New Mars Volta sparks superstition

One Holy Bible: check. One icon of Saint Stephen: check. One Celtic-style crucifix: check.

Usually with a list such as this, one would assume that a spiritual cleansing — maybe even an exorcism — is about to take place. In this case, however, these were the items within reach as I listened to The Mars Volta’s latest effort, “The Bedlam in Goliath,” released yesterday.

To better understand my trepidation and superstition, the origins and inspiration behind “Bedlam” should be known: According to the group’s Web site, themarsvolta.com, the story began in a Jerusalem curio shop with the purchase of an ancient, Ouija-like “talking-board.”

The procurer of the item, The Mars Volta guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, bought it as a gift for friend and band vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala. While on tour with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the members of The Mars Volta began experimenting with the board by asking it questions, and the board responded in kind: giving them nicknames, spouting off meaningless phrases, and even sharing a story about a murderous love-triangle.

The band members nicknamed the board “Soothsayer,” but events quickly spiraled out of control. “Soothsayer” soon began to demand things from each of them and continued to tell the story of the fated lovers, each time more brutal than the last.

In addition to these eerie interactions, the band experienced many ill-fated hardships during this time, such as flooded studios, sudden blackouts (which resulted in the loss of much recorded material), and the nervous breakdown of a sound engineer. The band renamed the board “Goliath” in lieu of the mounting tensions, and the board even threatened them if they didn’t do its bidding. At that point, Rodriguez-Lopez wrapped “Goliath” in a cloth and buried it at an undisclosed location — Bixler-Zavala requested that he not be told where it rests.

The band completed the album in spite of the strife, though some of the musical material was never again found.

The band now hopes that with each listener, the negative stigma placed on them by “Goliath” will be lifted: the more who hear, the less powerful it becomes.

But the album’s pre-release hype didn’t stop there.

In anticipation of its release, The Mars Volta provided fans intrigued and/or frightened by the “Goliath” saga some appetizers along the way, such as several low-budget and black-humor music videos, a digital puzzle on their Web site, and even a computer game inspired by the grisly story told by “Goliath.”

Nearly two and a half months after my initial reading of the album’s origins, I hesitantly slipped on my earphones, despite prior warnings from a relative in the clergy.

The album hits hard from the very first second of the opening track, “Aberinkula,” and doesn’t let up until halfway through the next track, “Metatron.” Even then, the rest is short-lived. In the midst of this musical mayhem of blaring guitars, screeching vocals, thundering drums and wailing saxophones are Bixler-Zavala’s lyrics, telling the tale of “Goliath’s” ever-haunting demands, displayed in songs such as “Cavalettas,” “Askepios,” and “Ouroboros.”

“Wax Simulcra,” the album’s first single, is two minutes and thirty-nine seconds of pure adrenaline, concluded by a frantic drum-and-saxophone duet.

With the nine-member Mars Volta at his disposal, Rodriguez-Lopez, also the band’s producer and composer, makes the most of the talent around him, from the soulful jive of keyboardist Isaiah Ikey Owens to the bombastic drums of newcomer Thomas Pridgen to the uncompromisingly intricate guitar work of John Frusciante. Rodriguez-Lopez’s production touch gives one the image of a mad scientist arbitrarily turning knobs and pushing buttons on the sound board, experimenting with the most outlandish sounds.

Throughout the album, the individual songs shift in and out of several musical movements — the changes being sudden and unexpected, but surprisingly appealing at the same time. Although the shifting song is structured and the aggressiveness of the music may be initially jarring, one begins to detect some sense in chaos — a tapestry strung together by Rodriguez-Lopez’s vision and Bixler-Zavala’s keen sense of finding a catchy melody in even the most atonal of chord progressions.

The two strongest tracks on the album, “Goliath” and “Soothsayer,” display The Mars Volta’s unique approach to the telling of its story. The former, resembles a Led Zeppelin romp, while the latter sounds as if it is played by a traveling rock group in the Sahara Desert.

As the album closes with “Conjugal Burns,” Bixler-Zavala sings the phrase “you’ll wear those healing damns down to the plug.” His daring falsetto climbs to a sudden and haunting silence upon the song’s conclusion.

For an audaciously inventive band such as The Mars Volta, whose previous three albums have pushed the boundary of musical conventions, “The Bedlam in Goliath” is a triumph. Combining the unabashed energy and ferocity of their earlier material with the unpredictably thrilling nature of their more recent work, The Mars Volta present a relentless 75-minute and 14-second musical assault of the highest quality. With every note, the band sounds as if it is trying desperately to exorcise the demon of “Goliath” and lift the proverbial curse from them by the sheer musical force.

One should take all the necessary precautions when undertaking the task of listening to this album: surround yourself with salt, bathe in garlic, and don’t go out on the night of a full moon. Consider this your warning.