The Mars Volta: De-Loused in the Comatorium

By RUSSELL BAILLIE

(Herald rating: * * * * *)

It's tempting to laugh this one off. It's got guitar solos that go on until next week. It's got song titles like Take the Veil Cerpin Taxt and lyrics which sound like the bits that David Cronenberg edits out of his scripts.

It's got bits which sound - if we to get the cruel tools of the rock dissection kit out - Bjork-as-a-boy fronting an outfit that veers between Santana at their most psychedelic, the Red Hot Chili Peppers at their most indulgent (both RHCP bassist Flea and guitarist John Frusciante guest) or Tool having finally fought their way out of their dungeon into the sunshine.

The Mars Volta is led by Cedric Bixler and Omar Rodriguez, the Afro-toting frontline from briefly famous Texas art-punk outfit At the Drive-In.

It seems that on their Rick Rubin-produced debut they've thought attempting to marry two supposedly diametrically opposed schools of thought - prog-rock and punk - is how Mars Volta music should sound.

Sometimes, it leaves the impression that this is what Fugazi might become if they had a major label recording budget and all the time in the world, especially on that aforementioned last song of the 10 here.

Yes, only 10 tracks - eight actually if you discount two sub-two minute instrumentals. But the others hover around the six-minute mark while the centre piece Cicatriz Esp is double that, then some.

In that time it shifts from stuttering bass-heavy verse to motorway pile-up choruses into stratospheric guitar freak-outs and something that sounds remarkably - oh no - like jazz-funk into a very long twiddle with the echo boxes then into that Santana bit.

It's brilliant in its own ridiculous way, as is all of this. Prepare to be astounded, highly amused or both.

Label: Universal