The Failures

It's really terrible. But you fell for the hype, you spent the money and so you feel like you have to pretend you're into it.

Such a great album! Sam Reid and Daniel Hart really did it for us. Absolutely love it!!

FOR BEING A FICITIONAL BAND, THIS IS LITERALLY A MASTERPIECE. SAM REID, DANIEL HART, AND EVERYONE INVOLVED WITH THIS PROJECT.. WOW AMAZING. MAKE MORE

What a complementary album to the show and to the book. Your biggest fan is straight out of The Vampire Lestat book. I’m amazed. If anyone ever decided to attempt to do another Lestat: The Musical, the music is right here.

Lestat will be the first Vampire to hit the airways and hope he gets a Grammy, SAG, Oscar and Louis.

A better Lestat performance than Queen of the damned. This is the way the Vampire should sound. Not mad at this purchase at all. I dig it.

This album as a companion to the season is so incredible. I have these songs on a constant loop. Sam Reid is an incredible performer, actor and singer. To be able to embody Lestat while acting and while signing is incredible.

If you watched the show you already know the songs! I was waiting for this, because I got sick of listening to commercials while listening to Spotify! Been playing it nonstop!

Sam Reid is a excellent singer

These songs…they take your ears and heart hostage. Perfect soundtrack for the show. Make more!

There are albums you listen to, and then there are albums that invite you to become someone else while they’re playing. The Failures does something stranger than that, it reminds you that we’ve all been someone else, over and over again. By now, the mythology surrounding Lestat de Lioncourt threatens to eclipse the man himself. The monster. The lover. The liar. The survivor. He’s been called all of these things, sometimes before breakfast. Somewhere along the way, we forgot he was always trying to tell us one thing: pay attention to the music. And now, impossibly, we have no choice. The first thing that strikes you about The Failures isn’t its ambition, though it’s gloriously ambitious, it’s its heartbeat. Beneath the thunder of guitars and cathedral-sized choruses is something startlingly fragile. This isn’t an immortal reflecting on eternity from his throne. It’s someone sitting in the wreckage of two centuries asking whether being known is worth the terrible price of being seen. Rock and roll has always belonged to outsiders. Vampires simply got here first. There’s a moment that happens at every great concert. The lights go down, the crowd holds its breath, and for three or four impossible minutes, thousands of strangers feel understood by someone they’ve never met. That’s the space The Failures occupies. It feels less like listening to an album and more like standing shoulder-to-shoulder with every version of yourself you’ve spent a lifetime becoming. And isn’t that what Lestat has always been selling us? Reinvention. The great trick of this album is that it refuses to choose between spectacle and sincerity. One moment, Lestat is every inch the immortal rock god, all swagger, seduction, and dangerous smiles, and the next he’s singing with the kind of naked honesty that makes you slightly uncomfortable for listening. It’s difficult to tell whether you’re being seduced or confessed to, which somehow feels entirely appropriate. He understands something the greatest frontmen have always known: people don’t fall in love with perfection. They fall in love with the cracks. The Failures wears its scars proudly. It sings about longing without sentimentality and regret without apology. There are ghosts in these songs, not merely the supernatural kind, but the human ones. Lost loves. Bad decisions. The versions of ourselves we buried because they hurt too much to carry any further. Lestat simply refuses to bury his. He hands them a microphone instead. Perhaps that’s why the title feels less like self-indictment and more like revelation. Failure implies an ending. This album argues it’s simply another beginning. Listening to The Failures feels like finding yourself at 2a after everyone else has gone home, the lights are low, the stories have become honest, and someone you’ve admired from a distance finally decides to tell you the truth. Not all of it, of course. This is still Lestat we’re talking about. Mystery is his native language. But enough truth to leave fingerprints behind. And then there’s the joy of it all. For an album steeped in darkness, The Failures is wonderfully alive. It laughs at itself when lesser artists would take refuge in self-importance. It understands that theatricality isn’t the enemy of authenticity, sometimes it’s merely authenticity dressed for the occasion. It dances in the moonlight and cries in the shadows and never once apologizes for either. After all, immortality was never the point. Being remembered was. The Failures isn’t merely a vampire’s album. It’s an album about surviving yourself long enough to become someone worth singing about. It understands that we’re all collections of beautiful mistakes and unfinished stories, that perhaps our failures are simply the evidence that we loved something enough to risk losing it. The greatest rock albums don’t just soundtrack our lives. They become part of our mythology. Somewhere tonight, beneath stage lights and centuries of longing, an immortal vampire has finally become exactly what he was always meant to be. A rock star. And for forty extraordinary minutes, he’ll make you feel immortal, too.

Sam Reid brings The Vampire Lestat to life in full rock star fashion in this impressive collection of new songs from the third season. Fang-tastic!!!