This blog represents my rants, raves, recipes, reviews and other "just-for-fun" writing of mine. Please visit our publisher's website and FaceBook page by clicking the A Carrier of Fire links below. Alternatively, you can view my other work by clicking the other links below. Thanks for visiting!

Friday, June 5, 2009

Octahedron.

1. Since We've Been Wrong - 7m20s
2. Teflon - 5m04s
3. Halo of Nembutals - 5m30s
4. With Twilight as my Guide - 7m52s
5. Cotopaxi - 3m38s
6. Desperate Graves - 4m56s
7. Copernicus - 7m22s
8. Luciforms - 8m21s

I imagine somehow that, for the rest of my life, there will not be another 18-month period in which I don't find myself getting excited about a new album release by The Mars Volta. They've released progressive-rock opuses flavored with salsa influences in 2003, 2005, 2006 and 2008, and the 23rd of June, 2009 will see the release of their fifth album, 'Octahedron,' of which I'm pleased to have heard and written a full review. Before all that, the band's enigmatic history and musical style begs retelling.

The Mars Volta centers around (and was formed by) Cedric Bixlar-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, former vocalist and guitarist for At the Drive-In, respectively. Their debut album, 'De-Loused in the Comatorium,' seems to be a concept record about a friend of the band, Julio Venegas, who experienced a brief coma. It features bass guitar work by Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and some of the first of Zavala's trademark labyrinthine vocals and Lopez's lightning-fast, brilliant guitar work. Its follow-up, 2005's 'Frances the Mute,' is another concept album whose meaning is still debated on Mars Volta message boards and forums. Some say it's about the Catholic church covering up a pregnancy in its congregation (or one of its convents), others declare it a murder mystery about a promiscuous single mother.

It was by the time 'Frances' was being heatedly debated that I realized just the kind of cult following Mars Volta has. This isn't Green Day, who everybody on Earth knows and maybe has a copy of 'Dookie' or 'American Idiot.' No, this is a band with devoted fans, challenging, arcane albums and a real love-them-or-hate-them notoriety.

Following 'Frances,' the band released 'Amputechture' and 'The Bedlam in Goliath,' the latter a semi-true story about an antique Ouija board Lopez bought Zavala in Jerusalem while touring for 'Amputechture.' While promoting 'Bedlam,' the band said that after its procurement, they started feeling cursed by random misfortunes that would happen seemingly without warning: key members of their band and crew would quit mid-tour, leaving Lopez and Zavala to scramble for a replacement; master audio files of completed performances for 'Goliath' would vanish off their studio computers; and whenever they tried to use the artifact to talk to spirits, it unfolded a love-triangle melodrama to them involving pregnancy, betrayal and death. Goliath's "Wax Simulacra" won a Grammy in 2008, and it is much deserved.

A typical Zavala lyric will consist of juxtaposed metaphors laced over 1970s-style epic rock poetry. In the 'Bedlam' song "Cavalettas," Zavala screams "Primordial cymatics giving birth into reverse / cerated mare ephemera undo her mother's curse." Lopez's orchestration of the band's music will often contain two to four time signatures per song, sometimes switching back and forth between them at every juncture of a track. Their shortest true song, "Son et Lumiere," introduces 'De-Loused in the Comatorium' at just around 90 seconds. Their longest studio song, 'Cassandra Gemini,' breaks 32 minutes. They're one of the most unique bands I've heard without breaking the barrier of being complex and challenging just to be called complex and challenging. Nearly every time signature change, borderline-Dada lyric, machine-gun drum progression and song structure somehow fall into place, making about as much sense during, yet leaving the audience with as much sense of reward and resolution afterwards, as a David Lynch movie.

The first 'Octahedron' track to escape to the masses was its first UK single, "Cotopaxi."

Cotopaxi is a volcano in Ecuador.

Clocking in at a brief 3m39s, it's about as energetic, rapid-fire and radio-friendly as The Mars Volta has been in the last few years. A recording of a radio broadcast satiated fans until a proper rip of a promo CD sent to radio stations surfaced a week or two later.

The next track we snagged is the album's opener, "Since We've Been Wrong." "Wrong" opens with 90 seconds of quiet, growing synthesizers that culminate in a Zeppelinesque acoustic guitar and Zavala's warm, bluesy vocals with a clean electric guitar gliding in the background. It's not until over five minutes in the entire band kicks in, with drummer Thomas Pridgen slapping us in the face with his full, slow percussion that helps solidify the 3/4 time signature until the song retires at over seven minutes.

You know how you go to see a band live, and maybe you're familiar with a good deal of their singles and big songs but not necessarily every track on every album? For me it was Cake, last week when I saw them at DC's 9:30 Club. I really, really knew about 7 or 8 of their songs really well but was mostly going because my fiance and cousin love them and are fanatics. I found myself asking them, after the show, "What was that song, where he was saying 'We're building a religion'? 'Cuz I gotta get that fucking song." It was "Comfort Eagle," but that's besides the point. If you were a casual Mars Volta fan, if such a thing exists, "Teflon" is the song you'd hear them play at a show and maybe you talk through it with your friends about how drunk you are, or the ride home, or how cool it is to see the band live, or what that guy's afro looks like, but then when it ends you turn to your friend and say "Hey...what was the name of that song? I might have to maybe kinda pick up the album that's on." It's mid-tempo, it's easy to listen to and not incredibly as technical or bizarre as their other work but still deserves some real respect. In the chorus, Zavala sings "Let the wheels burn, let the wheels burn / Stack the tires to the neck with a body inside."

Following that is "Halo of Nembutals." I don't know what "Nembutals" are. It took me a while to learn what some of their other song titles were, like "Agadez" and "Askepios," but by the time "Halo" settles into its solid 3/4 groove and deeply infectious chorus, does it really matter? This, and "Teflon," lead nicely into "With Twilight as my Guide."

"Twilight" is a quiet, steady acoustic piece with a long outro by keyboardist Isaiah Ikey Owens. "Twilight," in context with the other songs, anchors 'Octahedron' in straightforward, almost-predictable-but-not-in-a-bad-way structure, progression and pace. It's as easy and smooth as Pink Floyd's "Is There Anybody Out There?"

"Desperate Graves," which follows "Cotopaxi," gave me a clear taste of 'Octahedron's' quality bass work by Juan Alderete, who joined the band in 2003. The song itself is good, but not as ear-catching as others on the record. Long-time Volta fans may be reminded of the tone of 'Amputechture''s briefest outing, "Vermicide" - it's nice and mid-tempo, rocks during the chorus and relents for the verse, leaves a good taste in the mouth but isn't exactly legendary. Pridgen's drum work here is fantastic, especially in the choruses.

Then there's "Copernicus," the only song on the album that necessitates being taken with a grain of salt. It deceptively starts like some of the other relaxed songs on this album, two normal verses and choruses, and suddenly onslaughts with an awkward electronic drumbeat for a bizarre minute. The first four minutes of slow clean guitar and Zavala's gentle crooning carry the first half, and the skittering programmed percussion reminds us of Nine Inch Nails's 2007 release, 'Year Zero' before vanishing and being replaced by Owens' talent for the last several minutes. It takes some growing, but I'm glad to hear it.

'Octahedron' closes with "Luciforms," which has some stiff competition to me - I thought of three of their four previous closing tracks as just what the doctor ordered. 'De-Loused' had "Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt," which finds its way onto about half the mixtapes I construct for my friends. 'Frances the Mute' had the 32-minute opus "Cassandra Gemini," which blows my mind every time I have a half-hour to devote to it. 'The Bedlam in Goliath' ends with "Conjugal Burns," a six-minute attack on the Ouija board that cursed the band (including a two-minute noise jam that culminates in one last chorus that returns to slice your fucking head off).

"Luciforms" rocks your socks. The entire band sounds right at home with everything they're doing and have the chance to really shine. Like many tracks on this album, "Luciforms" disguises itself as straightforward and plain for the majority and ends (for 3 minutes) with a powerful jam by all five musicians.

If your friends were just getting into The Mars Volta, this is the album to which you'd introduce them. It's not as hard, challenging and esoteric as some of their other work but showcases all the talent and quirky brilliance that is often exhibited by the band. Get it, and get it ASAP.