Showing posts with label Flea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flea. Show all posts

Saturday, January 24, 2015

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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Saturday, December 14, 2013

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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