It's the best Tool record because it's the longest. Imagine, like, Peter Gabriel with batwings or a flower on his head singing while Lars Ulrich and Rick Wakeman just hammer it down. I feel like this record was made just for me by super-smart aliens or something, because it's just like a cross of 19. But after this summer of 2001, I've had to rethink my entire cycle theory, like maybe the cycles of music are speeding as time goes forward, since two amazing things happened: Tool put out Lateralus and I saw Tool in concert. Both were due, because girls are dumb and listen to stuff like N'S(t)ync and BBSuk. So I couldn't wait until I was 16, because fate says that would be when 1) more kickass records would come out, and 2) I'd get sex. That's when I was born.Īll those records were sitting around the house we all live in, and I grew up listening to them in the basement. And Justice for All, Celtic Frost's Into the Pandemonium, Queensryche's Operation: Mindcrime, and Slayer's South of Heaven came out. But all of the sudden, albums like Metallica's. It was 1987 and a whole bunch of lame dance music was ruling the world, like Hitler or Jesus or something. Jump ahead 16 years later and my dad got this girl pregnant, who turned out to be my mom. I think it was cosmic or fate or something that my dad was born the same exact day Chrysalis released Aqualung, in March of 1971. After the war, they moved back with a box of awesome records like the ones I mentioned. There, he got married to my grandmother, who used to sell baked goods to people at concerts, and they had my dad. My grandfather skipped out on Vietnam- because Jimi Hendrix himself told him to- and he moved to Canterbury, which is in the United England. They were Nursery Crime by Genesis (the first with Phil Collins), Yes Album by Yes, Aqualung by Jethro Tull, and In the Land of Grey and Pink by Caravan. In that year, landmark albums were released. Initially, I thought that perfect music appeared every 16 years, which is also the number of years between Fubert generations. The men in my family are perfect examples of this. I believe that music comes and goes in cycles, and some of us are lucky enough to ride the crests. My Summer Vacation, by Crispin Fubert, Ms. The problem is, Tool defines "opus" as taking their "defining element" (wanking sludge) and stretching it out to the maximum digital capacity of a compact disc.ĭictionary of the Underworld also offers several definitions for "tool," including: "a small boy used to creep through windows," "to steal from women's pockets," and "to loaf, to idle, to do nothing in particular." All of which oddly strike the nail on the head in relation to Lateralus.Īnd now, the obligatory pitching of the fork. Now, with the early new century demanding "opuses," Tool follows suit. \xC6nema spiced their sound with electronics and industry, as was the trend at the time. However, Tool have always possessed a latent understanding of absurdity and comedy their videos look like Tim Burton stop-motion, goth Primus.īut with popularity and praise, Tool's shadowy tongue-in-cheek turned into the simple biting of tongues. As emotional, melodic metal goes (the cultural impact of which will be left to the reader), it opened doors for bands like the Deftones, and to some degree, Limp Bizkit. Undertow, Tool's 1993 debut LP, took studio skill and over-trained chops to metal with aplomb. So you'd think an 80-minute opus by Tool would be right up our alley. These reviews have been less critique than loquacious concept reviews by an entertaining tramp. "Brummagem Joe, a cove as could patter or pitch the fork with anyone."Īt last, the secret motivation of my schtick and the etymology behind our name can be revealed.
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