The Mars Volta

Cedric Bixler Zavala’s familiar wail opens this stunningly dull fourth effort by the kings of over-indulgent noodling. In an effort seemingly aimed at luring back At the Drive-In fans, the Volta have made a bunch of noise about the shorter run times on many of Goliath’s tracks. At first, it seems as though maybe the band have gotten tougher and leaner, and there are certainly no multi-movement epics this time out. But comparable brevity doesn’t translate into a raw or powerful experience. Instead of condensing their essence and cutting the fat, the songwriters have gotten lazy, opting to repeat riffs ad-nauseam. In a messy homage to their bloated prog contemporaries, the Volta borrow melodies so directly it borders on plagiarism. At least they added some free-jazz saxophone. It’s definitely the Mars Volta, and if you love their brand of professional wankery, you’ll probably like this, but they should expect more from themselves, and listeners should demand it.