|
|

Matthew Bellamy | Chris Wolstenholme
| Dominic Howard
It's tempting to begin to explain Muse's maverick development
as a consequence of growing up in the relative musical backwaters of Teignmouth
in Devon. True, the knock on effects of mid 90s Britpop would be less powerfully
felt in their small coastal hometown. To the schooldays phase of three friends
trying out darkly rocking early versions of the band away from the pressures of
scenes and tactics, you could throw in the now requisite information that
singer-songwriter-guitarist-keyboardist Matt Bellamy's father was in legendary
60s hit group The Tornadoes, and that his mother was a medium with a taste for
the operatic rock of Queen.
That version of Muse's
progress, where they fall in love with 90s alternative rock and cut the
intensity with Matt's love of early 20th century classical music, does little
justice to the vertiginously tiered inner workings of their music. Personal
histories and genre reference points are unreliable signposts to the place that
Muse have come to inhabit.
Shouldn't the children of melancholy seaside resorts turn into sepia loving
poets of yesteryear? Wouldn't it be normal to run in the opposite direction from
parental influences? It would make as much sense for
Muse to have turned into
maudlin retro DJs as the vaulting psychotic metal balladeers that they've
become. If the mechanisms within Muse are to be understood at all, the best we're going to get is glimpses via Matt.
"Irrespective of whether I was doing it for other people, making music is
something I would be doing anyway," he says "Because there's a unique feeling
that I get when I'm playing music. I think it could be one of the most
pleasurable things, in terms of whatever's going on. For me it's something
that's always been good, something that makes everything else seem unimportant.
"It's not just a case of personal pleasure - that makes it seem like it's a
pleasing activity which releases endorphins. It's not like that. Making music
effects the way I perceive everything and it gives me balance in my own reality.
It's something that I can't really explain very well."
While so much allegedly modern rock music has given up the struggle to express
anything new or complex, preferring to stick with preordained codes, Muse persist in attacking the
genre as if it was unbreakable. Happily steered by three musicians with
extraordinary technical skills, Bellamy, bassist Chris Wolstenholme and drummer
Dominic Howard have been able to operate on a larger scale -a rock band with the
cheek and grand foolishness to believe there are no restrictions, and few no go
areas. They are the least mundane band on the planet. To the delight, perplexity
and sometimes annoyance of the listening world, their records have consistently
been extreme and extravagant flights of the imagination. Three albums down the
line they show no sign whatsoever of bowing to the pressure of low expectation.
If 1999's 'Showbiz' was the initial unfiltered statement of intent and 2001's
'Origin Of Symmetry' was Muse finding their feet on a larger musical stage, now comes 'Absolution', the bands
most fully realised work yet. "'Showbiz' was all constructed whilst we were in
Teignmouth together without any schedule or record company, without any of that
vibe, and so we were just making music as we liked making music," reflects Dom.
"So I think the first album you can probably hear that represents us as we were
and who we were. I think the second album was very much that stage of confusion
of getting record deals and travelling everywhere and not really knowing who you
are, I think 'Origin Of Symmetry' represents that kind of feeling of confusion
and not really know what's going on.
"I think we knew that anything we were going to do after the second album we'd
need to really find out who we are now, and to do that we needed to go back to
making music for ourselves in our own space. And when you're making music and
going home afterwards, or spending a few days a week here and then all going
home, the music takes on a more personal feeling and I think you can hear that
on this album." adds Chris.
Muse took a considered
route to album three. After ending 2002's heavy touring at Reading and Leeds
festivals they set up their own studio in Hackney, East London and gradually
began writing songs. The first sessions for 'Absolution' took place at the end
of 2002 in Air studios, working with Paul Reeve, who produced their first EPs.
Here they brought in a full orchestra and after headed down to Sawmills in Devon
for some finishing touches. Having then been contacted by US producer Rich
Costey (Rage Against The Machine, Audioslave, Fiona Apple, Mars Volta, Phillip
Glass) they moved on to Grouse Lodge in Ireland and eventually L.A., with Costey
producing. The orchestras were set aside in favour of a less ornate approach and
concentrating on song arrangements.
Having yet to reach a point of stasis in their own lives and finding that global
events were changing the world around them, the band had no shortage of
songwriting inspiration. Complete sonic re-invention could be thought about
later. For album three there was enough to do, perfecting, enhancing and
extending their body of work. "Everywhere you move you're taking into
consideration loads of previous styles musically have existed, whether it was a
hundred years ago or a few years ago or whatever, " says Matt. "You're
assimilating all of those different paradigms and trying to make some kind of
new paradigm that makes sense of all of them, of course mixed with modern ideas
as well. I think that's what generally creating stuff is about for me.
"And I think we established a certain sound on the last album and I think on
'Absolution' there are some songs that are continuations, but we tried to take
the ideas to a higher level. A song like 'Stockholm Syndrome' could be similar
to stuff on the last album but it's more evolved. But there are also songs on
this album that have completely new ideas. Songs like 'Endlessly', 'Blackout',
'Butterflies And Hurricanes', 'Hysteria' - those kinds of songs are definitely
like nothing we've done before."
'Absolution' is clearly the product of three mid twenties musicians at the
height of their powers, determined to push their aesthetic all the way. It opens
with the Armageddon drums and crazed piano drama of 'Apocalypse Please', with
Matt at full stretch, proclaiming the end of the world. From baroque panoramas
depicting the madness of fanaticism they cut to slinky feline hyper emotional
rock 'Time Is Running Out' and then part the curtains on the dreamy, filmic,
macabre love song 'Sing for Absolution'. With 'Stockholm Syndrome' they lock
into the cyber-punk-fugue mode, Matt hurling grand piano against the wall of
guitars. The softly ticking tenderness of 'Falling Away With You' provides
respite, before 'Hysteria's Bach-bassline'd haute grunge stomp.
With 'Blackout' they slide into an orchestral waltz fit for Covent Garden (in
the year 2030), followed by an opening out into the synth and string driven
optimism of 'Butterflies And Hurricanes' (featuring the world's only Rachmaninov
style rock-house breakdown), and the warm organ groove of 'Endlessly', a song
that you might think to be under the influence of electronic pop, if it wasn't
by the 'doomy cyber rock band' Muse.
From grooves and highly human emotions they take you on a thrilling ride down an
Escher's worth of spiral staircase guitars - 'Thoughts Of A Dying Atheist',
plunge into the dirty riffs and anger of 'TSP' and float to the fade with the
eerie 'Rule By Secrecy', leaving in their wake just a dazed grand piano and
sense of having travelled to the ends and back.
The musical intention for album three was to hone their art as a rock band and
open up the possibilities of grooves and electronics (Matt: "I'm actually
interested in the cheesier side of that area,") whilst also investigating where
they could go with "large ensembles, orchestras, choirs." The thought processes
behind the lyrics were more reactive, possibly more visibly reportage based than
has happened before. If Matt's tendency to follow thought processes to the edge
of reason, and then leap, had previously given the impression that warmth and
humanity were not his style, there is much on 'Absolution' to contradict that
view. Global wars and new emotional territory have their effect.
"I came out of a six year relationship and entered into a new relationship, that
was a pretty major thing for me," he explains. "And world events played a
reasonably large role too. There was a moment of panic and fear, and I think
everyone that lives in London can probably relate to that. I think that was
having an impact on what was happening with the album. We're not an intensely
political band or anything, but when things like that are happening, you can't
ignore it and it influences the way you feel about life and the world.
"It creates feelings of mistrust for the people in power, feelings of extreme
mistrust of what is the media, government, secret government etc - that feeling
of helplessness, that's where the more extreme moments of fear and panic and
apocalyptic feelings are coming from. How that feeds into the other personal
angle is that I suppose in that situation, you look at the things that are
really important to you, friends, family, freedom of thought or whatever, and
maybe you start to realise the importance of those things that maybe you didn't
see before.
"At the same time listening to music by bands like The Flaming Lips and
Romantic/Early modern Classical Music made me realise that it is possible to
make music that goes beyond everyday life and beyond life in general, something
timeless that speaks about existence and can still be related to after the
composers death... I'm not saying that's we are doing, but maybe what we are
trying to do. I think it is possible to find something on a more spiritual
level, which is something I've never really considered before, because I'm not
really a spiritual person, but I have started to consider those things maybe for
the first time whilst making this album."
...And the 'Absolution' that's being sought? Musing on love, loss, finality and
fanaticism may have brought Matt to a less science-fixated, empirical
understanding of the world, but he is hardly ripe for conversion. "I think the
absolution is not necessarily a religious word," says Matt. "It has meanings of
purity, but its not necessarily talking from a Christian or any particular
religious point of view. I think it's just suggesting that the act of making
music is a way of understanding things."
Unwilling to settle for the option of being simply brilliant exponents of a
particular genre, Muse
insist that their music is a personal tool, a prism through which to make sense
of the world. That doesn't mean they're unable to see the moments where
(particularly on stage) the intensity touches on absurdity. They're
intentionally over the top at times. But oddly for a band with serious thought
processes behind what they do, they are low on contrivance.
Muse are not acting rhapsodic
mind-fire rock. They are not 'showbiz'. They were always like this. It's innate.
It's meant. None of the genius in the earlier phases could have manifested
itself without the attitude that pervades everything they do - an attitude of
this could do more, say more, go further, faster, heavier, sweeter.
You can hear the will to push things further in all of 'Origin Of Symmetry'.
It's probably what got that album's big single 'Plug In Baby' drilling into the
album charts in spring 2001 and what lead them to cover the Nina Simone classic
'Feeling Good' reinterpreting the song for a new generation. Its why 'Sunburn'
from the first John Leckie produced album 'Showbiz' grabbed everyone's
attention, and first pushed the band in front of the UK media at the start of
2000.
The need to make something beyond what's expected was why they were plucked from
gigging in bars and small clubs in Devon, given the keys to the best recording
studio in the vicinity, signed a worldwide record deal with Taste Media, were
flown out to America and penned a licensing deal within days. Its how it came
about that Mushroom took them on in the UK, and Japan and Europe fell for them
turning them into one of the biggest festival draws and arena bands. It would be
the driving force behind live shows which make you think you've witnessed the
start of a new era in extreme rock stagecraft, and conclude that anyone who can
play uber-flash guitar as dazzlingly as Bellamy while bouncing off the drum kit
must actually be an alien.
Whether it's ambition, hauteur, super-competitiveness, curiosity or just low
boredom thresholds, Muse
have always had it and for the exact duration of time that it's necessary to buy
their records, they always will. Their heretical momentum is showing no sign of
letting up. There they go, up in the sky, a silver flying v, on a mission to
explode the myth of English meekness and reserve. "I think that the greatest
rock music in the past has been from England, and I think that if I was going to
say something positive or hopeful about Muse
it would be that we want to be that, to do that, to prove that England isn't
just about soft stuff, and that there's more to English life than that.
"I don't really know many English bands that do rock music of a relatively
modern nature, and I think that we're definitely trying to, not necessarily go
against it, but prove that there is a lot more to it. A lot of what has been
rock oriented in the last ten years in England, the extremely original stuff has
been very mellow, the rockier stuff has been old, 'dadrock', retro, and I think
its about time there was an English rock band that was bold enough to actually
be a rock band and not hide behind old established genres or hide behind
self-consciousness."
Look no further. Muse are overhead now.
Next Page >>
Matthew Bellamy | Chris Wolstenholme
| Dominic Howard
|