With mainstream music in such a sad condition, it takes a lot of guts to be in a band like the Mars Volta. Their self-indulgent psycho-psychedelic-salsa-laced-modern-progressive sound doesn't go over well with your average Fergie fan, but The Mars Volta's founding members—guitar virtuoso Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala—really do not give a damn.
After splitting with emo-punk heroes At The Drive-In in 2001, Rodriguez-Lopez and Bixler-Zavala created a monster, and for the last five years they have created music on terms none other than their own, and have taken everyone else along for the ride. And, oh, what a ride it is. The Mars Volta is famous for putting on marathon shows—stretching six songs over two and a half hours with ease, and recently took that mentality to the studio (2005's Frances the Mute's concluding track ""Cassandra Gemini"" clocks in at over 30 minutes).
As demonstrated on their eight song, 76-minute third studio album Amputechture, The Mars Volta are still keeping up with both the ""we love long songs"" state of mind and the explosive, disturbing force their fans have come to love. But Rodriguez-Lopez's fantastic orchestration on ""Vicarious Atonement,"" ""Asilos Magdalena"" and ""El Ciervo Vulnerado"" has taken the band in a new direction and to a new level of musical appreciation that they have not yet experienced. They have proven to the world they cannot only make songs that suffocate and strike a sense of fear in the hearts of their listeners, but also songs that paint beautiful, swirling landscapes of sonic textures that are the antithesis of the band's familiar, aggressive prog-rock sound.
While all the other Mars Volta studio albums were based around single concepts—both 2003's De-Loused in the Comatorium and 2005's Frances the Mute were based on stories about close friends who had passed away—Bixler-Zavala's haunting falsetto and terrifyingly graphic lyrics on Amputechture tell multiple ""Twin Peaks""-inspired stories of desolation, confusion and angst, while keeping all connected through the protagonists' struggles with their faith.
Amputechture starts off with one of the greatest album openers of all time, ""Vicarious Atonement,"" which is a slow, deliberate guitar and vocal piece that magnificently shows off Bixler-Zavala's impressive vocal skills before saxophonist Adrian Terras Gonzales' chaotic entrance at the end, when he freely blasts notes all over the register—think Pink Floyd's ""Shine on You Crazy Diamond (Parts I-V).""
Another highlight is Amputechture's first single, the nine-and-a-half minutes long ""Viscera Eyes,"" which evokes the same bilingual evil spirit that possessed Frances the Mute's ""L'Via L'Viaquez."" Only this time around the spirit seems more pissed off. The song bends and twists with heavy guitars and synthesizers and is the closest the band has come to a stadium rock anthem.
The album's second to last track, ""Day of the Baphomets,"" is quite possibly the best song the band has ever created. ""Baphomets"" starts off with bassist Juan Alderte De La PeAa performing a speedy solo over poly-rhythmic percussion. Now-defunct drummer Jon Theodore shines brightly on ""Baphomets,"" as he shreds through time signatures like a sharp machete through jungle brush. The song has an extremely powerful melody, and during its last quarter, loud, screeching guitars build tensely to an impressive and dominating worldly percussive climax that would make the Abraxas-era Carlos Santana proud.
The album ends on a haunting note as sitars swirl and drone in the nightmare-inspiring ""El Ciervo Vulnerado."" Here Bixler-Zavala's creeping voice makes every little hair stand up on the back of your neck as he whispers, ""Someone is watching us / Someone has found / Fluorescent ligaments / On a black and white tile."" The song is the perfect ending to a near-perfect album. Buy Amputechture, dim the lights in your room, light a candle and play it at full blast. You won't be sorry.
