Music

Muse have long weathered criticism that they survive solely because they occupy a space vacated by Radiohead, scuttling into the abandoned ‘OK Computer’ sound-shell like a hermit crab in eyeliner. The inference being, of course, that Muse have no identity of their own, and are therefore a bad thing. Though singer Matt Bellamy’s Jerry Lee-esque contortions make their concerts a thrilling spectacle, ‘Black Holes...’ is the first Muse album to defy this reasoning. No one else could, or would, have made a record that sounds like this.

Much has been made of Muse ‘discovering’ ’80s-style computer funk with latest single ‘Supermassive Black Hole’, but wait until you get a load of  the processed mariachi horns and acid key-squalls of ‘Knights Of Cydonia’. It sounds like Erasure hijacking a Wolfmother show. Even better are the distorted flamenco strums, tricksy time shifts, and shameless stadium drum riffs of ‘Hoodoo’. You could be forgiven for thinking this isn’t Muse’s own ‘OK Computer’, but their ‘Kid A’: a deliberate attempt to educate and alienate the fanbase at the same time.

At heart, though, ‘Black Holes…’ is not so much a radical departure from their previous work but a refinement of their style. ‘Soldier’s Poem’ takes familiar prog-ish ingredients (Minor Key Tinkle # 3, Patent Breathless Croon) but through some process of molecular indie gastronomy, combines them in a refreshing way. Muse can get away with writing a song called ‘Exo-Politics’ (with a pleading cry of ‘Will our leaders tell us why?’) simply because if you strip down the electronics and histrionics, you get a boogie rock anthem which could have come from Grand Funk Railroad.

Though the band clearly take themselves very seriously (opener ‘Take A Bow’ suggests ID cards are the first sign of the apocalypse), their theatrical po-facedness comes off as camp rather than pretentious. This makes them both more entertaining and more inclusive – in Muse’s minds the Theremin-led ballad ‘Invincible’, and its chorus of ‘Together we’re invincible’, may well be a paean to revolutionary socialism, but in real life it’s destined to be a staple of teenage ‘will you go out with me?’ mix CDs. This is the style that suits Muse best – a tin-foil hat worn with dancing shoes.