It starts off with a bang, then Cedric Bixler-Zavala proclaiming “have you seen the living/tired of their own shells/all the non-believers/torso in the well”. I think that I am officially in love with The Mars Volta’s newest, and fourth album The Bedlam In Goliath.

This album may have a similar feel that their last album, Amputecture, but Bedlam is so much stronger by finding some old tricks from their old At the Drvie-In days. The whole album attacks in a way that I haven’t felt from them since their first full length album, De-Loused in the Comatorium, except with the musical mastery that they’ve developed while creating more recent creative pieces, especially their second album, Francis the Mute.

This is The Mars Volta’s first album without drummer Jon Theodore, whom they replaced with drummer Thomas Pridgen (of Wicked Wisdom… um yeah… Jada Pinkett-Smith’s metal band). I read a review from another blogger who said that you could definitely tell the difference between Jon Theodore and Pridgen and that guy is completely full of shit. Not taking one single cent away from Theodore’s greatness, but Pridgen may be a more technical drummer then Theodore. There’s just so many little things that I don’t think matter that much, but make little differences. Pridgen rolls off his snare so incredibly well, as well as changing tempos, not to mention fitting into “The Mars Volta sound” that has been established so nicely over 4 albums. Also, apparently Theodore sucked to tour with, which is the reason why he was fired, and I can tell you from experience that having someone in your band who is always complaining about touring or having to do live shows, just sucks (oddly enough it usually happens to be drummers, those prissy little prima donnas).

But notably it’s also the second albums for both Paul Hinojos and Juan Alderete. Here’s a little bit of At the Drive-In, The Mars Volta, and Sparta gossip. Hinojos was the original bassist for At the Drive-In. When ATDI had an ugly split because of Omar’s and Cedric’s well known heroin addictions, ATDI bore TMV and what a lot of people consider the “other” ATDI offspring band, Sparta. After the split Hinojos was playing guitar in Sparta, but then in 2004, Hinojos left Sparta and joined TMV to take over sound manipulation duties that were left open due to the death of Jeremy Michael Ward (of a heroin overdose), boy were the Sparta fan boards aflame after that.

Alderete is the bands first real dedicated bassist, since Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers had handled bass duties on De-Loused and Omar Rodríguez López handled the bass duties on Francis the Mute (** Note: I have to do some more research on this, because looking on Wikipedia it says that Alderete actually played bass on Francis the Mute, but I know that’s not true. I’ll have to research this).

The lineup has been fairly stable for a good time, which explains the similarity between this album and the last one, but this album just has something… more. While touring in Jerusalem with RHCP Omar and Cedric bought a ouija board that apparently has plagued them since. Requiring tribute, favors, and oddities, that the band is claiming has caused them a great deal of strife.

Ok, seriously, has anyone ever heard of marketing? Mainly employing the skills of horror writer Jeremy Robert Johnson to write the piece, but not to mention TMV are huge fans of smoking weed. I know this for a fact. “Dude, dude… I totally got it… let’s release an album… but we’ll make it all crazy… like a ouija board was haunted and we had to write an album about it… dude… that’s so… awesome.” I’ve seen this happen among friends all too often.

What the album does have though is rapture and faith. There are several religious references through the album art, finding a ouija board in Jerusalem, and even the word “bedlam” which is derived from St. Mary of Bethlehem insane asylum. This whole album feels like a sermon from a Pentecostal church; a frantic cry out to God through music. I can even see people falling on the floor yelling, screaming, and convulsing crying out the lyrics of Metatron (for any Dogma fans, yes, that is the angel played by Alan Rickman), or holding their hands to the sky and swaying to Agadez (by the way the Cross of Agadez is a piece of jewelry made by the Tuareg people. During Christian times the Cross was passed from Father to Son with the phrase, “My son, I give you the four corners of the world, because one cannot know where one will die”).

This album is more mystical and moving then their previous records. The Mars Volta is truly moving into their own, but I sincerely hope that they develop a different feel once more, like the transition made from Francis to Amputecture, otherwise I can see them very rapidly turning into a stereotype of themselves.

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