The Mars Volta
Emo’s, Oct. 3 “Is anybody there?!” screamed Mars Volta vocalist Cedric Bixler as a sold-out Emo’s throng squirmed like sardines at the band’s Friday night performance. Actually, it was the refrain from “Drunkship of Lanterns,” off this summer’s De-Loused in the Comatorium. Nevertheless, the massive Texas fan base for this off-shoot of El Paso’s At the Drive-In ensured that hundreds and hundreds of indie rock kids would shout back at Bixler’s query. When a band begins their show with a 15-minute version of a song (“Roulette Dares”) about “midnight nooses” and “boxcar cadavers,” the inmates aren’t simply running the asylum, they’ve turned it into rock theatre. What’s more, theirs is an impressive intersection between punk and jazz. This manifests as prog rock, yet the Mars Volta is too clever to produce ELO at Emo’s. What the band’s long-overdue Texas return produced instead was, at times, long and overdone. Relentless rhythms gave way to long interpretations of the songs. In the sweltering heat of a small club, this can wear on the patience of even the most chemically enhanced mind. Still, an unbridled energy wowed the sweating masses, the show being, at its most potent moments, a wonderful display of jazz inspiration. Simultaneously, it was one of the most explosive club shows Austin has seen in months. Was it punk magic or jam band ruckus? A little of both, and quite impressive when it was both at the same time. The single moment it was neither — a somber, percussion-free rendition of “Televators,” dedicated to recently deceased band member Jeremy Ward — was the most stunning of all. Slam poet-turned-MC Saul Williams opened with a collection of new poems, much of it drawing from post-9/11 politics. Coupled with the hard-charging Mars Volta, Williams completed the night of free verse and free jazz for a captive audience.This article appears in October 10 • 2003.