Review Summary: A story of wandering and unfortunate discovery.
Simultaneously tranquil and furious, Muse’s “Origin Of Symmetry” begs the question of whether or not the art of composing melody can be perfected. This record stands quite close to the musical barrier separating mortals and the celestial, assuming they can write and perform music, and that if they could it would be absolutely gorgeous. Boasting both affection and mystery in his lyricism, Matt Bellamy leads his band to a graceful, meditative place; it will absorb you like a black hole, an unbreakable gravitational pull towards audio paradise. This is the modern rock origin of epic surrealism and a timeless record to boot. I say timeless because it’s such a great adjective to use, what with “Origin Of Symmetry’s” tendency to sound like it came from another planet in this infinite space. This would be the elevator music playing as one waits to be delivered from one dimension to another…so soothingly chaotic, and radiant like the sweltering sun. This record peaks multiple times and when it does the climax rivals that of a sexual nature. Suffering mildly and only momentarily in a slightly generic realm, “Symmetry” is leaps and bounds better than your favorite generic rock album. Would you like to know why?
Muse performed “Symmetry” with an energetic elegance, and in doing so gave Alternative rock a brand new flavor to chew on. This record is not hard to figure out and not hard to listen to, but the purest of emotion never is. True love and true hate are engrossing; Muse write about the ideas that have been clawing relentlessly against their minds for years, see if you can relate. Whether they’re saying what you’ve always wanted to say which hits you the hardest, what you’re finally understanding for once which wears off after a while like the excitement of sex or drugs, or what you hate people for saying which never catches on. After hearing “Symmetry” I think Muse should have just named it that and left out the first two words. It’s everything I’ve always wanted to say perfectly parallel to everything I’ve always wanted to hear.
“Symmetry” can be catastrophic, serene, or silent in anticipation of noise…dreadfully accusing or plainly conversational. Music so good I would have thought Nina Simone’s 1965 cover of
Feeling Good was a Muse rip-off had I heard it after this. “Symmetry’s” first half is an intrepid roller coaster ride over clouds of piano notes in the sky lit by scorching electric guitar. The album becomes calmer but it would be wrong to call that the only progression – since their inception Muse have been progressively inclined, and “Symmetry” is more so than anything else they’ve done (remember I’m writing this as The Resistance is still under lock and key so don’t ask me to bite my tongue). But I will anyway because I’ve called the second act of “Symmetry” “calm” but that word alone couldn’t describe it. No you won’t be hearing the vigorous riffs of
Plug In Baby but intensity comes in all shapes and sizes, and songs.
From the start of
Screenager you’ll be sure the album is about to take a drastic turn. Matt’s guitar undertakes a trippy tone and as a result the songs sound more mysterious but entrancing, like a good film. This part of the record recalls
Space Dementia’s longwinded hypnosis, especially the closer;
Megalomania is interesting in it’s disappointed sound despite being the final track, as if everything the band had been looking for was denied to them and instead they sit on the curb of a lonely, misty street, contemplating the meaning of paradise, what they thought they were looking for but it can’t be, because they didn’t find it – and who would deny a haven to a band that could write it’s soundtrack?
Muse are perfectionists. Every moment of their records whether good or bad was obviously fine-tuned to the last measure, and I think the second song on this album
Bliss is the best example of their method. It’s fluid harmony glues together everything the band is: crescendo, climax, heart-aching vocals, electronic and electrical instruments, and a hook that could catch a whale. As the record progresses their songwriting also does but thematically, “Symmetry” does not digress. In almost every song Bellamy professes love, disgust, longing, and other feelings towards an unnamed figure, whether it be a woman or a whole society, using “you”, “your” and “you’re” very frequently in his lyrics. He sounds desperate for the attention of someone who could be nothing short of a goddess, because this record as aforementioned is quite epic. From the pulsating bass-line on
Hyper Music, the flawless cover of Newley/Bricusse’s
Feeling Good to the lush blend that is the album’s magnum opus,
Citizen Erased, one would be criminal to deny the astronomical sound of “Symmetry”. Matt even used a church organ to put the finishing touches on
Megalomania.
Enforced by this musical colossus is a very interesting romance between the lines of Matt’s words.
Newborn is an anthem for the jaded youth despite what Bellamy claims it’s about; a brief journey ending in the sucker punch of reality much like the final song. All of the lyrics read like an unconventional story about a blooming adolescent given to the harsh world far too soon, like a teenaged prostitute or drug addict. His or her relationships with the people that guide them through this filth are mostly horrible but one love continues to return as a motif, but is unreachable and its clear that Matt speaks of it from the outside looking in, whatever it, or she, or he is. In the end the hope fails but I don’t think this record is a protest against that, just the tale of how exuberant and ecstatic the time spent looking for it really is.
“Origin Of Symmetry” is thus far Muse at their highest potency. You will not find a rawer take on life elsewhere and if you do I’ll buy you a beer. Whether you love it or hate it or are simply okay with it,
it’s influential and monumental presence can’t be denied. I don’t know if any particular storyteller within the band wrote these words with biographical intentions but either way it is a story to be read, not just heard.
Hands are red with your blame, megaphone screaming my name, whimpers someone I should've loved, souls weeping above -Micro Cuts
