An album for life during interesting times...
It's been nearly a year since the band Tool released their fifth full-length album, but Fear Inoculum remains in regular rotation for me -- sometimes while I'm working, occasionally while I'm driving and I've even found it a great album for yoga. I didn't have a space to really write about the album when it came out, so I figured it was time for a deep dive.
I should preface by saying that the music of Tool has been important to me for much of adolescent and adult life. I was 15 when Undertow came out and the music videos for Sober and Prison Sex instantly connected with me. Fed as I was at the time on a diet of Stephen King novels and late-night horror movies, it was a perfect balance of dark, grimy rock and cryptically, perverse lyrics. When Ænima came out in 96, it matched my interest in blooming interest in weird fiction with an even richer sound that seemed to encompass a broader range of cultural influences and an ineffable weirdness that I would come to identify as psychedelia.
From there, Tool releases became fewer and further apart, but there was always a sense that the band's sound remained refreshingly familiar while also growing with me, emerging out of a nihilistic darkness, ever toward something more reflective and self-aware. That has been, to a certain degree, my trajectory as well. I used to obsess over the darker aspects of the world (and foolishly think that I had a good handle on it all). I thought it the ultimate creative goal to craft something that could hold a mirror up to the world and confront it with its own ugliness. But that sort of thing wears thin over time. I'm reminded of the words from Bernard Malamud's The Fixer: "I act as an optimist because I find I cannot act at all, as a pessimist." Of course, life is nothing if not a roller coaster of confidence and doubt, optimism and pessimism. Just when we feel we have a good handle on ourselves or the world, we're reminded of our own ignorance, our own privilege or some other barrier that reminds us that we were not as awake as we thought we were and that life is, at its very best, a continual state of awakening.
That has been my heart the last couple of years, helping to raise a young son in a time of rightful social upheaval, would-be totalitarian rule, environmental crisis and the erosion of the human soul via social media platforms predicated on the behavior of users modified, and made into an empire for rent. And then, just to top it all off, a global pandemic hit during a U.S. presidential election year. In short, it was the perfect time for Fear Inoculum.
This is the part of the post where I could probably wax philosophic about all the major tracks on the album, but I don't want to take up too much of your time. Likewise, I might normally highlight a couple of standout tracks, but I think they're all superb. So let's run through this as quickly as possibly. I'm going to skip most of the transition tracks.
The title track Fear Inoculum kicks things off with a thrilling litany against fear, injected home with the expected mix of instrumental and vocal excellence -- a track that I've found very personally motivating over the course of the past year. It's a dose of driving optimism that I feel like we all need -- and the same can be said of much of this album.
Pneuma seems to focus on human connection and has some really driving licks that remind me of old Bob Seeger tracks in a weird (and weirdly positive) way. I'm not saying it sounds like a Seeger song or anything, but I can't shake that connection.
Invincible contemplates the aging warrior trope, which certainly resonates with older fans, but is another terrific track that is, IMO, slightly better live. Dig that futuristic patch in it.
Descending might just be the best track on the album, which puts it pretty high in consideration for best Tool song ever. It' s a complex and emotionally stirring track that ruminates on the perilous nature of humanity's survival in the modern age -- something that has become all too obvious as pandemics and tyrants have illuminated our flaws via the pressure of their machinations. But, again, it is hopeful -- though it feels a confrontation of the very fears warded against in the title track.
Culling Voices might be easy to overlook. It's more of a sleeper hit compared to the rest of the album, and the only track that -- as far as I know -- the band has yet to perform live. It starts very chill, very laid back, and might invite a skip from more casual fans, but the action revs up in the second half. Thematically, it concerns unwanted voices in our head, which can be interpreted in many ways -- from bicameral auditory illusions to mental illness. I often find myself contemplating either social media or the mind's own default mode network.
Chocolate Chip Trip is Danny's drum solo on the album, so it's wonderful and weird -- and is yet another showcase for his incredible drumming skills. But then again, this whole album is a Danny showcase.
Finally, the song 7empest and the epilogue Mockingbeat close out the album and... man, what a way to end an album and usher in the year 2020. Musically, 7empest is an odyssey -- more than 15 minutes of altering sonic landscape that provides some of the hardest edges and deeper contemplative depths on the album. Lyrically, it stands as a warning, an accusation and just short of a pronouncement of doom. In all of this, it brings to mind past anger-fueled songs from the band, as well as the iconic Ænema itself. But, in keeping with the spirit of the album, the final message is not that we're doomed. Rather, it seems to be warning us that the bottleneck has been reached. The dangers are real and what is to come will test us. Social cooperation and empathy are part of what enabled our species to rise up from the unconscious wilds, and thee tools will become essential if we're to weather the storm.
Are we weathering the storm? Are we listening to those who are hurting? Are we learning from what they have to say? Are we striving to flatten the curve and lessen the severity of the crashing waves? And, finally, are we prepared to speak with our vote against the self-interested, destructive forces that can only hasten our ruin? The tempest will be true to its nature, but we are the masters of our own.
You can find Fear Inoculum wherever you get your music. As usual, the physical release is a special treat for fans.
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