The TOOL Story Marches On

From Andy King, TotalRock… New Album playback at 10, Golborne Road, London W10 -
February 20th 2006... 4pm and 7.30pm

There is something delightfully Toolian about staging a series of European album
press/radio playback and ‘meet-the-new-Record-Company’ dates whilst not only not
revealing the name of said new album but also keeping all the track titles
themselves firmly under wraps.

For your roving Tool reporter, this presents two particular difficulties –
firstly it makes accurate reviewing a task almost as hazardous as Quail shooting
whilst under the influence (perish the thought that anyone could even
contemplate such foolishness) and secondly it prompts momentary, and forgivable,
cynicism along the lines of ‘They’re ‘avin’ a larff! This is just an elaborate,
fake decoy album!’. Oh shit, there I go with those hunting expressions again.

Today (and I use the word entirely accurately - as my Tool obsession squirts
into me such blind courage as to prompt me to lurk, contrary to Record Company
wishes, in the shadows for 90 minutes - so as to catch both the 4pm and 7.30pm
playbacks) - today, the Record Company has displayed a remarkable degree of
Tool-savvy by booking an unheard of pub-for-bohemians in West London’s debatably
fashionable and trendy (or downright dangerous – unless, like me, you have at
least two layers of hoodies on top of your baseball hat) W10 area. 10, Golbourne
Road is at the foot of one of London’s once most notorious and scary tower
blocks – Erno Goldfinger’s (not to mention The Clash’s) Trellick Tower – now
perversely, and miraculously, transmogrified into one of the City’s most
desirable residences. It sez ‘ere.

It’s a joy – in this day and age and with such a multi-million selling global
mega-band (yes, it really is true, fans!) – to immediately bump into ¾ of the
band casually swigging beer from bottles (or, somewhat surprisingly, Starbucks
from a paper cup in Maynard’s case) and chatting amiably with the assembled
mid-afternoon gathering of hacks. It’s always a joy to meet a man so much ‘his
own man’ and Maynard, as usual, manages to take such an expression to dizzy new
heights. As inscrutable as the bastard offspring of Chairman Mao and Wallace &
Gromit’s Were Rabbit (slightly caught in the headlights of my immediate and
presumptuous ‘hail fellow well met’ self-introduction) Maynard professes to
‘feeling a little jet-lagged’ and at once hops off to safer environs. Meanwhile
big haired Danny and Justin look, for all the world, like a brace of goddamn
hippies from the Bong Shop down the road. As has been revealed – Adam has
remained in LA ‘directing the video’.

After a 30 minute delay in proceedings – caused by a tardy and self-important
bunch of hacks creeping out of some rank corner of the evil EMAP Empire (they’re
all Borgs, we suspect) the Anonymous Playback of The Nameless Songs commences…
‘probably nearly in their Final Running Order’, we are told. Readers will,
hopefully, forgive any inaccuracies in reportage. On first listen I surmised
this was an 9 track album, managing to squeeze this figure up to 10 on second
hearing, whilst having confirmation from the band that it was, in fact an 11
track album. (They thought).

Queens Of The Stone Age, The Melvins, Turbonegro, Satyricon, Weezer and Hole.
Hmmm... Joe Baresi’s CV might not be an immediate one to catch the attention
whilst puzzling over a new Producer for a band such as our heroes. But then,
Tool never have been noted for the obvious, the easier, softer way. The band
dynamic IS different on this work. But it’s a challenging difference – perhaps
no great surprise for a band which often borders on the recalcitrant. As might
have been expected from a ‘guitar-oriented’ knob twiddler– the guitars are very
much to the fore. Perhaps more so than on any work since Opiate. And there are
other notables – but more of those later. What we have here with The Album With
No Name (rather a good title, boys… why not go for it? Surely it’s not too
late?) is yet another milestone in the journey of one of the most innovative of
rock bands of the last 30 years. It’s a Rollercoaster. It’s difficult (‘Hurrah!’
I hear you yell!). It’s at points dense, frustrating and impenetrable
(‘Wahaay!’). On occasion it provides the band’s most commercial work to date. At
worst, it heavily borrows hooks and snippets from, mainly, the Lateralus album.
At best, it’s soaring and stunning and staggering – an exercise in aural, no
sensory, exploration. In short, it’s the new Tool album and it’s f@!# great…

Track 1 (7min 3sec). Mesmeric start. Hypnotic beat. Jagged, angular off beats.
Familiar trancey passages punctuated by a guitar part reminiscent of an older
Tool track. Tribal drum beats f@!# with a lovely melody and climax with
Maynard’s vocals. I am going to cry.

Track 2 (7min 12sec) Melodic intro with almost balladic vocals from Maynard.
Lighter feel (almost, dare I say it, APC-tinged) but not for long. Danny gets
stronger – Baresi releases our tubthumper and the feel gets much heavier into
‘chugga chugga’ off beats. Then – here’s some unusual guitar work. Man, it’s
almost Hendix-like! Then back into a heavy tribal groove. I fight off the urge
to masturbate furiously.

Track 3/4 (This is either one 17 minute monster or two tracks – of 6min 20sec
and 10min 26sec – only the Gods Of The Stinfist know the answer). Whichever it
is – DO NOT SMOKE THE WEED WHILST LISTENING TO IT! Starting with Buddhist
temple-flavoured gong tweaking the collective nipples of Kraftwerk, a deep
sphincter-rumbling bass and om chanting might recall ‘Parabol’. After 3 minutes
of this nerve-wracking niceness, all Hell breaks loose with mega-heavy riffdom
before slipping back into spaciness after 30 seconds. Like an epileptic
convulsion in a night of deep sleep. Hawkwind does Greensleeves whilst Pink
Floys look on. The Record Company people are starting to look nervous and
uncomfortable as if they have seldom HEARD anything so strange and worrying.
What the f@!# is this? Let me outta here! I need to go snuggle the Radio One
Playlist! Suddenly it’s a crazed sea shanty for whacked-out space travelers.
‘You’re the only one who can hold your head up high. It’s my time now… my time
now… give me my… give me my…’ duets Maynard with himself. Danny fights free of
the evil clutches of Dr Baresi and goes off on one. Adam’s guitar recalls
something off Lateralus again. It’s Triad, I think, but it’s almost impossible
to identify one riff whilst another song goes on. The musical equivalent of
rubbing one’s head and tummy simultaneously in different directions. They’re
doing this on purpose to f@!# with our heads. Bastards! Returns to full-on
rhythmic Toolishness to end. No it isn’t the end. It doesn’t end like any other
song ends. Tool never ends. I’m losing it. Therap me now, please.

Track 5 (Probably. 6min 11 sec definitely). Oooooooh. This is THE one. Ya know
what, pluggers? Radio might even go for this! Maynard’s vocals at the start are
quite extraordinary. Place equal parts of Chris De Burgh, Tiny Tim and Bilal The
Muezzin in a blender and run for your life. Easily the most commercial track to
date. In fact, easily the most commercial track Tool have EVER done. That guitar
is waaay strong again. Did Adam bribe Baresi? This is still twisted. It’s hard
but commercial. The end spells a relief as climactic as a boil bursting. I go
‘Yessssss’ and the whole room of cool jouros looks round at me as if I’m a
Bateman cartoon ‘The Man Who Ordered A Pork Sandwich In Blooms’. This is a
SERIOUSLY awesome track. Just you mark my words.

Track 6 (1min). In which Maynard becomes a Native American for no good reason.
Strange, but we like a bit of strangeness.