At the Drive-in - in•ter a•li•a

At long last, seventeen years after their last true release, At the Drive-In has graced us with a new record, in•ter a•li•a. And while the rest of the world waited with bated breath for May 5 to roll around, my excitement was far more tempered. After a wave of confusion concerning founding member Jim Ward’s participation, followed by the cancellation of their North American tour (on the night I was to see them, no less), in•ter a•li•a felt like a very hard sell for me. Yet the ATDI fanboy within soon won out, and after snagging a copy, this record has not only far exceeded my expectations, but has proven At the Drive-In remains an act with integrity and momentum.

According to Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, the writing for in•ter a•li•a was an attempt to honor where the band “left off sonically last time,” and in this At the Drive-In completely succeeds. These five come at their music with as much energy and virulence as ever. Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s vocals are far more refined than on past releases, but he continues to throw his entire weight behind each note. Tony Hajjar’s drum hits explode like cannon fire, while Paul Hinojos’ bass notes completely dominate the low-end—everything in my car shakes with his bass hits in “Tilting at the Univendor.” Both Omar and Keeley Davis tangle their guitars into an exciting rat’s nest of melody, their effect-laden tones simultaneously fighting and coalescing in tunes like “Incurably Innocent.” The musical chemistry of this quintet is undeniable, making each piece on in•ter a•li•a an exhilarating maelstrom of sound.

So palpable is At the Drive-In’s enthusiasm on in•ter a•li•a that spinning the CD feels like standing against the barrier at a show. The energy is live and dangerous, most likely a result of the way the record was formed. The band began by renting a “bare bones” studio space in South Korea, where they learned to “write with each other.” Following this, their subsequent tour saw the band viciously writing over 70% of the record in a live setting; they even created a “jam room” at each venue so they could pen and rehearse new music before and after their shows. They then dragged this visceral material into the studio, recording under a “no overdubs rule,” as Omar puts it, so “what you want to play has to be what it is.” Every step of this album’s creation was done with a live mindset and in a live setting, letting the honesty behind their endeavor shine bright and unhindered.

The band approached in•ter a•li•a with the intent of rekindling the old ATDI fire (Omar even immersed himself in the same pop culture to conjure that spirit), so it is no surprise that this record feels like the logical follow-up to their monster Relationship of Command. Still, there is an undeniable maturity that provides a completely new feel to the music, as exemplified in the song “Continuum.” Cedric kicks this tune off with a bombastic shout of “I’ll drop a dime on you first,” his vocal melodies switching between barking poetics in the verse and violent singing in the chorus. Keeley and Omar let their guitars play against one another, their tones creating a landscape of sound as they trade rhythm and lead duties. The song swings wildly between dynamics, focusing on insane syncopation across crazy time signatures in the prechorus and dropping to a literal whisper in the bridge. “Continuum” demonstrates At the Drive-In cramming old energy into new ideas to create a bulldozer of excitement and intelligence that blasts from the speakers.

As with the instrumentation, the lyrical content of in•ter a•li•a also exhibits more than a bit of maturation. Though his veils of metaphor are pretty opaque, if not sometimes indecipherable, Cedric’s writing maintains a dystopian theme throughout many of the pieces. “Pendulum in a Peasant Dress” paints a world where media is defined by “finely tuned gestures” dictated by the powers-that-be, the “hand of God” that controls what the world sees and doesn’t see. The lead single “Governed by Contagions” is laden with paranoid images such as the “portrait of a family force fed” and a “homemade remedy to loosen every tongue.” The band even calls attention to the issues of gentrification and destruction of culture in the song “Call Broken Arrow.” Cedric’s attentive writing keeps in•ter a•li•a attuned to the current state of the world and gives At the Drive-In’s manic melodies a message worth conveying.

in•ter a•li•a certainly sounds and feels like a vision fully realized, but as a die-hard fan of their past catalogue, I can’t help but mourn the lack of Jim Ward’s presence on the record. His previous vocal and written contributions were near-pivotal to the experience that was ATDI, and though the band has firmly stated that he “just wasn’t ready” to take part, it is difficult to ignore the many spots in in•ter a•li•a where one of his yells would perfectly fit. And as the band apparently had tried writing new material during their 2014 reunion, material which Cedric and Omar then adapted into the debut release for Antemasque, it is equally as hard not to hear songs like “No Wolf Like the Present” as Antemasque material adapted for ATDI.

While I certainly miss the At the Drive-In with Jim Ward, I would be lying if I said in•ter a•li•a needs his presence to be a great record. Keeley Davis, Jim’s former bandmate in Sparta, undoubtedly provides an awesome and fresh approach to the band, and is also allegedly responsible for my favorite piece on the record: the spacey and dark “Ghost Tape No. 9.” Rocking over filtered drums and a rhythmic chugging chord, this song is dominated by Cedric’s gorgeous, mournful melodies. The entire song takes a step down in energy, letting the dystopian imagery and electronic soundscape fill the void created by the slow tempo and quiet dynamics. The haunting crawl of “Ghost Tape No. 9” is perhaps the most progressive and novel tune on all of in•ter a•li•a, and showcases a direction that I hope At the Drive-In will continue to explore in their composition.

Although I initially felt little more than trepidation at its release, I’m sincerely glad I gave in•ter a•li•a some time. At the Drive-In have lost not an iota of the honesty or energy that initially hooked me, and yet add a maturity to their sound that assures me they are headed for great things. As Cedric puts it, he and his bandmates “trust each other” to bring their best and make “great music,” and there is not a single doubt in my mind that in•ter a•li•a achieves this goal. At the Drive-In remains as honest and exciting as ever, and I will have a hell of hard time containing my excitement at their future endeavors.

Tunes to Check Out:

1) Ghost Tape No. 9

2) Call Broken Arrow

3) Incurably Innocent

Antemasque - Self-Titled

            Like many other fans, when longtime collaborators Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez parted ways with the dissolution of the Mars Volta in early 2013, I was heartbroken. Together, they had formed one of the most prolific duos in the world of music, and their bitter separation[1] had left an alarming hole in the world of rock. However, when they announced a return with their new full time project Antemasque[2], I could not help but be excited, grabbing for a copy of their eponymous debut. After spinning it incessantly for the past few months, I can say with certainty that, although it is not without its faults, I have not heard a record as honest as Antemasque in a very long time.

            In the foundations of both this band and this record is ingrained a very simple mission: for a group of friends to simply express themselves through music, without allowing any deeper terms or purpose to get in the way. In an official statement, the band proclaimed that their debut record “is what happens when artists collaborate for love of playing together, without an end result in mind.”[3] The sound of Antemasque is that of four musicians with a long history (both Flea and Dave Elitch had previously performed with the Mars Volta[4]) reuniting to throw all their energy into some original tunes, and indeed, these guys leave nothing behind. Omar’s jangly melodies and gritty chords wash against Dave’s thundering drum beats, and Cedric’s screams seem ripped right out of the first days of rock ‘n’ roll. While such a basic objective does leave a lot of the record feeling underdeveloped, one cannot deny the absolute ferocity with which these four attack their parts.

            I am always loathe to compare a record to the artists’ previous endeavors, but with every spin, I have a harder time finding significant similarity between Antemasque and anything else Cedric and Omar have created. Undeniably, there are elements of the past present in some tunes—“Ride Like the Devil’s Son” and “Momento Mori” carry a flavor reminiscent of TMV, and “I Got No Remorse” packs as much punch as any At the Drive-In tune—but no part of this record belongs to any act but Antemasque. Omar’s riffs range from prog-rock through punk and into pop, but his open chord shapes and sparse effect work feel more like distilled rock than anything else. Similarly, Cedric’s soulful melodies and raspy wails dominate a sonic territory previously owned by the likes of Robert Plant and Ronnie James Dio. For a duo with an already widespread catalog, cultivating yet another unique sound and style is all but incredible, yet Antemasque gracefully and enthusiastically takes complete ownership of that feat.

            The distinct sound and limitless energy on Antemasque are both positive products of the band’s mission statement of “music for music’s sake;” unfortunately, that mission makes the composition on the record largely come off as both weak and unexplored. Many of Cedric’s lyrics, while perfectly functional, lack a vivid poetic vision, and every song title has apparently been lifted from the lyrics. He relies heavily on clichés, such as the images “arm and a leg” and “long way down” from “In the Lurch,”[5] and this tendency takes away from the strength of any unique or interesting lines he does utilize. And while the instrumental side feels much more fleshed out and developed, the hurried mix leaves the string section feeling thin while the bass drum booms, furthering the “not-quite-finished” feeling that permeates the record.

            Although lacking in some areas, there are still many intelligent decisions embedded in the songs on Antemasque, and no tune feels more complete than “Providence.”  Perhaps the heaviest piece on the record, “Providence” explores a dense darkness that the rest of the album only hints at. The seething and creepy chord progression, complete with syncopated hits announcing each repeat, lays out a sinister scene before exploding into a heavy and hateful chorus. Similarly, Cedric’s warning against “a mess that devours its own” quickly leads into his terrified exclamations of “you will burn me at the stake.”[6] The watery effects and stuttering Cedric applies to his melodies further deepens the disquiet. Every second of “Providence” breeds a sense of unease while pumping adrenaline into the listener, and captures the true potential of this project.

            In the end, the music on Antemasque comes off as interesting yet unremarkable, but the intensity of presentation and performance marks this band as one absolutely laden with potential for greatness. There is a lot of space left unexplored in the record, and a simplicity that jars our expectations of this group. However, this project is at its very core one of friends getting together to make music without any goal or vision in mind, leaving us with an end product that is wholly honest and tons of fun. At its very least, Antemasque gives us a new look at this super-duo’s capabilities; at its most, it shows that there is much to come from this group, if they can maintain the mission. 

Tunes to Check Out:

1) Providence

2) I Got No Remorse

3) 50,000 Kilowatts

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mars_Volta#Hiatus_and_breakup_.282012.E2.80.932014.29

[2] http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/flea-and-former-mars-volta-members-form-new-group-antemasque-20140409

[3] http://musicfeeds.com.au/news/antemasque-detail-debut-release-clarify-fleas-involvement/

[4] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mars_Volta#Band_members

[5] http://www.songlyrics.com/antemasque-lyrics/

[6] http://www.songlyrics.com/antemasque/providence-lyrics/

At the Drive-In - Vaya

            Whereas releasing a full-length record, the definitive collection of audible art, is forever the ideal dream for an artist, such a feat is always laden with expectations, both monetary and creative. Because of the sheer work involved in writing songs, recording, marketing and artwork, not to mention the gross amounts of money spent along the way, a band quickly learns that there is a whole lot riding on the success of their record’s sales. Conversely, the EP, because of its shorter length and production involvement, feels more like a gift than a death sentence. For the fans, the EP is a small record to collect and appreciate; for the label, it’s a small-time release that promotes the act and keeps public interest; and for the band, it is a chance to try new techniques, sounds, and ideas without worrying about sinking the entire ship. The extended play lets a band flex their creative wings, and gives them a few tunes on which to concentrate their expression, regardless of whether or not anyone likes it – and this is exactly what At the Drive-In does with Vaya.

            The band’s penultimate release before their dissolution, Vaya is a heavy dose of distilled ATDI, seven songs composed to the band’s specific and intellectual tastes, and a great example of their dynamic approach to music. Though tempos may vary, every tune drips with pure, unfiltered energy, the fury of youth wound around the precision of experience. Because this record is made up of only seven songs, the band takes the opportunity to really stylize their sound and give Vaya a unique feel. Every song is written in a minor key, allowing for a somber and frustrated mood to settle into the listener, reflected by pervasive time signature changes and dissonant intervals. Similarly, the EP is laden with an electronic influence, showcasing Jim Ward on keys almost as much as on guitar, and featuring a heavy array of new effects. In an interview, drummer Tony Hajjar remarked that the band “get[s] bored really fast” and so always “want[s] to do different things” with their music, finding ways into integrate “new toys” into each subsequent project.[1] Between dub drum beats and squealing synthesizers, At the Drive-In lays a fresh digital flavor onto their melodic and heavy punk tones across the span of this record, filling it with a crisp feel that is neither boring nor hackneyed.

            There is a whole lot of arranging a band can do in the small space provided by an EP, and At the Drive-In wastes not a second. The composition is very focused on this record, and ATDI leaves the listener with seven complex and thoughtful tunes. The guitar work often moves through dissonant territory: Omar Rodriguez-Lopez paints some incredibly tense images across the mind with “Metronome Arthritis” and “300 MHz,” finding tones that are terrifyingly and certainly reminiscent of his later work with The Mars Volta. The sincere amount of thought poured into Vaya shows a maturity rarely seen in punk music, yet the honest blood of these fives musicians screams through the speakers with every spin, proving that they have lost none of their youthful motivation. At the Drive-In approaches the songs on Vaya from a completely novel viewpoint, allowing them to extend far beyond the boundaries of simple music.

            One tune where the band truly lays it all out is “198d,” the record’s emotionally-charged closer. Named for the inscription on the gravestone of drummer Tony Hajjar’s grandmother,[2] this tune voyages back and forth between the realms of ballad and anthem with undeniable grace. Beginning with soft synths and delayed guitar melodies, “198d” feels like a funeral procession, and seems to travel through all seven stages of grieving, wavering between virtually inaudible verses and sharp, wailing choruses. Similarly, Cedric’s vocals are a sympathetic whisper in the verses, sharply contrasting with the heart-rending shouts of the chorus reminiscent of the grief-stricken. The tune’s time signature even reflects the constant changes, morphing into 12/4 in the bridge before sliding back into common time. “198d” encapsulates more sorrow, anger, and attention to detail than most records do, and is a prime cut from a band known for its intelligence and feel.

            Not surprisingly, Cedric’s lyrical contributions to Vaya are just as thoughtful and intricate as the composition. His writing edges heavily into metaphor on this EP, and he takes a firm grasp on the musicality of his words, giving them the feel of pure poetry. His word choices and syntax reflect a deep level of cognition, as he effortlessly juxtaposes images of Roman Emperors with those of the Space Race in “Proxima Centauri,” fusing two vastly different ideas into one seamless movement. Much of the lyrics are focused through a lens of violence, and Cedric’s screaming delivery doubles the effect. Another powerful motif which is handled with care and intensity is that of crime: Cedric’s desperate queries of “What if forensics finds the answers? / What if they stole my fingerprints?” in “Metronome Arthritis” are both chilling and guilty,[3] while his commanding “Let the thieves in through the front door”[4] in “Heliotrope” is one of the most poignant moments on the record. Cedric’s heavy topics and subtle imagery mix very well with the heavy and disturbing tones of the instrumentation, working to maintain the mood of darkness and unrest present on Vaya.

            The brutal and universal honesty at the very root of it is what makes this EP move so powerfully through its listener. Every note of every tune is imbued with absolute importance by this band, a belief that what they’re creating is worthwhile, even if the end result isn’t always spectacular. Truthfully, although certainly listenable, I find “Metronome Arthritis” and “300 MHz” to be too laden with dissonance to truly enjoy them, and the minute-long wait for “Proxima Centauri” to really take off looses a lot of steam from the song. But even if I don’t love every second, I can’t help but appreciate the raw and meaningful veracity At the Drive-In has poured into it. In an interview with Buddyhead, Omar stated that even though “people want the same record” to be made over and over again, At the Drive-In refuses to bend, because for them, making music is about “keeping ourselves happy and entertained.”[5] There are no delusions or ulterior motives, which is why even the worst decisions on Vaya work so well. The sincerity of the music is so prevalent that it seems almost its own instrument, and deftly resolves any harsh moments of noise into robust and gritty successes.

            Though the record is tinged with some lukewarm moments, one song where At the Drive-In slaughters from start to finish is the punchy “Heliotrope.” Perhaps the fastest tune on this EP, “Heliotrope” offers an intricate blend of both punk intensity and post-hardcore aesthetics. The band tears through heavy verses, as Omar yanks notes from the bottom of his neck and Cedric all but tears the lining of his throat out. Tony’s drum beats are simply insane, and he leaves no part of his kit unbruised. In stark contrast to this madness are the more melodic-based choruses, where guitars whine and the rhythm section sounds more like a gentle knock than blunt trauma. The juxtaposition of loud and soft, beauty and fury pervades “Heliotrope;” Cedric’s entire vocal is screamed, but poetically powerful lines like “Heat seeking, gums bleeding / fingers snapping at the catacomb stabbings”[6] only gain from his guttural delivery. With its delicate shape and exhausting pace, “Heliotrope” is a tune that incites both moshing and intellectual discourse, an unsteady and almost unheard-of combination of mind and body.

            Besides providing us with some incredibly intricate compositions, Vaya is a record of this band’s complete fearlessness in pushing boundaries in their music, a factor few artists even consider, never mind wholeheartedly embody. At the Drive-In uses this EP to make some new choices and take some new turns, and while not all of them work, the fact that they had the gall to try anyways makes a bold statement about what it means to be an artist, and is the reason Josh Watkins of Heave Media labeled this EP “the last vestige of the band at full force.”[7] With Vaya, At the Drive-In throws its entire weight behind its musical movements, and whether the ship glides, rocks, or sinks, it is obvious they plan to follow their course to the very end. For all the things that this EP does hold, there is not a single trace of fear in its beats or screams, and such a silence has never sounded so good.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Heliotrope
2) 198d
3) Proxima Centauri

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[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3LOAlnjUbk

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vaya

[3] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/atthedrivein/metronomearthritis.html

[4] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/atthedrivein/heliotrope.html

[5] http://www.buddyhead.com/1999/05/25/interview-with-at-the-drive-in/

[6] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/atthedrivein/heliotrope.html

[7] http://www.heavemedia.com/2012/04/24/45-rpm-at-the-drive-in/

The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium

            As a lover of music, I am constantly recommended new material by my friends and peers. I do my best to experience these suggestions, but it sometimes takes me years to finally give it a listen, even if the particular act I’m being recommended is universally acclaimed by those whose opinions I hold dear. For years, I had heard the name The Mars Volta spoken with reverence and awe, but I had never allowed myself to delve into their catalogue, until a few good friends urged me to pick up their first record, De-Loused in the Comatorium. And when this record finally did make its way into my hands, I found myself immersed in a completely novel, completely indescribable world of music that I have since come to revere.

            My fresh fascination with De-Loused, and thus The Mars Volta, rises from the fact that I have truthfully never heard anything like this before. The myriad of sonic pulses on this record make it transcend the very idea of genre. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez’s guitar work ranges from high-voltage punk thrashing to deft solos reminiscent of Led Zeppelin to salsa-injected finger-picking, and being the main composer on the record, the rest of the band is truly tailored to fit into his intense compositions. Ikey Owens’ keys dominates any treble space left untouched by Rodriguez-Lopez, while Flea absolutely tears apart his fretboard on the bass, laying runs and rhythms that perfectly meld with the monster drumming of Jon Theodore. Rounding out this chaos of intense musicianship is the sonic stylings of Jeremy Ward, whose sound manipulation and effects loops allow for the vibrations of the band’s music to form tangible environments that are downright disturbing. Together, this group conjures a powerful tapestry of sound on a scale to which few have aspired, which Tiny Mix Tapes calls “an earful of flavourful, imaginative and cognitive music.”[1]

            Where the instrumentation sparks a dark universe within ­De-Loused in the Comatorium, Cedric Bixler-Zavala populates it with his emotional and erratic vocals. Cedric approaches his voice as an instrument, with melodies that climb and dip and double-back like the mind of a maniac. He often layers his vocals with heavy effects, or spits small lines that Ward shapes into frightening moments to be incorporated into his sonic nightmare segments.

            Cedric’s lyrical method is just as unique. He apparently houses a very poetic mind, for his word choices are almost exclusively intense and vibrant. His incendiary vocal only enhances their effect, as he wails through lines that raise the hairs on my arm every time, such as with “Spector will lurk / Radar has gathered / Midnight nooses from boxcar cadavers.”[2] He relies heavily on metaphor, which is made only more interesting by the fact that his lyrics unite the tunes of De-Loused into a theme record, reflecting a short story written by Bixler-Zavala of the same name (which you can check out here), loosely based on the life and death of artist Julio Venegas.[3] His style of writing reflects a stream-of-consciousness approach, which, while keeping the original intent of the writing hidden, allows the listener to thoroughly insert his own meaning into each line, and to draw his own emotional connection from the story. Also, by taking the focus away from the specific meanings of the words, Cedric zooms in on the sound of his lyrics, furthering his instrumental contribution to the record. Though some of his phrases can come off exceptionally weak (for example, “transient jet lag ecto mimed bison”)[4] no one can argue that Cedric’s interpretation of his role as vocalist is both progressive and interesting.

            The approach to both composition and performance that this band takes is a complete synthesis of energy and cognition, two very dangerous ingredients to play with in music. Much of the songwriting is built on the idea of tension and release, where the music creates an uncomfortable space before resolving into something considerably more pleasing. While countless acts have used tension before, none have taken it to the level that The Mars Volta does on De-Loused, where the sought-after resolving moment is often denied to the listener for most of the tune. This tension is embedded in the compositions, as the band stutters between tempos, rhythms, and time signatures, refusing to the let the listener find their bearings often until the final moments of the song. For instance, the opening riff of “Inertiatic ESP” is repeated almost randomly throughout, denying the listener a foothold by removing the idea of a downbeat, and making Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s declaration of “I’m lost” all the more poignant.[5] Similarly, in tunes like “Cicatriz ESP” and “Drunkship of Lanterns,” the tunes are built to collapse into the maelstroms of Jeremy Ward, which lull the listener into dark corners of noise before exploding back into the song proper. All of this madness works to reflect the true insanity embodied by the story, for a man’s trip through his own mind must indeed be a dark one. While many might just view such antics as obliviously poor musicianship, after spending a month with this record on repeat, it becomes obvious that these are choices, not accidents. Quite frankly, this band knows what it is doing to you; every note has been sculpted to illicit not only emotions, but impressions of the primal urges of fear and confusion.

            Although some would argue otherwise, one listen makes it apparent that some heavy responsibility falls on Jeremy Ward’s contributions. Omar’s compositions are blatantly technical and emotive, but it is through Ward’s soundscaping that the tunes reach their full height, connecting with the vast continent of images into which Cedric’s short story unfolds. With a tumbling drum sample and buzzing guitar bends, Ward creates an audio photo of the main character’s tumble off of an overpass in “Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt,” while his mixing of dub beats and guitar feedback evolve into empty lullabies into which the listener can sink, before being surprised by the riotous beginning of the next tune. His parts may seem superfluous upon first glance, yet without his influence on the space of the tune, I doubt the story of Cerpin Taxt could be so well translated into music as it is on this record.

            As a collection of music, De-Loused in the Comatorium has a pretty sound hull; however, it has been the subject of much critical scrutiny since its release, and not without reason. Many find that the focus on tension and soundscaping leaves the record as an interesting but ultimately flawed endeavor—Brent DiCrescenzo of Pitchfork remarks that “The Mars Volta mistake sonic piling for complex architecture,” and claims the technical approach “just isn’t fun,”[6] while John Hanson of Sputnik Music condemns Cedric’s lyrics as “utter tripe.”[7] Truthfully, while I do enjoy this band’s innovative audacity, it does sometimes get in the way of the music. Many songs feature a lot of repetition and jam without evolution, curbing my appetite for more rather than whetting it. And while I adore the idea of lyrics operating as sounds as well as words, I find the occasional moments when they devolve into incoherent drivel deprives the song of depth, since it is apparent Cedric can create gorgeous phrases when he applies even a hint of effort.

            Despite this, De-Loused is a largely solid and emphatic record, and a damn good listen, because it is complicated and convoluted, and because, as Cedric puts it, “demands your attention. It demands at least an hour out of your life, and with complete silence and with complete devotion.”[8] This record makes it apparent that what is most important to this act is creative freedom, the ability to try new things without fear of rejection or failure. According to the AllMusic biography, TMV exhibits a “willingness to eschew conventional logic and push themselves into new artistic directions instead of opting for the more marketable sounds,”[9] an impressive move for a fledgling act, and one that sets them apart. With De-Loused­, The Mars Volta adventures to unexplored territories of music, and wrong turns ought to be expected along the journey, because they are just as pivotal as the right ones.

            Regardless of the small hiccups almost guaranteed by pioneering music, with De­-Loused, The Mars Volta usurps the artistic throne and proves they have a right to rule. Their musical prowess is ostensibly vast, and when these musicians do click, they create something amazing. One such tune is “Eriatarka,” an excellent example of all elements coming together in a perfect unison of emotion, energy, and importance. Featuring a high energy chorus juxtaposed against gentle verses laden with lilting melodies, this tune encapsulates the entire dark side of the human mind. Omar utilizes time signature changes between sections to create his tension, taking a step back from tritones and musical arrhythmia in favor of a more tender touch of madness. Cedric’s vocal is simultaneously a caress and a stab, and his lyrics wield poetry without becoming reckless, reflecting the energy the bands exudes in each section. “Eriatarka,” though only a sample of the madness this band is capable of, is a tune that rocks to its very core, and is easily my favorite from this record.

            With ­De-Loused in the Comatorium, The Mars Volta found a way to translate into sound the senses of the body and the impulses of the psyche. Though their tunes might not be readily accessible to the average listener, there is no doubt that this band has accomplished an incredible feat, and with their first full-length no less. As Cedric puts it, the goal of The Mars Volta is to “jab the common man’s ears,” because “if we don’t, we’ll never get to a place where future music exists.”[10] Thus, De-Loused pushes the listener to transcend the very thought of how music can and should be done, to explore the vast universe of sound that until now has only been cursorily observed. Consider this record then as a satellite launched into orbit with a purpose of urging us to hammer the boundaries, to find out what humans are truly capable of when they band together in heart and mind.

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Eriatarka
2) Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt
3) Drunkship of Lanterns

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[1] http://www.tinymixtapes.com/music-review/mars-volta-de-loused-comatorium

[2] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/marsvolta/roulettedaresthehauntof.html

[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/De-Loused_in_the_Comatorium

[4] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/marsvolta/roulettedaresthehauntof.html

[5] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/marsvolta/inertiaticesp.html

[6] http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/5117-de-loused-in-the-comatorium/

[7] http://www.sputnikmusic.com/review/6839/The-Mars-Volta-De-Loused-in-the-Comatorium/

[8] http://www.theaquarian.com/2008/01/30/the-mars-volta-happy-pastors/

[9] http://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-mars-volta-mn0000045560/biography

[10] http://www.theaquarian.com/2008/01/30/the-mars-volta-happy-pastors/

At the Drive-In - El Gran Orgo

            Many bands have been considered influential in the growth of punk music, but few have had as remarkable of an impact as At the Drive-In. Known for their incredible and energetic live shows, At the Drive-In has come to be considered a seminal piece of punk and hardcore history. Generally, their later records, especially their last full-length, have taken the brunt of the attention, leaving their earlier work to dither in obscurity. However, one record by At the Drive-In that not only deserves attention, but indeed demands it, is their 1997 EP, El Gran Orgo.  

            The twenty minutes of music provided on this EP are explosive and exciting, overflowing with thrashing guitars, crunchy drums, and searing vocal melodies. While the band occasionally worried that their live energy was lost on their recordings, El Gran Orgo easily smashes those doubts with every listen. If anything, this EP provides an enticing preview of ATDI’s live show rather than a watery doppelganger. The record is bristling with youthful havoc and vigor, with all cylinders rapidly approaching critical heat levels. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, whose first foray as a guitarist is laminated in El Gran Orgo, absolutely tears it up, while Tony Hajjar and Paul Hinojos, the band’s newest members, prove themselves to be a monster rhythm section.[1] The taut and experienced sound At the Drive-In provides on this EP belies the many lineup changes that the band experienced prior to this recording, including the hiatus of founding member Jim Ward.[2] Indeed, some consider it to be the birth of the sound that At the Drive-In soon became well known for.[3]

            While At the Drive-In puts its musical fervor forefront on El Gran Orgo, the band’s musical abilities are never overshadowed by their energy. Their array of songs offers a mix that is equal parts catchiness and dissonance, a balance that works well for the record. Furthermore, the varied sound provided by ATDI prevents them from being pinned in any one genre. “Give It a Name” and “Speechless” spearhead catchy choruses and pop melodies, while “Fahrenheit” and “Picket Fence Cartel” offer themselves up as post-hardcore pieces. This EP is dynamic in that it consistently offers sing-a-long moments adjacent to brutal riffs, making it a heady and exceptional listen.

            The musical aspect of the record’s writing is one that consistently keeps the listener interested. At the Drive-In’s mastery of the loud/quiet dynamic is apparent in El Gran Orgo, as is their tightness as a group. Both “Picket Fence Cartel” and “Fahrenheit” feature time signature changes that are so fluid they are almost invisible. Musical technicalities aside, even the organization and structure of the songs make for an invigorating listen. Each song is peppered with planned hits and syncopations, as well as moments showcasing each member’s playing abilities. Also, the songs’ arrangements, while often relying on a verse-chorus structure, are also alternated and skewed, keeping the music from falling into a disparaging rhythm.

            Musically, El Gran Orgo is as solid as bedrock. In contrast, its lyrics sway from poetic and powerful to flimsy and frail. Many of the songs feature lyrics built off of clichés: “Winter Month Novelty” relies entirely on the images of “biting the hand that feeds” and “biting off more than you can chew,” while the chorus of “Fahrenheit” is constructed on the phrase “if these walls could speak.” While some of these lyrics are apparently if not painfully unoriginal, in other spots, Cedric Bixler-Zavala offers some very powerful verse. The line “Daddy taught well at the end of his belt” in the song “Picket Fence Cartel” is extremely potent in its understated and dark presentation, while “Speechless” offers a melodious yet intense picture of the effects of an abusive relationship. If nothing else, this record shows a young writer whose style is still developing, and whose choices will further refine the way he wields his pen.[4]

            Surprisingly, one of the best writing efforts (and my favorite tune) on El Gran Orgo was originally provided by the rhythm section. “Honest to a Fault,” the shortest song on the record (excluding the amusing “Intermission”) began as a song from Tony and Paul’s pre-ADTI musical efforts.[5] Fast and straightforward, all instruments come together in a punk whirlwind as Cedric screams and shouts from his core. The pop-punk melody of the song demands a driving delivery, and At the Drive-In does not fail to deliver—at times it seems the whole band is singing. The tempo alone immediately suggests a circle pit, seeming so harried and reckless as the band tears through the song. From the opening drum hits to the final screaming proclamation, “Honest to a Fault” provides an incredible illustration of At the Drive-In’s essential vitality, keeping the listener moving and singing as so few songs can do.

            With El Gran Orgo, At the Drive-In makes a point in less than twenty minutes that some bands struggle over a lifetime to approach. Their music bleeds honesty and energy, exuding a manic and meaningful vibe that is seriously infectious. With El Gran Orgo, At the Drive-In shows itself as a band with promise, and anyone who is truly listening will not be disappointed.

           

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Honest to a Fault
2) Give It a Name
3) Fahrenheit

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/At_the_Drive-In#Formation_and_Acrobatic_Tenement_.281993.E2.80.9397.29

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Gran_Orgo

[3] http://www.heavemedia.com/2012/04/24/45-rpm-at-the-drive-in/

[4] http://www.plyrics.com/a/atthedrivein.html

[5] http://rolodex.free.fr/atdi-interview-middlesizedmikeus.htm