The Mars Volta – Lucro Sucio; Los Ojos del Vacío │ Album Review

Historically, listening to The Mars Volta's previous discography such as The Bedlam in Goliath, Frances the Mute and De-Loused in Comatarium has always instigated the mental image of the age old question:' What's this cocaine doing in my paella', or maybe even better, 'what's this paella doing in all my cocaine!?'

Well, The Mars Volta are back, but rather than projecting the mental image of vast quantities of unregulated amphetamines and authentic Spanish rice and seafood dishes combined, their music has matured into prescription opioids paired with a dry Sauvignon Blanc and Argentinian grilled sirloin, but is this what The Mars Volta’s listeners really wanted?

The first time anyone heard this album was during their support slot of the latest Deftones tour. This can be considered a dick move. But it was sure ballsy, it has people talking about their set more than Deftones’ on their own tour! However, it’s not without considerable risk.. Imagine going to a Metallica show in 2011 and if all they played was Lulu for the first time. No ‘Master of Puppets’ at all, instead, you get ‘The Table’. This seems like a surefire way to create an arena filled with violent extremists, and justifiably so. But you have to respect The Mars Volta for the play. Unfortunately, with Lucro Sucio; Los Ojos del Vacío, the risk has just left their listeners feeling a little bit confused and melancholic, but this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If the artists have left their listeners feeling anything at all, then their job has been accomplished.

Lucro Sucio begins with less of an acid jazz intensity blended with pulsating energy and a hyper insistence than we are used to from the beginning of a Mars Volta record. Instead, the listener is treated to an almost otherworldly drum circle type meditative crooning that wouldn’t go amiss in the jungle plains of Guyana, before a smooth talking preacher broke out the rusted vat of Cool-Aid and cyanide. Vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala demonstrates an absolute mastery over his encompassing range of singing, bouncing between helium enviable hights and somber wails with poignant lyrics that should resonate with any listener who has ever experienced desperately wanting something, and not getting it.

As the album progresses, the tone is reminiscent of David Bowie’s swan song in Lazarus, before transcending into a Massive Attack style groove with a low maliciousness about it, accompanied by an apathetic timbre, brought into the modern era by 80’s science fiction synth. The Mars Volta are telling their listeners: “We don’t care what you expected from us, we don’t care what you wanted from us; we’re The Mars Volta and we do what we want.’ This is completely on brand for The Mars Volta. For their entire career, they have managed to walk the impossible tight rope of making music unlike anything anyone else is making, without even giving an ounce of the sense that they’re ‘being weird for the sake of weird,’ which so many lesser bands fall into the trap of.

Here in Lucro Sucio, The Mars Volta seem to have traded in their trademark high energy for maturity, and whilst this can be respected, maybe even expected, it comes across as just a little bit sad as they’ve lost their spark and become possibly the worst thing the band could ever hope to be: boring. However, it should be considered that if any other band put this record out, it would be considered a very solid entry. But, it’s also possible the Mars Volta have made this move on purpose, as though to hold an introspective mirror up to their listeners, saying: “You’re no longer The Bedlam in Goliath, either. Years have passed, and you’re no longer able to jump out of bed in a sensory overload of impossible to define musical explosiveness to face the day anymore; now you achingly and purposefully creak out of it, just hoping the day doesn’t take too much from you before you’re finally permitted to rest again.’ Only The Mars Volta know.