At the exact moment that I type this, Evanescence's second major-label album, The Open Door, has been released into stores. As you might have gleaned from the recent series of posts, I've had this bad-Oscar in my possession for the last few weeks. Not wanting to rush into an opinion, I've deliberately taken my time before formally reviewing it for you. But given the occasion, I think it's time.

But where to begin? Perhaps, as they say, at the beginning.

Technically, it was at a professional wrestling event when I first heard the band that would come to dominate my life like no other before or since. At the time, of course, I paid little to no attention. Sure, I bobbed my head a few times and thought it sounded pretty okay -- but it wasn't until a few days later when I discovered their demo tapes online that I fully surrendered my soul to Evanescence.

This was just a couple weeks before Fallen, their major label debut, hit the streets. Clearly, I was a little late to the game... yet the sense (however exaggerated it might have been) that I had discovered something incredible was powerful indeed. And, although I found Fallen to be over-slick and over-produced, I was so enamoured with (what I saw as) the band's potential for true greatness that I could not contain my enthusiasm.

Quickly, I found myself traveling around the Midwest, meeting other fans and hearing the band play live in St. Louis, Nashville, Louisville, Chicago, and a couple times right here in Indianapolis. That first night in St. Louis remains one of the most incredible nights of my life. And the Nashville/Louisville double-header was a worthy successor.

But as time went on my enthusiasm naturally waned. Then came the news that depleted the remainder of my passion: Ben Moody, co-founder, songwriter, lead guitarist and production guru, vanished from the band and then later from the fan community.

After that, I tuned out almost completely. After all, what was left of my beloved band? The three unique voices that collectively made Evanescence something special to me had been whittled down to... one?

Well, now it is over two years later and that single voice returns to bring us The Open Door. While her new bandmates officially collaborated in its creation, Amy Lee is without a doubt the dominate creative force behind this new album.

Upon hearing it for the first time, this disappointed me greatly, for Amy was just part of what made me slap a bumper sticker on my car back in 2003 and haul ass around the country. This... this was not what I signed up for. This was different. This was less.

To make matters worse, this seemed to be song after song of Amy reveling in her blossoming independence without much thought or insight over equally-thoughtless, boring soundscapes.

But as time went on, I found an entry point into the heart of The Open Door -- ironically, its final track, Good Enough, in which a tender, fragile Lee drops her guard and reveals that for all her new-found bravado, underneath she is perhaps even more vulnerable than ever. "Take care what you ask of me," she admits, "'Cause I can't say 'no'."

With that as my starting point I went back through the album over and over again. Upon closer examination, I found amid the mess an ode to change itself... of breaking free of the shackles we let others put upon us. And that, at last, resonated with me and continued to resonate as I discovered more moments of buried brilliance.

After all, change is inevitable. The Evanescence that I came to know so well in 2003 is no more. In its place is a different band, with a different voice. One that perhaps would not capture me as the old one did -- but one that holds wondrous merits all its own. And so for all that The Open Door lacks... for all its flaws... it would seem that I can't say "no" either.

Tonight was one of those nights where profound things seemed to come from nowhere. Kinda like the car that hit my sister's Scion tC and set these events into motion.

But everything comes from somewhere, even that car. Even the unspoken emotions that linger beneath the surface of a dysfunctional family. And there's few things worse than to see the impact coming and yet be unable to get out of the way.

So let's just hope that after the world stops spinning, that everyone will be able to walk away -- just like my sister did tonight.