Allegedly the origins of Muse’s latest studio offering came from a spontaneous one off gig at the tail end of their 2nd Law tour cycle in Tokyo, which saw the three piece opt for a more heavier setlist pulling out deeper cuts that would prove more rewarding to their audience that night. This stripped back but ultimately more memorable part of the tour supposedly got front man Matt Bellamy considering the possibility of returning to the band’s heavier roots and trading their arena aesthetic and stadium tailored singles for a more back to basics three piece sound, an idea that any Muse fan from the most devout to the recently dissatisfied would relish. And thus the hype machine for the band’s seventh album Drones fired up.
However within the first few bars of album opener Dead Inside Muse are quick to assure fans that their promise of rawer and more vicious sound is total bullshit. The Depeche Modesque clunker perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the album; its going to be crass, overproduced, ridden with cringe worthy lyrics and absolutely nothing like what you hoped for.
However before focusing too much on the music there’s a more obvious flaw with Drones that’s impossible to ignore and that’s the core concept. A tale of drone pilot’s psychological state might seem like the ideal springboard for asking the big questions regarding modern warfare. Indeed Hollywood has already dramatized it in last year’s Ethan Hawk starring feature film, Good Kill and while the debate over the use of drones is not a novelty it remains ever present. What Muse have brought to the table with this album is precisely fuck all. It is clear that Mr Bellamy and Co have done absolutely no research into the topic nor spoken to anyone with any experience of living in regions of the world where death from above is an weekly occurrence. Instead Bellamy’s personal opinions and theories seem to be the basis for fact on this album and while years ago his conspiracies and general madness would often have its place and charm on this occasion he comes across as embarrassingly childish and stupidly naïve. This may not have been such an issue if the theme wasn’t forced upon the listener at every single moment with no subtly to buffer it. Not to say that musical activism should hold anything back, but where acts like Rage Against The Machine and Public Enemy gave their audience something to shout about, Drones is like watching a 5 year old throwing a tantrum before knocking themselves out on the kitchen table.
Since 2009’s The Resistance Muse have been guilty of parodying other pop genres, with The 2nd Law’s foray into dubstep being a particular low point. On Drones they appear to have turned their guns inwards and caricatured themselves, there are several moments of déjà vu throughout the albums 52 minute runtime, Mercy feels like an even more middle of the road version of Starlight, their recent spat of Queen like vocal arrangements are evident on Defector and Revolt. Whereas The Globalist introduces itself with a Spaghetti western instrumental reminiscent of Knights of Cydonia however call me a wanker for not researching it but I highly doubt the deadly nature of drone warfare was present in Sergio Leone’s West.
Moments of originality are sparse, however the occasional glimpse of something better shines through. The Handler with its token Wolsthenholme bass line provides a little bit of the edginess the most listeners will be craving while The Globalist’s 2nd act riffage echoes the band’s admiration for their original Nirvana/Deftones influences. However for all of these glimmers of hope there’s a clichéd cheesy melody round the corner ready to snuff them out.
No doubt this album will have you rushing to listen to the band’s earlier records not to get a nostalgia rush but just to double check that they are really are as good as you remember them. Matthew Bellamy along time ago said he wanted Muse to be the UK’s answer to RATM, however based on their last three album (nearly half their discography) it seems they’ve ended up being Britain’s very own Nickelback.
3/10
The Sound Locker 