Tool – Fear Inoculum

The previous Tool album came out 13 years ago, and while that fact shouldn’t affect expectations for the new release, it’s worth mentioning that this was before the world knew smartphones. Chew on that for a second, if you would.

Back in 1996, the band released Ænima, an album that not only changed the prog genre for good, but also music in general. Its follow-up, Lateralus (2001), further strengthened the band’s importance, while their latest release, 2006’s 10,000 Days, despite being a genuinely brilliant collection of music, fell short of achieving the same overall impact as its two predecessors. It did, however, cement the band’s status and even elevated their commercial success.

Since then, band members have been involved in numerous projects, most notably Maynard James Keenan’s side project A Perfect Circle, which released their long-awaited album Eat the Elephant. Among the many things drummer Danny Carey has been involved in, Legend of the Seagullmen is particularly worth mentioning.

The visual aspect has always been an important part of the Tool experience, and this release of course delivers something unique and largely unseen before. The outstanding artwork draws parallels to some of the most prominent trademarks of previous Tool releases. The uniqueness of Fear Inoculum’s packaging lies primarily in the fact that it features a small screen, speaker, and charger. The screen itself is a cool gimmick showcasing beautiful Alex Grey visuals, though these will most likely work better when experienced on a big screen – most likely at future Tool shows.

It’s worth mentioning that the music is initially released physically only as a limited-edition CD. At least to begin with. It’s hard to imagine that a regular CD and vinyl release won’t follow at a later point – another somewhat odd decision given vinyl’s current popularity.

But the first new Tool album released since the invention of smartphones – and with it, the rise of streaming – doesn’t play by the rules of the music world and industry circa 2019. Not only are the songs longer than ever, despite countless studies indicating that attention spans are lower than ever, but the very concept of the album is becoming less and less relevant in the consciousness of the general public. Tool, of course, go their own way, refusing to do what is expected or perceived as common sense. And why shouldn’t they? They have followed this very approach throughout their career, resulting in one that balances immense commercial success with critical acclaim.

Fear Inoculum is once again produced by Joe Baressi, and the production is both perfectly executed and familiar, leaning toward its predecessor with a few aspects standing out. First, the general drum sound is placed somewhere between Lateralus and 10,000 Days, which is fortunate, as the latter lacked some of Danny Carey’s signature sonic DNA. Secondly, the drums and bass are pushed further up in the mix, which isn’t necessarily a positive choice.

Musically, Fear Inoculum sees a band that was never shy of long songs pushing things even further, delivering an album where only the instrumental “Chocolate Chip Trip” clocks in under the 10-minute mark. Tool’s music has always demanded a massive level of investment from the listener, and that is perhaps even more true here.

The musical form – and even the genre – the band created in the late ’90s and early ’00s served as the backbone of 10,000 Days. While that album didn’t introduce a new musical revolution, it expanded upon ideas developed on those two pivotal releases. The same is true of Fear Inoculum. The band builds upon those foundations without venturing into an entirely different direction. While the ingredients may be familiar, the overall feel and atmosphere are distinctly different.

After the first few spins, the album evokes both familiarity and confusion. The long songs demand a great deal from the listener, despite often featuring recognizable Tool elements. Tracks flow seamlessly into one another, yet initially feel somewhat alike. It takes patience and immersion to uncover the dynamics and nuances of the songs – and of the album as a whole. The familiarity stems from the band’s use of trademark elements, but the overall expression is more expansive and entrancing, resulting in a more atmospheric experience.

At first, the album may seem fairly approachable, which it is, but the real magic unfolds after four or five listens, when the dense layering begins to reveal itself. From that point on, there is no turning back. The structural backbone remains intact and just as important as ever, but it’s the layering, the sheer genius of the arrangements, and the way musical elements bounce off one another that truly breathe life into the music.

For the most part, the songs are driven initially by bass and drums, with guitars layered on top and vocals slightly pulled back. This approach fits well with the band’s current live sound, but pulling the vocals back isn’t necessarily a positive decision, especially live. It detracts somewhat from the performance of one of the most distinctive vocalists in modern music.

Speaking of Keenan, his performance bears the mark of his work with A Perfect Circle, making it more rounded and softer than what we traditionally associate with Tool. At the same time, the performance retains plenty of Tool DNA thanks to its rhythmic delivery. It’s virtually impossible for Keenan not to deliver a great – even chilling – performance, but the absence of more aggressive, intense, or harsh vocals does reduce some of the dynamics and unpredictability.

The album also lacks some of the more directly intense and heavy moments familiar from Tool’s catalog, not only from overtly heavy tracks like “Hooker With a Penis” or “Ticks & Leeches,” but especially from the explosive climaxes found in otherwise restrained songs like “Pushit” or “Reflection.” Several tracks here could have benefited from such eruptions to elevate them additionally.

Another aspect that could have been avoided is the instrumental “Chocolate Chip Trip,” which disrupts the album’s flow with its almost goofy nature. Tool have always experimented with strange interludes and instrumentals, often successfully – particularly on Ænima, where each such piece felt perfectly placed. The band has a long history of messing with their audience, and this may simply be another example of that. This time, however, it doesn’t quite work and detracts from an otherwise dazzling flow. On the other hand, the closer “7empest,” with its significantly heavier nature, serves almost like an encore. If one really stretches the interpretation, “Chocolate Chip Trip” could be seen as a break before that encore.

Fear Inoculum demanded a lot from its creators, and it demands just as much from its listeners. Those unwilling or unable to invest time and focus will fail to uncover the album’s true depth and the boldness of its artistic vision.

In an age where artists often do whatever it takes to fit rapidly changing trends and compensate for declining income from music sales, Tool continue to stick to their guns, just as they have since signing their first major deal. Few artists manage to succeed entirely on their own terms while simultaneously reshaping an art form. Pink Floyd did it back in the day. In 2019, Tool are still doing it.

www.toolband.com