titled “Sins of the Flesh”. On this song, Borden sings from the perspective of the very lust that has captured the protagonist’s mind, with such damning lyrics as “Life flows into my veins from angels in your eyes.” and “No one must ever know I own your soul.” One could imagine such dark lyricism being in place on Love You to Pieces. Ironically, the accompanying music isn’t far removed from the US power metal of Borden’s heyday, albeit unleashed with a sense of sophistication.
“Phantoms” progresses the narrative with melodic metal finesse, chronicling the protagonist’s current obsession with one woman in specific. However, many question remains about this woman. Who is she? How did she meet the protagonist? Knowing the protagonist’s current state of mind, is said woman even real to begin with? The allusion to “phantoms” and “dreams” makes us wonder all this and more, blurring the line between fantasy and reality ever so subtly. We’re then greeted by the closer of “act 1”, “Never Too Young”. A colossal AOR piano ballad, with the right push, this song could’ve garnered airplay on adult contemporary radio alongside the likes of Heart and Michael Bolton. And yet it doesn’t feel forced, or even wimpy for that matter.
As we flip over to side B, “Be One of Us” takes charge with its tempting lyricism and ethereal chorus. Whereas past Borden efforts saw the notorious frontman showcase his Halford-esque screams with ease, Master of Disguise shifts focus towards layered choir passages. Perhaps no song on this album better embodies this approach than “Be One of Us”. It’s as if one could get lost in the wall of sound. This then gives way to the song that embodies the topical genre of this album, “Psychodrama”. Similar to “Sins of the Flesh”, this cut too takes place in the listener’s head, the loss of sanity presenting delusions of grandeur.
Contrasting this outburst of insanity is sanity’s attempt to break through surface in “Waiting in the Wings”. The chorus of this symphonic ballad reads, “I’m waiting in the wings. I’m waiting for a way to make it out. I’m waiting in the wings. Take a chance you’ll believe in me somehow.” Those early USPM tendencies rear their ugly head yet again on “Roll Over and Play Dead”. In what can only be described as a pomp metal headbanger, Borden tackles “the enemy” of our protagonist, shooting daggers at everyone from “Sinners and cowards and hypocrites creedless” to “sluts” to “Whitecoats and cutthroats”.
Not to be confused with the KISS song of the same name (also off of a concept album, Music from “The Elder), “Under the Rose” is a quaint acoustic buildup to the album’s grand finale, “We Got the Power”. Whereas most concept albums tend to conclude unhappily or ambiguously, “We Got the Power” is an unorthodox happy ending, in which our hero (who also addresses himself as the villain) reclaims his personal freedom. To put it bluntly, he’s got the power! This is reinforced by an uplifting hard rock soundtrack and self-empowering lyricism.
Unfortunately for Lizzy Borden, despite their grandest musical ambitions being fully realized, Master of Disguise did virtually nothing in the way of commercial success. In fact, it would be over a decade before they’d release another album, the also criminally underrated Deal with the Devil (2000) (more on that another time). That said, there’s no denying Master of Disguise‘s role in the continuing sophistication of traditional metal in the late ’80s and early ’90s.
The aforementioned Queensrÿche, Fates Warning, and Savatage would continue to explore this musical territory into the new decade. Dream Theater would explode onto the scene with their second album, Images and Words (1992), and W.A.S.P. would shock the masses yet again with their conceptual masterpiece, The Crimson Idol (1992). Hell, albeit on the AOR/hard rock side of things, even Meat Loaf had the second coming of a lifetime with Bat Out of Hell II: Back into Hell (1993): A comeback that I like to think wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the general public’s newfound acceptance of such bombastic rock and metal music. There’s no denying Master of Disguise‘s part in this niche, where it comfortably resides 35 years on, waiting for us to see it from the corner of our eyes.