It’s calling me…

One repeating line, buried deep within the bowels of Tool’s much talked-about epic Lateralus, perfectly describes the quandary this music reviewer found himself in a few months ago. When the infamous prog-metal band put out their first new album in five years, giving desperate fans their fix after a five-year hiatus, it seemed like everyone had something to say about it. Having never heard Tool before, but knowing a little bit about their tendency to create frighteningly heavy songs about rather disturbing subjects, I figured I was best leaving well enough alone with this band. Keep in mind that I listen to mostly Christian music, and have only recently expanded my horizons to see what talented bands are out there in the wide world of mainstream rock music. As a reviewer, I’ve developed a natural curiosity to at least hear a lot of the music that’s generating a lot of buzz. And obviously, I can’t listen to it all. So you can see why I would write Tool off without a second thought. Sure, they have hordes of rabid fans and are widely recognized as skilled craftsmen who consistently put out complex and intelligent hard rock albums. As I read other members’ reviews of Lateralus, I became quite surprised as they noted that it was more of a transcendent experience than a frightening one, and each new description of the complex musical structures found within the album’s 13 tracks intrigued me. The album was calling me, drawing me in, before I had even heard a note of it. I felt almost intimately familiar with it each time I read about it, and yet, I had no clue what it really sounded like. To be honest, I was afraid to actually satisfy my curiosity. I tried a couple times - downloaded the tracks and got through one or two of them, but something about Tool was just giving me the creeps. So I deleted everything and tried to ignore my curiosity for a while. (I’m such a wimp sometimes!)

Well, obviously I’ve come around and decided to give Tool a fair shot. Despite reports that a few tracks on this album have scared the “bejesus” out of a few people, I had to look past Tool’s dark image and their reported dabblings in occultism, and simply examine their music in a vacuum. I found what most listeners found - a collection of defiantly non-radio-ready progressive metal tunes that examine the dark layers of the human soul, often managing to be transcendently beautiful in the process. Make no mistake - Tool’s musical motif is a dark one. The band pretty much sticks to a no-nonsense ensemble of vocals (Maynard James Keenan), guitars (Adam Jones), bass (Justin Chancellor), and drums (Danny Carey), with the occasional electronic effect just for emphasis. What they do with each of these instruments is what makes Tool truly incredible. I don’t know how extensive their forays into prog-rock were before, and my only real exposure to prog-rock is Iona, which is an entirely different band altogether. All I know is that Tool handles the complex time signatures, unpredictable shifts in mood and theme, unorthodox song lengths and structures, and all of that stuff like they were doing it as babies. In a lot of instances, Tool just flat out rocks. But it’s clear that they exist for more than that - this album has a purpose (as I assume they all do). From the intricate design of the CD jacket (which I’ve heard about but not actually seen yet), allowing the listener to peel back layer upon layer of the human body with each transparent page, to the complex and intriguing lyrics of many of these songs, it’s clear that the focus of Lateralus is the human mind, soul, and body - and how they interact with each other and other humans. It’s not a perfect work by any means - it veers into self-indulgence at times, and Tool hasn’t shaken off the shock factor entirely, but it’s definitely a fascinating listen.

The Grudge
The quiet, barely audible sound of an elevator (or some sort of mechanical lift) opens the album, leading immediately into a rapid-fire guitar riff that appears to be in 10/8. Here we begin our descent into the inner workings of the human body, and it’s not gonna be an easy trip. The first thing we see is this “grudge”, this refusal to forgive others who have hurt us. As Adam’s dizzying guitar riffs spin and twist around Danny’s insane rhythms (I still haven’t figured out how often, if at all, the time signature changes over the eight and a half minutes of this song), Maynard breaks in with a guttural growl, militantly portraying the cold way in which we “calculate what we will and will not tolerate”. It almost reminds me of The Edge’s monotone in U2’s "Numb", placed in a much fiercer and livelier context. The song has its definite repeating motifs, and a few calm breaks here and there, but each section of the song arrives unexpectedly, often incorporating a new line here and there. One of the main themes in the lyrics is that these grudges seem to be all or nothing - “Lifts you up like a child or drags you down like a stone”. Could these supposed dark masters of metal be affirming a need for forgiveness? Perish the thought! Seriously, having this song first on the album did a great job of shattering my stereotypes, and flat out amazing me at that. Danny pulls off some triple-time, tribal drumming near the end of the song, which I guess is his trademark - it’s certainly a blast to listen to. Maynard lets out a fascinating and terrifying scream near the end, holding the note for longer than you’d think humanly possible, and then he can be heard in the background, his voice echoing louder as he growls, “Let go, let go!” Outstanding.
Wear the grudge like a crown of negativity
Calculate what we will and will not tolerate
Desperate to control all and everything
Unable to forgive your scarlet lettermen

Eon Blue Apocalypse
Many fans have complained about the apparent pointlessness of these transition tracks on a few of Tool’s albums. For track #2, it is a bit quiet, and running at just over a minute, I can’t quite figure out the purpose of the tranquil but quivering guitar solo that makes up this track. Perhaps it’s a buffer between the aggression and calm beauty of the tracks before and after. It certainly fits the mood of the next track. Whatever.

The Patient
This song starts off very quietly - there are a few points on this record where you’ll have to turn it up to catch the gentle nuances of part of a song, only to have your eardrums blasted off when it kicks in full force. A more plodding guitar riff and gentle drum pattern starts off, and Maynard sings in a hushed whisper, conveying the fragile strength of a broken man waiting for his healing. The guitar seems a little tweaked at the beginning, giving off some cool Middle Eastern tones, which conjures up an image of a ragged, thirsty man wandering through the desert. Maynard is quietly wondering why his faith is being tested, why he must go through whatever it is that he has determined to “wait it out”. Soon (and rather reliably) the full band comes slamming in, adding a little more texture to the offbeat rhythm. The song begins to take on a layer of beauty not apparent at first, and the song’s title is used as a verb and not a noun - “be patient”. Nice use of a pun for non-humorous purposes! The most euphoric part of this slow epic is the part where Maynard repeats “Must keep reminding myself of this” and then can be heard singing the chorus, layered above that repetition. Such touches are what makes waiting for a prog-rock anthem like this to build so worthwhile, and the song seems to be a great testament to the innate purpose behind our trials. So, we’re two for two on lyrics that I totally relate to.
If there were no rewards to reap
No loving embrace to see me through
This tedious path I've chosen here
I certainly would've walked away by now

Mantra
Another intro/transition track - in some ways, it’s good that we’re getting them out of the way early in the album, even if it really hurts the flow of the first few songs. I’m not even sure what instrument is creating the bellowing noises in this track - perhaps an extremely warped guitar playing the same note over and over, or perhaps a Radiohead-inspired indulgence in computer generated oddity. The effect is calming, though - almost meditative. It fares a little better than “Apocalypse”. Some listeners have compared it to the mating call of a whale or something like that.

Schism
This was the song that managed to pique my interest in the band. Starting with a soft guitar intro and leading into a tricky, disjointed riff (do I detect alternating 6/8 and 7/8?), this song seems to grasp and crawl, growing uncomfortably like a fungus reaching for whatever it can devour, though remaining a little less aggressive than “The Grudge”. This was the first single from the album (not that it was created to be such, but radio had to play something), and after hearing strains of it here and there on our local KROQ station, I was hooked. Maynard sticks to his softer tones during the verses, putting a little more grit into his voice as the song builds, but never reaching scream-level intensity (apparently he’s proved himself as a vocalist to a lot of the skeptics on this album). The theme here is once again related to healing, as I suspect the entire album is - Maynard uses some outstanding lines to explore all of the barriers that block communication between people who claim to love each other. He acknowledges that there is “No fault, none to blame/It doesn’t mean I don’t desire/To point the finger, blame the other/Watch the temple topple over”. He doesn’t seem too proud of that, but he’s honest about his dark side, which I suppose Tool has always been. This song seems to maintain its complex rhythm all the way through instead of turning a bunch of corners like “The Grudge” did, though there is a lovely, spacey bridge that places a neat electronic effect on the guitars and brings in a few harmonic tones that almost sound like digital church bells. Not sure what that’s all about, but overall, it’s an excellent song and a good choice for a radio single (even though it’s a sin to have to trim this one down to less than its near-seven-minute glory). Once again, Danny delivers an astounding, inhumanly fast drum pattern as the song builds to its sudden end - tasty!
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance

Parabol
Running at about three minutes, this ghostly, quiet track serves as an intro to the powerful song that follows. A gentle, repeating series of guitar chords accompany even harder to hear vocals from Maynard, once again bearing that Eastern twinge - I appreciate the attempt to make him sound like a disembodied spirit, but I kind of wish I could hear him a little better, because once again, the lyrics are outstanding. Not to worry - things will get loud soon enough.
So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now

Parabola
WHAM! The track switches, and a solid guitar lead comes swooping in to save the day. For at least the first half, this is one of the most satisfying rock tracks on the album, refreshingly easy to follow at a powerful but simple 4/4. It almost seems to be more traditional metal in its nature (and I’m not talking the nu-metal/rap-metal stuff dominating the airwaves these days) - lots of soaring guitars and memorable, melodic vocals, as Maynard sings about the body that he is blessed to be trapped in. The lyrics here are inescapably spiritual, likely offering one of the most clear glimpses into the band’s personal beliefs, and yet managing to earnestly communicate much of it in a way that is astonishingly universal. Tool gets bonus points for the mathematical terminology used to title the song (though this may bring groans from those who didn’t have a whole lot of fun learning algebra), and for recognizing its root in the word “parable”. The song falters slightly when its rhythm shifts to something a little slower in the middle, and ultimately falls out into a slow, dense pattern of guitar fuzz at the end, but this is progressive rock we’re talking about, so we can’t usually expect a straightforward, rocking rhythm to continue uninterrupted for an entire song, now can we? Ultimately, it stands out as an excellent, metallic blending of the sensual and the supernatural - something I always appreciate.
This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality
Embrace this moment
Remember, we are eternal
All this pain is an illusion

Ticks & Leeches
Here we have song number one that I was afraid to listen to. I knew that this was a pretty angry song and that Maynard pulled off some blood-curdling screams in this one. I wasn’t sure if I could handle 8 minutes of that. What I didn’t know is that there’s so much more to this song than just Maynard being ticked off (heh heh… ticked). Danny leads off with another furious drum pattern, which is joined by a pulsating bass line, and another heroic metal guitar solo flies above it all, operating in what seems to be rhythm of 7 (?). When Maynard joins in, it is a series of alternating quick growls and inhuman screeches. “SSSSUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKK MEEEEEEE DRYYYYYYY!!!!!“ It’s definitely a little unsettling if Tool’s style isn’t something you’re used to. (Oddly, when his rapid “Suck it up” verse first breaks in, I get flashbacks to the bridge from Blues Traveler’s “Hook” - you know, “Suck it in, suck it in…”) Honestly, the pure hatred driving this track didn’t make much sense to me in the context of the forgiveness, patience, and communication described in the earlier tracks. But we are examining a deeper layer of the human body now, and these wounds apparently run pretty deep. Maynard is upset with people who have used him, and this track reads like a catharsis, a therapy session in which he gets to cuss them out and break things and just get it out of his system. (For the record, this track contains the only word on the album that could be construed as a swear word, "bastards", which leaves me a bit confused as to why some online databases have slapped a "Parental Advisory" on the album.) Oddly, the fury falls away into a long, slow, and monotonous bridge, creeping along for a few minutes before jolting the listener out of their daze and building into more screams and a stellar climax. Listening closer during the “interlude”, it appears that Maynard is whispering something in the background, but it would take a lot of effort to make it out, and perhaps I don’t want to try, but there I go being a wuss again. The bottom line seems to be that Maynard wants the betrayer to hurt like he hurts: “I hope this is what you had in mind/’Cause this is what you’re getting/I hope you choke!” Um, yeah. I think we can move on to some other emotions now…
You have turned my blood cold and bitter
Beat my compassion black and blue
Hope this is what you wanted
Hope this is what you had in mind
‘Cause this is what you’re getting

Lateralus
The album’s title track is one of the more obvious points where the CD seems a little weighed down by the lengths of the songs. This one brings together a host of different patterns, both musical and lyrical, and it’s not apparent at first how they unify into a whole. It really took me a while before I found the beauty in this track – I didn’t find as many of the vocal or musical passages to be as compelling at first as I did on all of the previous tracks. That may have to do with the meaning of the song, because here Maynard seems to be addressing a need to move on, to try new things, to not be mired in a world of complacency. The subject matter gets pretty heady here: ”Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind/Withering my intuition, leaving all my opportunities behind”. I’ve heard it said that Tool believes in a philosophy of no beliefs or something like that, and this song might address it, but it all seems a little nebulous, though fascinating to deconstruct. (I’ll leave that subject to more capable hands, because I’m getting lost at this point.) Despite the fact that I sometimes get tired of this track, it’s still a vital piece of the whole, yet another curious layer - but I guess I can’t analyze it too much, or I’m going against the meaning of the song. Sigh. I like the ending, where Maynard sounds determined, bearing an almost Star Trek-like mentality: “We’ll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one’s been. Spiral out, keep going.”
Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line
Reaching out to embrace the random
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come

Disposition
After the heavy guitar tracks that dominated most of the album, this track bears a lighter touch, reintroducing the spacier guitar sounds from the middle of “Schism” and setting them against what sounds like hand percussion, beating out a gentle, meditative, almost tropical aura. Though the song only has three lines or so, that get softly sung over and over, it’s really a beautiful work, and at less than five minutes, it doesn’t overstay its welcome. You have to hear it to understand what I’m talking about. Its gentle groove is really quite relaxing amidst the metallic maze surrounding it. The rubber ball bouncing as the song ends is a nice touch, leading into a percussive loop that starts the next track.
Mention this to me
Mention something, mention anything
And watch the weather change

Reflection
This 11-minute whopper maintains a tribal feel, layering in more guitars and electronic effects and creating a steady jam session, taking a good 4 minutes before bringing in Maynard’s vocals, which are drenched in a haunting reverb. Listen carefully, because this will be the last you hear from him for the rest of the album. The song seems to be a beacon of hope against a frighteningly dark and nihilistic world. Maynard realizes here, in one of the album’s most profound moments of clarity, that he has become too comfortable in the emptiness, that the light of the full moon is calling him out… well, I don’t want to spend too much space on interpretation, because I could have it all wrong. But that’s what it means to me, and it’s a nice thought as this steady (albeit exceedingly long) groove winds its way into the last “official” song on the album.
Don't wanna be down here feeding my narcissism.
I must crucify the ego before it's far too late
I pray the light lifts me out before I pine away

Triad
This one picks up immediately as “Reflection” fades out, taking on a faster tempo and putting various forms of drum and guitar trickery on display, with an appropriately triplet-based rhythm to accompany it. It seems like a strange indulgence to end the album on a long instrumental, but perhaps after the peace and hope unearthed in “Reflection”, there is nothing left to say other than this triumphant musical celebration. I will admit, the second half of the album hasn’t been as instantly accessible and enjoyable as the first half (and even that was a challenge). But Tool has still defied the traditional format of a rock album, and they’ve held my interest through most of the hour-plus taken up so far. But hang on - after this track ends suddenly (admittedly, I‘m not quite satisfied with that as an ending), there are two minutes of silence, and then we descend to the deepest layer.

Faaip De Oiad
Though it’s listed on the album, its positioning after a period of silence makes this track (its title meaning “Voice of God” in some strange language) feel like a “hidden track”. It’s not really a song - it’s actually kind of a dirty trick for Tool to play. A messy bed of static and disorganized drumming fills the background as a distorted recording of a paranoid man plays for a few minutes. The recording was taken from Art Bell, a radio talk show host who basically lets any old nut call in and ramble about government conspiracies and whatever else they want to ramble about - makes for even more irritating late night listening than Love Line, in my opinion. Anyway, this particular freak is a former employee of Area 51 who is calling in to say that the aliens are already infiltrating the Earth and the government knows about it, and all that. The static and creepy sounds, of course, grow more and more unsettled, until they finally explode and everything falls silent, ending the CD. Well, that was uplifting. I think I might understand why this is here - either this is the deepest, darkest layer of the human heart, or this “Voice of God” is set apart from all of these human layers as something entirely foreign invading from deep within. That would certainly fall in line with the paranoid man’s conspiracy theory. Again, my interpretations could be all wrong, but I certainly have enjoyed taking a stab at dissecting this complex anatomy.

I’ll probably get hate mail from some Tool fans - either for “not getting it” with a few key songs on this album, or for judging the album solely on the merits of downloaded mp3’s, without taking in the album art for myself, or any of the band’s past work. But I think it’s important to state that this album is fascinating to a Tool newcomer, and it will likely win over new fans who are looking for something different and transcendent with a surprisingly and refreshingly intellectual theme. If hard rock just ain’t your style, this will likely not be the album to convert you, but if you like modern rock that thinks outside of the box, and you can forgive a few shock tactics, then Tool’s latest epic might just be for you. One word of advice, though: Listen to it with the lights on.

TRACK REVIEW SUMMARY
Excellent: Parabol/Parabola, The Grudge, Schism
Good: The Patient, Ticks and Leeches, Lateralus, Disposition, Reflection
Decent: Eon Blue Apocalypse, Triad, Mantra
Weak: NONE
Skippable: Faaip De Oiad

Band Members:
Maynard James Keenan: Lead vocals
Adam Jones: Guitars
Danny Carey: Drums
Justin Chancellor: Bass

Website: http://www.toolband.com

Great Music to Play While: Shocking your Christian friends.


Recommended: Yes