There are tribute shows.
There are nostalgia tours.
And then there are nights where a guy walks on stage at 67 years old, stares Father Time directly in the face, and basically tells him to shut the fuck up and sit down.
That was Friday night at Taft Theatre as Geoff Tate and his band Operation: Mindcrime brought Operation: Mindcrime to life in a performance that felt less like a concert and more like a full-blown theatrical detonation inside one of Cincinnati’s most historic rooms.
Built in 1928, the Taft has seen legends come and go for nearly a century. Friday night, it witnessed another reminder that great music doesn’t age, it just gets louder, darker, and somehow even more dangerous.
The lights dropped. The room went black.
Then came the unmistakable hospital sounds.
“I remember now. I remember how it started. I can’t remember yesterday. I just remember doing what they told me, told me, told me…”
And just like that, the audience was no longer in downtown Cincinnati. They were inside the world Operation: Mindcrime.
For fans of Queensrÿche, this wasn’t just another catalog run-through. This was a front-to-back performance of one of the greatest concept albums ever recorded, delivered with precision, intensity, and enough emotional weight to remind everyone exactly why this record still matters nearly four decades later.
Let’s address the obvious elephant in the room: Geoff Tate hasn’t been in Queensrÿche since 2012. The band kept the name. Tate retained the rights to perform the Operation: Mindcrime albums in their entirety and ultimately built an entire touring identity around them.
Honestly? Good.
Because what happened Friday night didn’t feel like a watered-down nostalgia act clinging to old glory. It felt like the guy who originally helped create the madness simply decided to reclaim it.
And here’s the truly absurd part: Tate still sounds unbelievable.
At 67 years old, the man is still hitting notes that singers half his age dodge in fear. There was no visible decline. No “adjusted melodies.” No strategic crowd-sing moments to hide vocal fatigue. He attacked the material with the same sharpness, tone, and theatrical command that made him one of progressive metal’s defining voices in the first place.
The band behind him absolutely deserved the spotlight too.
Kieran Robertson was a monster all night. The guy played with the confidence and swagger of a veteran arena guitarist while still carrying the fire and recklessness of someone young enough to think sleep is optional. At just 27 years old, Robertson ripped through the album’s intricate leads with frightening precision while somehow making every solo feel dangerous instead of rehearsed. There’s a difference between “playing the notes” and owning them. He owned them.
Clodagh McCarthy brought a massive theatrical presence to the stage, particularly during her performance as Sister Mary. Her vocals were powerful, haunting, and emotionally sharp, exactly what this material demands. Visually, she became part of the production itself. Positioned stage right on a raised riser beside the drum kit, her rotating keyboard stand and perfectly timed stage fan gave the performance an almost cinematic quality. Somewhere between gothic theater and prog-metal fever dream, it worked brilliantly.
The rhythm section deserves major credit too. Every transition, tempo shift, and layered arrangement landed with surgical execution. Operation: Mindcrime is not simple material. These songs twist, turn, and evolve constantly. One weak link destroys the illusion. There weren’t any weak links Friday night.
And then… things got weird.
Midway through the set, the band suddenly bolted off stage.
Not “rockstar dramatic exit” bolted.
More like “something is very wrong” bolted.
The audience sat in confused silence for a moment before Geoff Tate calmly returned to explain that the tour bus was apparently on fire outside and that Cincinnati’s finest was handling the situation.
Because of course this show needed an actual real-life disaster subplot.
In true rock-and-roll fashion, the crowd stayed patient, Tate disappeared again, and the band returned shortly afterward apologizing before jumping directly back into the performance like, “Anyway… where were we before the possible explosion?”
Honestly, the interruption somehow made the night even more memorable. You can’t script that kind of chaos. Well… unless you’re in Spinal Tap.
The final stretch of the evening was pure payoff. The band completed Operation: Mindcrime, added material from Operation: Mindcrime III, and then rolled into several classics that reminded everyone just how deep Geoff Tate’s catalog really is.
“Empire” hit like a freight train.
“Jet City Woman” turned the entire theater into a choir.
And “Silent Lucidity” became the emotional centerpiece of the night.
Before performing it, Tate explained that it remains his favorite song because fans constantly approach him with stories tied to it, memories, relationships, moments in life, and yes… apparently the conception stories of their children. Nothing says progressive metal quite like thousands of people collectively realizing a power ballad accidentally became part of America’s population growth strategy.
By the time the final notes faded inside the Taft, one thing was painfully clear:
This wasn’t a legacy artist limping through old material for a paycheck.
This was a masterclass in how timeless music survives lineup changes, industry politics, aging, and even apparently a flaming tour bus.
For one night in Cincinnati, Geoff Tate and Operation: Mindcrime didn’t just revisit a classic album.
They reminded everyone why it became one in the first place.
Band Members
Geoff Tate – Lead Vocals
Clodagh McCarthy – Vocals & Keyboards
Kieran Robertson – Guitars
Dario Parente – Guitars
James Brown – Guitars & Vocals
Jack Ross – Bass
Daniel LaVerde – Drums
Management
Boyd Crews – Manager
Gordon Robertson – Road Manager
Photography by: Michael Deinlein