In September 2014, Between the Buried and Me bassist Dan Briggs tweeted the following message to the band's near 44,000 followers: "It has begun! #rockopera." Ten months later, the quintet released Coma Ecliptic, a lavish concept LP with a storyline dense enough to make Pete Townshend blush. The band structured the album, their seventh, like a prog-metal Twilight Zone, with each song tracing a mysterious journeyman's cosmic comatose voyages. Few bands in the 21st century earn the "rock opera" label without falling on their faces. For these guys, it's a sign of maturity.
The band first ventured into conceptual writing with its two-part Parallax EP series, 2011's Hypersleep Dialogues and 2012's Future Sequence. And it opened up a new creative portal. "We realized this aspect of concept albums that we find really appealing: The music ties in with the lyrics, which ties in with the artwork, which ties in with the videos, which ties into the live show," Briggs says. "It's cool to present a package that's all-inclusive — those records where you open it up and you're injected into the story."
Between the Buried and Me, which also includes singer/keyboardist Tommy Rogers, guitarists Paul Waggoner and Dustie Waring and drummer Blake Richardson, are continuing to push themselves — and their concept-album ambitions — even further on their eighth and latest album Automata: a two-part project inspired by depression, Chris Cornell's 2017 suicide, and the voyeuristic nature of fandom.
"Writing this record lyrically was very stressful," says Rogers. "Normally when I write a concept record, I plan out everything before I start diving in ... This one was different. You watch these behind-the-scenes on series like Breaking Bad, and they're like, 'We had no idea where it was going to go in the next episode, but we just figured it out.' I wanted to do that. There were a lot of moments of self-doubt and self-pity and crap, but it turned out really cool because all these different layers happened that I would never have originally thought of."
Briggs and Rogers spoke to Revolver about their 10 favorite concept albums — from David Bowie's holistic approach on Ziggy Stardust to the Mars Volta's mind-altering suites on Frances the Mute.
The Beatles – 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' (1967)
"For me, the Beatles are up there as my favorites, for sure," Rogers says of the group's pioneering eighth album. "I couldn't imagine the mindset they were in to create such a theme. Just the whole idea of it being a different band, how they just wrote these bizarre songs. They probably didn't think too much about it, honestly. They probably just let the drugs do the talking."
"It was the first time they weren't touring and just focusing on experimenting in the studio, trying to outdo the Beach Boys and Pet Sounds," Briggs adds. "It's pretty cool to think about the fact that, once that experimentation started taking place within mainstream music, it was almost like a competition, like, 'Hey, can we outdo these guys?' I think the idea was kind of like writing an album not as themselves. The bass player Esperanza Spalding did that with her last record [Exposure], almost writing in a Sun Ra way, channeling this other spirit or character. There are still people doing that idea — it's a good way to tap into something different."
David Bowie - 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars' (1972)
"What I've always loved about Bowie is that, in the Seventies, every album was like, 'That's not what I'm going to sound like anymore,'" Rogers says. "With Ziggy Stardust, he created a person and just lived it and wrote music as a different thing. It sucks that Garth Brooks ripped it off. [Laughs] Remember when he did that [as Chris Gaines]? You know it was because of David Bowie. There are just so many different layers. He might be the most layered musician I can think of. His catalog is crazy, man — he did it right up until his death bed. It's not my all-time favorite album he's done, but the idea of creating a band and a person and living it and being it and not being yourself — as an artist, that's such a cool idea because sometimes you don't want to be yourself."
Pink Floyd - 'The Dark Side of the Moon' (1973)
"That's one of the earliest records I remember listening to where you put it on and the tracks bleed one into each other and flow as one thing," Briggs says of the band's acclaimed, multi-platinum LP. "Before you know it, you're like, 'Wait, isn't that the same chord progression I heard 10 minutes ago? Oh, my God, they're doing it!' It's the same thing with the lyrical themes, and that's what's made that album last for so long."
"It's cool that an album like that came out when it did and was such a mainstream success," Briggs notes. "They did it. It's by far the most popular progressive, conceptual album ever."
Magma - 'Mekanïk Destruktïẁ Kommandöh' (1973)
"That's another band I discovered through my dad," Briggs says of the French Zeuhl pioneers. "They're a conceptual band. Their drummer, Christian Vander, developed this whole crazy story and adapted their own language. That fucking record in particular is so tribal — the way they'll beat this syncopated rhythm into your brain by not only the rhythm section but also the choir of people chanting. Of the music of that time, it's some of the most violent. It's French prog, but it's rings more like avant-garde jazz to me. It's pretty out-there."
"We played a festival with them in Spain, and it was cool because it was only like five bands," the bassist continues. "They were playing right after us. I was super jazzed, and I remember we played, and I was poking around upstairs afterward in the dressing room. [Vander] came out of the bathroom, and I eventually recognized him — not in a fanboy way, but I was like, 'Hey, are you Christian?' I went to shake his hand and was like, 'We were just onstage. Looking forward to seeing you guys.' And I remember he didn't get the chance to dry his hands off in the bathroom, and he was kind of embarrassed. He wiped his hand, shook my hand before going onstage. They're just completely awesome, bizarro older people. It's inspiring to see. With aging musicians, there's always old jazz guys, but John McLaughlin just retired. I saw Robert Fripp play this past fall. That old generation of real-deal weird rockers — it's kinda cool to see, 'Oh, you can be that old and still [experimenting].'"
Camel - 'Moonmadness' (1976)
"That was a record that my dad got me," Briggs says of the British band's fourth LP. "Growing up, I remember always obsessing over certain covers and albums that he had, and there were these groups like Camel and Gentle Giant and Frank Zappa that I remembered from an early age. He never pushed it on me, though. When I was late in high school getting into college, those records were coming back. I had other gateway prog bands, modern prog bands, who were mentioning the names of all these groups, and Camel was one of the ones I got into. I started talking to him about it, and he gave me that record. They were such a cool band because they had great technical prowess but such a lush sound, as well. They didn't have to overplay or anything."
"That's what always drew me to Camel: the fact that they had this technical aspect to them but they were super mellow and almost straightforward at times," Rogers adds. "Moonmadness is just one of those records. When I listen to Opeth, I'm like, 'God, they love Camel!' It's such an important band for our generation."
Tears for Fears - 'The Hurting' (1983)
"The Hurting … fuck!" Briggs enthuses of the British duo's brooding debut. "What a cool first statement to make as a band. It's not so much a conceptual story, but there are conceptual themes that run throughout it, going back to their childhoods. There are certain words, even just 'hurt' or 'hurting,' that pop up throughout the album. It's really interesting when you sit down with the lyric book and pore through it. It's a great record. People forget that 'Mad World' comes from that record, and even though there's has an upbeat drum beat, it's still a fucking downer of a tune. That one had a sense of art-rock, too, before they were full-on mega big."
"Thats what always drew me to them: They had a pop sensibility, but there's a darkness there," Rogers notes. "I like when music is super down but you also have an element of pop in there. They straddled the line so well."
Pain of Salvation - 'BE' (2004)
"BE is so fucking weird," Briggs says of the Swedish group's fifth record, laughing. "I remember when that record came out, and that was when I first heard the band because Tommy and [drummer Blake Richardson] would be listening to it in the van. I would hear the fucking folk song [sings "Imago"], and I was like, 'What is this? I love this!' But it's so theatrical. It's so over the top, and you would think that [singer-songwriter Daniel Gildenlöw] is straight up onstage with so much emotion he puts into his lines, even when he gets quiet. I don't know how well known they are outside the prog circles in America. They're from Sweden, and they're a little bigger in Europe. I love them so much. They have so many great records: Road Salt [One], Remedy Lane. But I love the dynamics of the BE record. It's got one song that's like a straight-up delta blues song. There's much stuff on that record."
"[Gildenlöw] is the most theatrical modern prog singer, I think," Rogers adds. "If you can, watch the live DVD. He's a character. He changes his outfits; he's barefoot. It's a whole thing, man."
The Mars Volta - 'Frances the Mute' (2005)
"De-Loused in the Comatorium to me is like the classic, like the Dark Side of the Moon of the collection," Briggs says of the prog band's 2003 debut. "But there's something about the music and the slight evolution of that album into Frances the Mute. There's some real hard-hitting, cool, syncopated rhythm section stuff. They locked in like crazy. And, of course, it ends with that crazy suite with five tracks — this sprawling thing. It has musical themes that run throughout it, and it's tied together with these weird segues after each song, which, depending on when I'm listening to it, I sometimes skip. Sometimes I'm like, 'I'm on a five-hour drive, and I want to hear this all.' For my love of records that are written conceptually, the musical part of it is such a great thing as well. We saw [guitarist-composer Omar Rodríguez-López] at an airport in Mexico once, but I couldn't go up to him. I remember he had on a Seventies brown corduroy suit. He looked very Omar. I couldn't just be like, 'Hey, Omar — I just wanted to say hey.'"
"I've loved the Mars Volta forever," Rogers gushes. "They're getting back together, right? I feel like most people listened to the first album, and that was kinda it. Probably my favorites are the first two, but I think every album is awesome. You never know what's next, and that's why I love 'progressive' bands."
Nine Inch Nails - 'Year Zero' (2007)
"From what I remember from reading interviews with Trent Reznor, this is from when they were on the road and writing on their laptops more than they had in the past," Rogers recalls of the industrial rock act's fifth album. "It's a polarizing record. Musically, it's not my favorite Nine Inch Nails album, but it's the theme that's just perfect for them. I wish they would do more conceptual things because they have such a dark, dystopian mood anyway, and Year Zero the quintessential 'Everything's fucking ending' album. They did some really cool promotion at that time. They included an alternate reality video game, and they were trying to start up a potential television or film project. It was super ambitious at first. They dropped off USB drives, and somebody found one at a concert at Portugal. It had some noise that was at the end of one of the songs. They did some weird stuff. I've always been a diehard for anything they do."
The Dear Hunter - 'Act III: Life and Death' (2009)
"On the surface, a lot of people write them off as an indie-rock band or whatever because they do have those songs, and sometimes those are the songs people hear," Rogers says of Between the Buried and Me's current tourmates. "They're one of those bands you have to really dive into to experience how progressive they are and how much different stuff they do."
"Their name's been thrown around since like 2006 or 2007, like, 'There's this band. Would you like to do something with them?'" Briggs adds. "I'm kind of anxious to talk to [Casey Crescenzo] about it, but I'm pretty sure they started with a concept, kind of like Coheed [and Cambria] or whatever. They put out like five of those acts with this big story. The third one's always been my favorite because it seems a little darker. The subtitle is Life or Death, and there's a lot of stuff about war and loss on it. They're such a fucking creative band. On that record, there's everything from Beach Boys to freak-out space stuff to slow piano songs. They're such a cool modern progressive band."
