Although the official release date for this landmark album may be time-stamped as 2021, the omnisciently observational content of вЂњ Crash of the CrownвЂќ readily brings to mind an amalgamation of historical events that occurred in 1066, 1455, 1775, 1861, 1941, and even 2001 without citing any of them by name - Winston ChurchillвЂ™s prescient wartime observations that permeate the pervasive pleas of вЂњSave Us From OurselvesвЂќ notwithstanding. Whether itвЂ™s the heady rush of the groundwork-laying opening track вЂњ The Fight of Our Lives,вЂќ the wistfully observational treatise of вЂњ Reveries,вЂќ the cautionary extended hand of comfort and redemption that frames вЂњ Hold Back the Darkness,вЂќ the undeniable uplift of вЂњ Our Wonderful LivesвЂќ (a beautiful sentiment further embellished by a most welcome, first-ever appearance by a banjo on a Styx album!), or the elegiac clarion call for shared grace in вЂњ To Those,вЂќ вЂњ Crash of the CrownвЂќ is music that is both concurrently of its time and truly timeless all at once. ThatвЂ™s why STYX remains relevant after all this time, because weвЂ™re part of the human condition.вЂќ вЂњBoth he and Will have been able to tap into the core elements of the human condition, which is something thatвЂ™s not going to change that much in 50 years - or even 500 years. вЂњ IвЂ™m constantly amazed at how TommyвЂ™s songwriting continues to connect with the social consciousness that spans across generations,вЂќ marvels Chuck, who plays on вЂњ Our Wonderful LivesвЂќ and вЂњLost at Sea,вЂќ LawrenceвЂ™s all-too-brief aquatic fever dream. Of all those who made the trek to Nashville, original Styx bassist Chuck Panozzo - who, along with his late twin brother, drummer John Panozzo, formed the initial nucleus of Styx when they began jamming together in their basement on the south side of Chicago in 1961 - is hands down the most effusive about the experience. Safety precautions took precedent for all involved Styx bandmembers and production compatriots with much diligent quarantining and testing required before any one of them could travel to ShawвЂ™s tranquility homebase to spread the uniquely ingrained Styx stardust thatвЂ™s been duly sprinkled across the albumвЂ™s cosmically chosen 15 tracks. I also got to use some gear I never thought IвЂ™d have the chance to play on a STYX record like TommyвЂ™s Hammond B3 organ, my Minimoog, and my Mellotron.вЂќД®fforts to record вЂњ Crash of the CrownвЂќ began in earnest at ShawвЂ™s home studio in Nashville during the fall of 2019, with Gowan - StyxвЂ™s criminally minded showman extraordinaire and keyboardist/vocalist since 1999 - in the room together with Shaw and the albumвЂ™s producer, Will Evankovich, as he conjured up the albumвЂ™s first song to be recorded, with cosmetic flourishes that reign over the insistent, yearning call for togetherness, вЂњ Common Ground.вЂќ But the global pandemic that inevitably transformed the way we all wound up living in 2020 changed the course for how many of the bandвЂ™s home-and-away recording sessions ultimately had to set socially distanced sail. The beauty of it is that itвЂ™s the culmination of all our talents crammed together into one song, ABBEY ROAD-style. вЂњ IвЂ™m always looking for the one different thing we can do and still have it be STYX,вЂќ the ever-ebullient Gowan notes, вЂњ and thatвЂ™s the song IвЂ™m most proud of. Actually, itвЂ™s the first cut in the bandвЂ™s storied canon to feature three lead vocalists, seeing how it has James вЂњJYвЂќ Young unleashed at the starting gate, Tommy Shaw heading up the heroic stacked-vocal middle section, and Lawrence Gowan leading the vocal charge for the final verse. The song вЂњ Crash of the CrownвЂќ itself breaks some brave new world ground for Styx.

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