The Mars Volta
Scabdates (GSL/Universal)
by Tim Den
Break dancing. Whether or not you’re a fan of the art form, it becomes abundantly clear upon first witnessing that skills are involved in its planning, presentation, and execution. For as much as the dancers play off their joint-displacing, gravity-defying chaos as a succession of spaztic, almost random physical flailings, you understand that you’d not be able to duplicate their moves without training and/or serious injury. It’s called “making the difficult look easy,” something – in the music world – exemplified by the likes of Aloha and Tortoise. With a thorough knowledge of musical vocabulary – everything from technical prowess, feel, to chemistry between the players – these bands are not only able to throw chance to the wind during elongated, risk-laden jam sessions, their proficiency as well as honed creativity allows them to pave and smooth roads before they set foot on ’em, however treacherous the path.
The Mars Volta are not one of these bands. On album propers, they nail (or, as I’m beginning to suspect, stumble upon) “careful manipulation and coordination: A balance of planning and free-forming” (as I said in the review for Live). But as they’ve proven time and again, they’re not capable of such a feat in the live setting. As if Live and the fatty portions of Frances the Mute didn’t already embarrass the band enough, Scabdates is here to say last rites for a group that’s as unimaginative in their pursuit of “spontaneity” as its leaders (vocalist Cedric Bixler Zavala and guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez) are ill-prepared for such a journey. Stretching what’s essentially a three-song set into 73 minutes – 73 minutes!!! – Bixler Zavala and Rodriguez-Lopez fill the gaps with literally nothing but elementary doodling passed off as brilliant ideas.
Intermingling field recordings: Gee, what a new concept!
Droning feedback drenched in effects with as much depth, control, and meaning as a kindergartner’s fingerpainting: Monumental!
Wanking on one riff for 10 minutes: Creative! Especially when you only play/sing thirds and fifths!
I got news for you, mighty band leaders: You’re wasting the talents of your cataclysmic backing band. To listen to drummer Jon Theodore, keyboardist Isaiah Ikey Owens, and bassist Juan Alderte de la Peña play second fiddle to your childish attempts at “improvising” is like watching Fred Astaire accompany a Turrets kid. The shit you’re doing is useless. You never branch out from your comfort zone (minor chord progressions and the aforementioned thirds/fifths), Bixler Zavala barely does anything other than holler (in thirds and fifths, naturally) and/or sing snippets of lyrics from other songs (hey, if this is really improvising, why aren’t you making up new words on the spot?), and almost every move/dynamic is based on the easiest instinctual reaction to “jamming.”
In other words, it’s the kind of stuff you’d expect a band to play when they first arrive at the practice space, pick up their instruments, and start to fuck around before commencing on a song. It’s brainless, it’s effortless, and most of all it’s meaningless. It’s the sound of every fucking band ever bullshitting around, except not for 73 minutes. You want to exist on such a shallow principle? Fine, be my guest. But don’t subject your audience and the record-buying public to such drivel. They paid money to see and hear you DO something. Have you seen Mike Patton’s improv shows with Rahzel, X-ecutioners, and John Zorn? Have you seen Living Colour twist songs into fantastical new creations on the spot? Shit, even the immaculately sterile Dream Theater can turn a free-for-all into something worthwhile – interesting key changes, unpredictable dynamic outbursts, unexpected left-of-center melodies. If you want to reach for such lofty musical heights, first make sure you’re not a midget.
Scabdates lacks any redeeming quality whatsoever. The only purpose it serves is to warn people of two things: 1) Don’t EVER see The Mars Volta live, unless you want to hear five songs lobotomized over the course of two and-a-half hours, and 2) hardcore musicians, even if they surround themselves with top-notch players, will never be able to fool anyone (except maybe themselves) that they have the ability and mindset to be anything but.
(www.themarsvolta.com)
