The Mars Volta - Bedlam in the Goliath (2008 Universal)
by Zedian 
Wouldn’t it be something if we were still whining about how we want At the Drive-In to make a return? Well to the enraged post-modern hardcore junkies the El Paso quintet will never reform, therefore, leaving us with only fragments of the band left in the shape of the rock group Sparta and these guys the prog-art-rock outfit. To try and discern what clusterfucks of Cedric Bixler-Zavala's incomprehensible lyrical jabberwocky mean is like trying to uncover the truth of life but in hyper-speed motion.
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See there is no denying that the Mars Volta are equipped with musical talent and they simply thrive on being different. But it would be great if by the works of an upper terrestrial being if they could somehow manage to channel all of it into something other than a tribute to their own excessive self-indulgence, then maybe we can believe it would probably be totally fucking awesome.
| "See there is no denying that the Mars Volta are equipped with musical talent and they simply thrive on being different. But it would be great if by the works of an upper terrestrial being if they could somehow manage to channel all of it into something other than a tribute to their own excessive self-indulgence, then maybe we can believe it would probably be totally fucking awesome." |
On their latest offering the Mars Volta are finally willing to meet non-converts halfway. First single "Wax Simulacra" clocked in shy of three minutes without a single edit, and while they're still using a compact disc's capacity as a starting point, this time it's broken down into a relatively manageable 12 tracks. Now fewer tracks and smaller chunks of time for each song just means this is Mars Volta’s definition of accessibility; having left the earth's orbit sometime in 2003, they can only go further into the cosmos with no hopes of ever seeing God’s green Earth again.
The general "pro" argument for Mars Volta is that they're a true anachronism of the iPod age, see the Bedlam in Goliath goes great lengths towards actually giving to those who have attention deficit disorders or are simply asking for more in less time (Like me for example). Between Bixler's preposterous lyrics (no need to quote them, you've already gotten the idea by now and no an encyclopedia I found out won’t help). There are some real nice fractious time signature switcheroos of "Metatron", and Ikey Owens' keyboard globules on "Agadez", you'll find plenty of moments worthy of thumping your head and tapping those feet, but in the grand scheme of things they lack any sort of true meaning.
Opener "Aberinkula" is typical of the dynamic assault, erupting like a raging volcano by proceeding to just get fucking louder and louder until the free-time saxophones confirm the scent of ‘bullshit’. Ignoring the basic drumming priority of keeping time, Pridgen solos for about six minutes-- or as much you can "solo" while the rest of the band does their own thing with out getting too loss
in drugs. "Goliath" has an appropriately mountainous riff and lumbering rhythm, but guitarists John Frusciante (Yeah the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s dude) and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez deface each others’ value with useless pentatonic wah-wah soloing in the same manner teenagers use the word "like" in conversation, in other words it gets freaking old people. And in the most preposterous production trick your ears will ever play-listen-to in 2008, 90 seconds into "Cavalettes", the mix gets fried and then sounds like it's being sucked down a toilet before spitting back up almost scaring the living Ryan Seacrest out of you. Then it only gets weirder, that headache-inducing sound repeats over-and-over-and-over for a laborious two minutes.
And I suppose none of this should've been a surprise, but whether it's At the Drive-In's enduring goodwill, a fear of preemptively dismissing the band that could be seen in the eyes of a generation as the premiere 21st century schizoid men, or the brazen conviction with which Mars Volta love to rely on, they always manage to make you at least second-guess your own instincts. But at what cost does all this advancing forward and not looking to the past or the rest of the pack come with?
Sure these guys aren’t afraid to embrace technology, humor, groove, and concision into something that actually sounds like the future but in my ears is all comes out wrong. Instead of sounding like a modern day Pink Floyd or someone else or something else relevant their sound instead mimics that of decade-old noodles in dry ice and snake oil being blended in a giant toilet. I'm sure defenders of the band will champion Mars Volta as a keeper of the prog-rock Gustavo, but for the rest of us who don’t coin in on music just because it’s different, we listen to music because we get something out of it or it sounds good to our ears. Well it renders the term meaningless—which pretty much destroys the very definition of progressive (progressive-rock) which is what TMV are aiming to be.
| Production Value: | 8.0 |
| Technicality: | 7.25 |
| Accessbility: | 3.0 |
| Lyrical Content: | 2.75 |
