Frances the Mute

Bearing in mind the unusually high measure of support The Mars Volta have seen thus far from their parent company, Universal Records, you’d think their albums would come juiced with some sort of mass appeal. David Cross would probably try to tell you that the album has a few subliminal “Shop at Urban Outfitters” plugs skewed deep within John Frusciante’s (guest) guitar solos. Or maybe an anti-IPod manifesto somewhere in Flea’s trumpet solos. I mean, why else have Flea do a guest trumpet solo, right? 

Whichever Universal honcho has possessed the faith to quarter Omar A. Rodriquez-Lopez and Cedric Bixler Zavala since their 2003 debut LP, De-Loused in the Comatorium, isn’t finding himself alone these days. With many publications calling Frances the Mute “the year’s most anticipated rock album,” it’s easy to see why Universal would put so much heat behind an album with such an unapproachable format. If Frances does turn out to be the rampant classic it’s presumed to be, then it will soon enough sell at the absurd, dusty-shelf price point of $19.99 for decades to come, thus bringing in those initial lost dollars. I mean, The Wall is selling for $34.99 on average.

Beginning with the 13-minute, multi-movement (though single-piece) “Cygnus ... Vismund Cygnus,” The Mars Volta seem a bit less bashful than on Comatorium, and, in turn, much more indulgent - to the point of sounding even more like a worldly rendering of Rush. “The Widow” is the Mars Volta’s only apparent compromise on Frances, offering up the album’s only radio play-length composition, at the same time providing the listener with their only clear look into the albums topic. Supposedly based on a diary that one of the band members found, Frances is a lyrically difficult, bilingual trip through the life of a very perplexed, morose individual.

While the first two songs on Frances are hardly approachable, the remaining three pieces are even more ambiguous and puzzling. “L’Via L’Viaquez” is a 12-minute, metal-tinged Latin piece featuring what could be a record number of outstanding guitar solos, two of which were contributed by RHCP’s guitarist John Frusciante. “Miranda That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore” contains multiple movements over 26 minutes; thankfully it’s divided up into four tracks. With elements of jazz, rock, metal, punk, funk, latin, soul and prog, “Miranda” is the Mars Volta crowning work to date.

Closing with the four-part, 17-minute “Cassandra Geminni,” Frances begins to feel like a game of “name the influence.” Channeling the work of early Santana, Focus, The Mahavishnu Orchestra, The Flock, Miles Davis and Rush, Frances molds its inspirations into a long-labored blend of styles. Although it might not truthfully be the most anticipated album of the year, Frances will most definitely be at the front of many reviewers minds come November.

Not relying on their modest songwriting abilities as they did in their At the Drive-In days, The Mars Volta have earned their reputation as the hardest working band around for their elaborate musicianship. If they are able to focus their sound and record a comprehensive work, they may just become the best album-making band around. As they continue to expand on their musical proficiency, Frances is a huge step in the right direction for a band bursting with ideas and spirit.

Unfortunately, unless The Mars Volta have been recording for free, Universal must be losing money on their budget-priced, long-form “space punk” band. At a release day price of $5.99, Frances the Mute isn’t making anyone rich. It should, however, do its part to expand the minds of mall punks everywhere, given they have $6.35 left to blow on status expenses after paying for their quarterly bottle of black hair dye.    8/10

Written by G. William Locke