Tool
Fear Inoculum

Just like the multifaceted, multi-shaped, elusive Tool-like aesthetic demands, my analytical spirit must also bow to the schizophrenic multiplicity that the listening evokes in me.

One personality is not enough to grasp such a sacred musical ox; within me, different individuals writhe in apparent conflict, in the futile attempt to embrace and understand "Fear Inoculum."

The die-hard fan in me

Thank Heaven this damn album has come out; I've spent thirteen years being mocked while scouring the web for any rumor heralding good news, even rummaging through dubious musical sites like Debaser.

And sometimes even on some porn sites... I admit it, but I did it just to know what the hell Keenan was up to; I swear I didn't care about that voluptuous woman bouncing around while a piece of Lateralus was playing in the background.

And those years of waiting were well spent, Danny seems to have eight arms like the loving deity that towers over the booklet and floats in the awesome video included, graciously gifted for just 77 euros.

Because 7even is the central theme of the entire album, as you know.

Naturally, in front of some insensitive and mean users, I swore that never ever would I spend corporate vouchers for the coveted box set: "I'd rather burn them and shove the smoldering embers up my ass"… just to be sure.

Ahah… what a funny jerk I am.

If they knew I'm actually saving up the necessary money for the purchase, I'm sure I'd find hordes of ill-intentioned people hot on my heels on bulldozers, intent on smashing the precious trophy and my capacious scrotum.

Precisely 0.016 euros a day, just enough to take 13 years to accumulate the amount, precisely those these charlatans made me wait to hear something new.

New, so to speak, because Adam and Cancello weave and reverberate helical psycho blasts that make any other living being who has engaged with a string instrument seem like a humble apprentice.

And that moron Maynardo is even better than La Brie and Pavarotti together.

This is the best album ever composed by a band of semi-deities, and anyone who denies it doesn’t understand a damn thing about True Music!

And now, filled with good intentions and pushed by new esoteric sonic sap, I grab a rifle and go spread the Word.

Convert, all you foolish audiophiles, Sfascia before all!

The moderate fan in me

Finally, this damn album has come out, for thirteen years I have been peeking here and there, hoping to catch credible news about the evolution of events, even on Debaser.

Inadvertently, I also ended up on some porn sites, just type Maynarda (all hot) and you'll discover an unsuspected collection of erotically themed outrage... what disgust, I’m shocked, where will we end up!

The good news is that it’s available on CD only by shelling out 77 euros, in exchange for a quilted human leather box set, translucent reflective, and multimedia too. Somewhere there must also be the toaster slot, so that even taste buds can be involved in the experience. With only 777 additional euros, a bottle from Maynardo's vineyard and genuine limited-edition fractal ham.

Go to hell, you bastards, you know well how to lure your fans.

In fact, the kit is awesome and brings unimaginable multisensory and tactile experiences, as if your bird had the same silky consistency as the muzzle of a horse; stroke the muzzle of a horse and you'll understand.

Whoever denies it is lying knowing they're lying, but I'm waiting for the poverty version, and in just about two days the video with the flying little eyes + floating psychedelic Shiva will be online in HD.

And then I don't really want to find myself in trouble on the landing with a handful of farming friends armed with napalm and pitchfork, undecided on what to shove up my ass first, in the noble intent of punishing my weakness.

So, with all the balance I still have, despite instant acoustic delight, I can state that:

• Danny has eight arms, the rhythmic session is impressive (who knew?).

Rhythm changes, odd times, things you wouldn’t believe even after hearing;

• Guitar and bass (Adam and Justin) draw the usual twisted structures, cleverly unresolved, acoustic metaphors of the Infinite (ok, I exaggerated);
• The pieces, excluding interludes, are all more elongated, but even this time there's no descent into masturbation. Even my member expands while listening… amazing.

Some time ago I also thought about shortening my member, to give it a more harmonious and compact structure, to achieve synthesis, but then I changed my mind. Sometimes long is better;

• Maynardo sings like a sissy passing by by chance, but he hasn't given a damn for twenty years, and the final result doesn't seem much different from previous performances.
• Moreover, Maynardo is no longer able to scream like my wife when she discovers that inconvenient brake mark that I still haven't removed from the toilet wall. I do not deny that a rant in "The Grudge" style would still fit (P.S. Honey, if you accidentally read this review, know that I was joking, you scream much more than Maynardo in his golden days);
• The care and sonic peculiarities that I have loved and appreciated over the years remain unchanged, this album is the culmination of a journey, perhaps representing its sum, and indeed you'll find Lateralus, Aenema, with more rarely echoes of Undertow. In sounds, it is as much Tool as it can get.

An itinerary that led them to contaminate metal with increasingly progressive, esoteric, technical elements, creating a unique and, at the moment, non-replicable tone;

• The lyrics are at times embarrassing... but does anyone really give a damn about the lyrics of medal bands and the like?
• Maynardo needs to accidentally end up under a tram in San Francisco, better if it's one of those bought from the Municipality of Milan.

Therefore, a careful casting could relaunch the project on unexpected shores;

Obviously, the work is so layered and rich that it requires many listens, Tool albums are not immediate, even though we are now accustomed, the greatest treasure you will find is in the folds of vibrations that will come as always to tickle directly the pineal gland.

As nobody else can do, triggering neuropoietic processes, crossing your structures with millions of seismic and caressing electrical discharges, twisted and sinuous.

And it couldn’t be otherwise considering the presence of Barresi.

A very honest work, respectful of its own talent, which cannot disappoint those who appreciate the Tool matrix. A release that also represents an evolution towards more Progressive shores, demonstrating a quest and a non-immobility, yet without upheavals.

The annoying fan in me (but rather in you other fake Tool lovers)

Finally, this damn album is out, and after thirteen long years at the very least it needs to sound the way I say, after all I've worn out my fingers in the frantic search for news, even on that agonizing place that is #debaserstamorendo. The additional wear on fingertip/palm is due to those pop-ups that, against my iron will, redirected me to sleazy sites.

I've always loved the Tool but the sounds are completely different, they've become a free Jazz Medal band

If they had cut the songs by half, the work would have benefited in synthesis.

This album is a ramble, masturbatory but not Prog.

But also, it is a masturbatory Prog album, a "container of riffs".

However, there are no riffing generators of headbanging.

Maynardo no longer screams.

Beautiful, they are beautiful, talented, they are talented, but they have tired me. Outdated, I was hoping for a neo-melodic turn with incursions into aboriginal folk, and instead the same old warmed-up soup.

Sounds recorded ten years ago, or maybe earlier, when they were floating in the maternal womb.

By now, those who love them have undergone the lobotomy of Drimtiatahhzazzione, so the album sucks.

They are a hell of a group, but since even my greengrocer has discovered them now, it is much more chic to dive into what is mainstream like Vinnie Jones.

A hug to fans and non-fans, to the disappointed and not.

In any case, listen without prejudice.

And to those who do not like it, SHAMEONYOU SHAMEONYOUUUU NOW!!!

Amen.