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.
Track 7 (Maybe. Could be two medium length tracks and a terribly short one, too. I’m now losing the will to
live with the stopwatch. It’s 14min 45sec of music, whatever). Guitars to the fore again. One long note with
almost blues-like, overlaid note progressions. f@!# me, it’s House Of The Rising Sun cut with Ketamine. There
are unsettling whispers and talking. Is this a bad trip or a psychiatry session? Come to think of it, is there
a difference? ‘How Are You Today?’… ‘Tell Me Everything’ then THWACK! Into such a breathtakingly slappy,
powerful riff kick that I’m actually physically winded for a nanosecond. Demonic, growling, rap noise over
rhythmic heavy heavy groove. Forget the Were Rabbit jibe. This is a f@!# full-on, nasty, shaven headed
WEREWOLF. A lightbulb goes mental in the room. The Record Company almost lose all cool and run for it. I damn
nearly join them but now I AM crying. I am gulping back wracking sobs at the sheer Toolishness of this
monstrous, magnificent track. This is the real deal. Again snippets from Lateralus. You ARE playing with us.
You ARE! This is Tool’s equivalent of ‘spot the Hitchcock in the Hitchcock film’! But I don’t care. It’s like
The Best Of Tool in one song. The Bomb. It ends like the violent end of a violent life. And then it ends
again. Unless that’s another track, of course….
Track 8 (6min 44sec). Odd noises. Sea shore meets ironworks. Ever see the cartoon meisterwerk ‘Spirited Away’?
You MUST! In it there is a character called Kamajii The Boiler Keeper who has 6 arms and an army of small
black coals. This sound is similar. Soon joined by elastic bass and drum twangling over multi-layered Maynard
whisperings and chanted vox. Shades of Pink Floyd again. Shades of the more ‘moody’ Lateralus tracks again.
Reflection. Disposition. Tribal and hypnotic.
Track 9 (9min 04sec. I think). Melodic, slow, hypnotic. Almost balladic. Wall of Sound build-up. Danny does
some Bamboo pole-type drumming into big riffage. Big, big sound. Tool at their weightiest. It’s almost Chinese
at the end. I can think of worse things to be like. Perhaps the boys have their eyes on the World’s fastest
developing market?
Track 10 (OK it’s 11 but I’m f@!# if I can work out how we got here). The walk out track (their description
not mine). Oddness. The Noodles of Satan.
And that’s it. First playback and Maynard bids us farewell. ‘Hope you enjoyed it. If you didn’t we could put
on a little Green Day for you?’. Second playback and Justin apologises for not being The Arctic Monkeys. We
smoodge and chatter. We remember that Danny is actually the World’s nicest (and tallest) man. If only I could
feel as comfy in my skin as he does. That’s it – go on, compare my insides with his outsides. We rejoice in
the fact that ¼ of Tool is, in fact, English. We clamber onto our pushbike past legions of hoodies whilst the
Tool Carnival ups and offs to Amsterdam. f@!# knows where THAT playback will take place but I have a shrewd
idea or two…
Andy King -
www.TotalRock.com - 20/2/2006
co nie co o nowej płycie Tool'a ile w tym prawdy jest nie wiem.[/code]