Amputechture

Amputechture is the most complete, most listenable, and most accomplished album from the band to date.

It’s epic, mercurial, high-impact progressive rock that moves like a whirlwind.

The album is little different than their two previous atom bombs, De-Loused in the Comatorium and Frances the Mute -- tense and anxious, continually pushing the boundaries of extreme production, with long periods of dynamics that rise ever higher, followed by an explosion of release (usually screaming hard rock with storms of atonal brass and horns).

Strikes a perfect balance. [Sep 2006, p.96]

Amputechture shows a band honing their eruptive sound and bringing it into tight focus for the first time, routinely pushing their music to the wall without ever risking a breach.

You'd think these guys would've overheated by now, but they still love channeling chaos into one long river of song. [15 Sep 2006, p.77]

The punishing nature of the fusion furiosity is relieved by more soothing vocal sections. [12 Sep 2006]

It's on the second half where the Mars Volta catch fire. [21 Sep 2006, p.88]

All in all, Amputechture can be compared to watching a Hollywood car chase: impressive, but ultimately a heartless experience.

Amputechture, with its obsessive exploration of religious fanaticism and the physical expression of devotional desire, is not an album wanting to be loved so much as feared and listened to with a sense of awe and taxed exasperation.