The Mars Volta - 'De-Loused In The Comatorium' (Universal)
5/5
By: Toby L
So wrongful that a work so paramount has been stricken by tragedy. There are no two ways about it: 'De-loused In The Comatorium' is the album set to break The Mars Volta. Just so unfortunate then, that it also is the album whose release will forever be linked with the death of TMV outside influence, 'sound manipulator', and nurturer, Jeremy Ward, who was found dead in his LA home in May, '03.
Yet, you suspect, Ward would not want for 'De-loused...' to be associated amidst a haze of turmoil. With the band's debut full-length, ex-ATDI's Cedric Bixler and Omar Rodriguez and co. have collated the most daringly original, vivid, forthright and imaginative release of 2003 - hands down, no questions asked.
Magically, as if the first listen wasn't a trip enough, this is one visit into the head-spaces of some strikingly visceral talent that only betters on return-journeys. Whilst the worries may be that of introverted, faux pretension, this is one surefire challenge that's manically accessible via the get-go - merely 'challenging' over 'gratuitous'.
And did we tell you that it's f**king loud, too? True to form, Bixler and Rodriguez have notched up an arsenal-racket that's both blazingly eruptive and substantially beautiful in the same parameters, full-throttle drums, head-splitting vocals - yelping and bellowing to high hell, more often than not - and Aphex Twin-esque electronica-kafuffles misplaced and allotted in any free space between every surging chunk of eradicative experi-rock.
As such, you could deem it a 'concept album', but not in the conventional yawn-inducer way - more a cohesive whole, one which moulds so seamlessly and eloquently that to dissect any part of it would be but to tear the entire product to shreds. Of specific immediacy, the mellowed, tortured tinges of 'Televators' mark a rare gap in the charged-velocity encapsulated throughout, the likes of a bulky, perfection-basking, out there 'Eriatarka' (a potential hit-single for inhabitants of Mars), or 12-minute 'Cicatriz Esp' far less willing to sit still.
OK, so maybe the titles are insultingly ostentatious, but - whatever the packaging - once again, substance proves key. And, as far as substance goes, it seldom is served as grand nor wondrous as this palpably perfect first release.
Rock has just reached new heights - and, now, there's no way down.
Artists in this article: The Mars Volta
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