Floodland has the same dark atmosphere as First and Last and Always, except bigger and badder. And all that bombast in an attempt to be more powerful actually makes it, well, less oppressive and bleak than its predecessor. In a way, it works for the better. Eldritch is still an awful vocalist that the band would be better off he just shut up or simply quieted down, but here his in-your-face, try-hard, guttural vocals actually sound in place next to the louder guitars and the greater abundance of shiny synthesizers. If there were such a thing as stadium gothic rock, Floodland would surely be it. The Sisters of Mercy take themselves less seriously this time around and they’re much easier to like because of it, personality-wise.

This increased confidence also lets the band come out of their shells a bit. There’s much more variety in song structures and sounds here than on the simpler pop-rock approach of First and Last and Always. Take the downright gentle ballad “1959,” for example. Or the 11-minute Gothic-gospel soul-stomp of “This Corrosion,” complete with backing vocalists. It’s something no one else in their field had attempted until now. And I dig that acoustic guitar strumming on “Flood II.”

Floodland is certainly the more ambitious album out of the two Sisters of Mercy classics, and the variety of songs makes it a less tiring listen than First and Last and Always, even though it’s a bit longer. However, sometimes the subtlety of the more hidden hooks of the first album are missed. It’s just a shame Eldritch didn’t work well with them, so it’s almost a moot comparison on which approach is better for the group; Floodland is the superior album.