Roadrunner Records - 1988
8/10
When your entire musical career has basically been a giant case of "wow, it will be tough to follow that up!" you're susceptible to eventually realizing it. King Diamond's third solo effort "Them" is a fantastic record, which few would dispute; it's just the fact that everything King has touched to this point has set the bar astronomically high. Thus, said third installment may feel regressive by comparison, even though in a vacuum there isn't a lot to complain about. As a side note, this is probably one my favorite album covers in the entire discography.
As a whole, it paints its picture with familiar colors of the signature wails, falsettos, harmony, and spooky melodies for everything to rest on. As a first, we have the front man himself playing a character, working like an inevitable first-person narrative, that utilizes the same shades of suspense through galloping progression, pummeling drum kicks, and different layers of tones to sift through. In short, the formula isn't much different than what we got before with Abigail, a fine place to draw inspiration from. Start to finish, the glaring difference is the general flow, as moods seem to change more often from song to song rather than from supposed "acts" of several songs together.
Much of that is owed to arrangement and placement. Utilization of catchy hooks don't appear as often as one might expect, and sharp leads as muscular padding fall into the role of traditional guitar solos more often than they do as transitions or pairings with verses. Absolutely nothing from that formula sticks out as wrong, but it does become harder to find moments that press deep into the emotions, be it for a scare or some other affect. What's good about this is that the best moments are truly immaculate. "The Invisible Guests" is rightfully a staple, raking in powerful riff sequences and haunting coatings that add wonderful life to the hooky chorus. The uneasy intro of "Mother's Getting Weaker" is a great tone-setter as the story shifts to the parts around unclean spirits affecting the family, and the Twilight Zone-adjacent affects in "The Accusation Chair" break beautifully into a power-stance riff. Hell, even "Twilight Symphony" drives discomfort and perhaps sadness into the skin with its tragic ending, even though by this point on the record I'm ready for things to wrap up.
Where "Them" falls short just boils down to leaning too hard into the horror-cartoon narrative that worked so well before as a crutch. Songs like "Tea" feel like reworked filler to simply fit a vibe, and I'm not much a fan of the disjointed center of "Bye, Bye Missy," especially because its thunderous opening is such a great reflection of the action's climax. Moreover, three of the eleven tracks are theatric non-songs that didn't need to be their own tracks. Regardless, most of this is still a fantastic experience, and it's fair to say I'm hard on it because of the precedence set before. The bigger picture has a few holes one can poke, yet certain parts alone are greater than the sum.
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