Forging a sound somewhere between Radiohead and Our Lady Peace, the European rock trio Muse has garnered a surprising abundance of critical acclaim for their latest release, Absolution. In the past, I’ve had no qualms shredding insanely popular albums by equally beloved rock groups, so I certainly won’t cut Muse any slack for slapping together a bland, derivative mess of an album and unleashing it upon the unsuspecting public. Take away the singles and Apocalypse Please, and the remaining material is what a washed-up Our Lady Peace would sound like if they continued to record music until they were graybeards. I’ll keep it simple: there is nothing of interest following the fifth track, and those who claim to have good taste in rock music should back up, very slowly, at the mere sight of this CD.
Capitulating to a bizarre trend of late, the band opens the album with the pointless Intro, occupying all of twenty-two seconds, and filled with hollow-sounding tribal beats. Hope your skip button is ready for a grueling workout today, folks. The tribal thumping leads straight into the real opener, Apocalypse Please. With a frenetic and crashing piano performance leading the way, Muse keeps the pace lightning quick and Matt Bellamy’s airy vocals drip over the hard-driving guitar riffs. The spectacular second single, Time Is Running Out showcases Muse at their very best. Chris Wolstenholme is dynamic with a blurry, electric bass line. The smashing chorus is immensely catchy, but doesn’t wear down with repeated listens. A highly recommended track that would make any veteran rock fan excited of the heights Muse can achieve when they’re on their game.
Sing For Absolution rolls in, promptly wasting what was otherwise shaping up to being a terrific start. Even with a barrage of heavy guitars and wailing vocals near the finish, the monotonous buildup just fails to click. Bellamy’s keyboard skills also need work here; he seems to be playing all of three keys the entire time, and his voice is just flat out boring during these slower moments. Stockholm Syndrome, the last really great track, ramps up the energy and more importantly, maintains the pulverizing heaviness with nary a tepid bridge or clumsy verse to slow things down. A cascade of slamming riffs penetrates the speakers as Bellamy croons, “This is the last time I’ll abandon you/ And this is/ The last time I’ll forget you”. I’m sure ladies everywhere have heard those lines a thousand times over.
Now, if only the CD was released as an EP and ended after track five, I’d be thrilled. Unfortunately, there are no less than eight woeful piles of waste to slog through before the end arrives. Falling Away With You tries to be an up beat rock ballad, but the ballad elements are recycled from countless other love story gimmicks and the rock segments are dry and uninspired. Hysteria is a repetitive, jumbled contraption of fuzzy bass lines and distorted vocals. The crafty guitar solo notwithstanding, another empty, weathered song has come and gone. Butterflies and Hurricanes is a faceless mid-tempo song that fumbles with too many different elements. Trying to mix a jumpy techno beat with symphonic touches will ultimately leave you shaking your head in frustration. The potential is there; the execution is in dire straights.
The corrosive, volatile The Small Print is a heavy dose of mindless rage, devoid of any catchy hooks or otherwise noteworthy aspects. At this point, the CD is flailing around, desperately stabbing in the dark for the refreshing, focused originality that was so readily apparent in the beginning. Thoughts of a Dying Atheist lacks any real punch, and the closer, Ruled by Secrecy is a plodding number that never builds to a rousing conclusion, once more leaving you longing for the wondrous material at the album’s onset. Even Bellamy seems lost as the album flounders hopelessly through a catastrophic second half; his voice just doesn’t mesmerize and entrance you like it once did, which could be said for everything from track six onward.
The thought of picking up this album would seem to be very tempting if someone had only heard the excellent radio singles. However, like so many albums these days, the remaining songs can’t come close to matching their creativity and energy. The guitars on a whole are markedly dull, serving primarily as a background noise with little to no drive whatsoever. Bellamy’s vocals are generally agreeable, although he clearly loses interest in the project, much like I did. Why the critics were so eager to jump on the bandwagon in support of Muse is a tad bit puzzling, as most of them should have seen through the hit singles and realized there is nothing of value beyond the radio releases.
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