The progenitors of post-hardcore have been watching the throne and biding their time since ripping up Coachella’s stage in 2012. Now, with Sparta guitarist Keeley Davis replacing founding member Jim Ward, we finally see At The Drive In’s first shot at the title in nearly two decades, and what could have been a cantankerous effort from a band past their prime is shot through with enough adrenaline to get it over the line.
The translation (from Latin) of the record’s heavily stylized title in • ter a • li • a is “among other things”, a name that gives the sense that the band have much more to rage about than the issues addressed in these 11 tracks. The Mars Volta rarely flung barbs at any real-world conceit, so that’s 17 years of mounting political fury bubbling away between Rodriguez-Lopez and Bixler-Zavala. And as Cedric rips into ‘Continuum’, boy does he sound pissed off.
As is to be expected, age has somewhat tempered their ire; in • ter a • li • a opener ‘No Wolf Like The Present’ doesn’t come exploding out of the gates the same way ‘Arcarsenal’ did on Relationship Of Command. Some of the Volta nasal sneer lingers in Bixler-Zavala’s as he cannibalizes his own discography – “There’s no wolf like the present / take all your history and scrap it for parts” he mocks in the chorus, before ripping into a tenor scream that feels instantly nostalgic. Gone is the cleanliness of Nocturniquet’s haunted falsetto heights – Bixler-Zavala is back to raking his vocal cords through the gravel (as evidenced by last year’s tour-ending nodules) and we’re grateful for it.
‘Continuum’ is much more of a return to form, with Bixler-Zavala spittin’ writtens like a coke-addled beat poet over Rodriguez-Lopez’s restless, howling licks. The latter has taken over production responsibilities along with Sound Factory’s Rich Costey, and together they’ve come closer to capturing ATDI’s manic live sound than ever before. As a result, Paul Hinojo’s pounding basslines have never sounded better. Having a lyric sheet will no doubt improve the experience; that opening line can’t be “I’ve gotta get a new phone”. It can’t be.
It’s in the record’s first single ‘Governed By Contagions’ that ATDI’s antidotal animal first truly bares its teeth. “How many bites do you think it takes to get to the cyanide tooth?” is the record’s most resounding image, a visceral swipe at America’s political landscape eating itself; the desire to be free of its intrigues by any means. The future punters are already there on the pressing, clapping like the guillotine. ATDI have always sounded like the aural personification of Bixler-Zavala’s furious mule-kicking, but they’re now able to aim and control those kicks with greater accuracy. Don’t forget, that energy ripped the band apart more than once in the past – restraint makes the band more impactful as agents for change.
With ‘Incurably Innocent’, ATDI dive into knife-edge territory, speaking directly to a victim of sexual assault sans the lyricist’s notorious acid-diving abstraction. Initial responses were underwhelmed, but in all honesty, the subject matter is well served by the no-frills approach. Instead of holding the thesaurus out in front of himself as a means of remaining distant (or to cover his blown-out pupils), Bixler-Zavala wields it like a cudgel.
A near-pop sensibility emerges that threads through the record’s centre, cut across by the Fugazi-force of ‘Torrentially Cutshaw’; the ethereal hum of ‘Ghost-Tape No.9’. Credit where credit’s due, new guitarist Keeley Davis blends right in with the furniture, as if the hole in the old band perfectly matched his shape.
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Maybe ‘Hostage Stamps’ should have borne the ghost-tape moniker: it’s In/Casino/Out era ATDI raised from the dead. Their revival seemed written in the stars, anyway, like that of their contemporaries in Refused, Alexisonfire, Underoath, or Rage Against The Machine. In their forties, At The Drive-In remain restless, defibbed into action by the rage of the ages, fueled by the repeat injustices of the corrupt. in • ter a • li • a, like its namesake, starts off gradually, threatening to vanish into the sea of imitators the old band spawned, but renewed vitality and a more prescient intent return the upstarts to a position of authority.
Which is not to say that At The Drive-In’s return is a throwing-down of the gauntlet, a direct challenge to the recalcitrants of the genre (or at least the less bellicose); it’s more of an offering of the gauntlet. Confident in maturity, they hold out their former mantle of furious rebellion, waiting expectantly for the new blood to reach up and rip it from them. All the pack needs is a leader.
3.5 / 5
in • ter a • li • a is out this Friday through Rise Records/Cooking Vinyl, and can be preordered here.
