I have to admit that when I first heard Tool I thought I was listening to just another angst-ridden, post-Seatle flash-in-the-pan. Even though I thought their videos were extraordinarily creepy and sometimes difficult to watch, like looking at something through lenses that distort all proportion and leave one unable to see clearly, I was still unconvinced.
The summer of 2001 I went on a discovery for new music. I had found, or refound, several bands that I enjoyed, but was still restless. In the fall, Tool released Lateralus, and with more than a bit of trepidation, after talking with several people who knew the band well, I went out and bought it. I had an afternoon alone in the house, so I got my first lesson at high volume. Needless to say, I was hooked. Here was a band that made up for a lack of technical skill - no shredding - with serious song writing ability. What really blew me away was the intelligence of the lyrics. This wasn't the mindless rage of punk, or the shallow nihilism of black metal, but songs that were relentless, forcing a person to think. If you wanted to. The music, without lyrics, stands on its own as some of the most powerful I have ever heard.
In a post on my previous blog here I wrote that I hope some day James Maynard Keenan is made poet laureate of the United States. I was not then and am not now in repeating it being facetious. Just listen to the lyrics of "The Grudge" or "Lateralus", or the song I just can't get out of my head, "Vicarious". Consider this - how many song writers in rock are intelligent enough to know the word exists, and use it as a song title, in a furious cultural commentary? I was discussing the band and its music with some older folks this previous March, and someone asked, in reference to the song "The Grudge", how many sixteen-year old moshers and fist-pumpers at a Tool show would get the reference to Saturn in the song (the Titan, not the planet). My answer was, probably not many. That is hardly the point, to me. The real point is that it is a joy there is music that complex out there that it can operate at so many levels simultaneously. I can sit an think about the words I am listening to; I can go the United Center and scream my head off while my head is blown apart by the sheer sonic power of the band's musical ferocity. There is nothing incogruous to it. It is a real joy.
Even if it is a dark joy.
Again, not for everyone, especially if you don't like songs with "fuck" in them, or songs about fisting, or about transvestites. Or songs that can only be understood completely when listened to at high volume. That is my suggestion. Crank it to twelve.
Virtual Tin Cup
