While Mars may be the Roman God of war, the album Frances the Mute has more in common with Icarus. Not unlike our Greek friend, this prog-salsa-rock outfit has taken their magnum opus of Spanlatinglish hyperbole far too close to the sun, causing an epic orgy of fiery destruction. To put it in a way that Mars Volta fans can understand, this album is quite the rara avis.
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Are you confused yet? If not, then you may be able to decipher singer Cedric’s lyrics (which jump from English to Spanish to Latin), such as “my nails peel back/when the taxidermist ruined/goose stepped the freckling impatience.” Now that we’re clear, it’s evident that Omar and Cedric, the Dr. Victor Frankensteins behind this baffling concoction, wanted to disassociate the band Mars Volta from the over-calculated, derivative and impersonal music that breaches the airwaves these days. But their idea of being different involves bearing no similarity to music in general.
To Mars Volta, song structure is pass