The Mars Volta
De‐Loused in the Comatorium

MDMA in the venue's parking lot, engines roaring…Go!

Progressive revving, ultrasonic overtakes; instrumental pirouettes on vocal tightrope walking, schizoid writhing. Mighty leaps in rings of fire, amphetamine-paced rhythm section with a faint Mediterranean aftertaste. Hallucinogenic bathroom breaks.

Near-miss crashes, near-miss brawls. Heart-stopping stop-and-go moments, explosive percussion triggered by sizzling electronic fuses; psychedelic pit-stops. Triple somersaults in sizzling soundscapes, pulsing basses supporting adrenaline-pumping rhythms. Chemical muscle spasms.

Boiling asphalt and ripped clothes, uncontrollable contortions on hot coals. Dangerous curves and strobe lights, deafening engines and dilated pupils, brain on fire. Oil slicks on the track and puddles of piss along the walls; cocaine between the teeth, frantic driving, obsessive grinding, burning skids. Smoke in the eyes, ungainly movements, bleeding pistons, sweat and gasoline. Smoking clutches, broken bottles, blown tires, final straight and frantic dance, frenzied straight and final dance…Brake!...It's over.