Tool
Opium Den

“Why can't we not be sober?”; it's 1994, the voice of Maynard James Keenan is hit. Three years earlier, Paul D’Amour's raw king in "Sober" opened the demo "Opium Den" and delivered to the ears of Zoo/Volcano Entertainment the birth of one of the last myths of rock.

"Opium Den" is the first, unofficial but already evident product of the meeting between four musicians who at the dawn of the nineties, in Los Angeles, unite under the unease of a name that is betrayal of friendships and submission to rules ("tool" in military jargon), and who around the void that generates evils, and Evil, construct the anger and philosophical claims of their sessions. Danny Carey, a drummer with considerable experience, and Paul D’Amour, a restless but powerful bassist who would leave the band at the dawn of "Ænima" (1996, during full consecration) create a rhythmic fabric of primordial violence yet already rich in refinements, in the score (the odd progressions, still linked to Soundgarden-style grunge) and in style (the unpredictable accents, the insistent slap). It's the prelude to the maniacal and mathematical care of the sound that the band will gradually reveal, and it's the invitation to the wedding for the lacerating atmospheres of Adam Jones' guitar, also a special effects designer ("Jurassic Park") and therefore a mind accustomed to "polishing" a product. The "visual" attitude of Tool's music, although embryonic in "Opium Den" and irredeemably suffocated by the mediocrity of the recording, is then all in Keenan's hypnotic lyrics, one of the most personal voices in the entire history of rock, of which no one noticed in the eighties despite considerable groundwork.

Of the six tracks that make up the bootleg in question, four ("Jerk-Off," "Cold And Ugly," "Part Of Me," and "Hush") will form the leitmotif of the EP "Opiate" (1992), based on expressionist immediacy that hides/reflects that measured and "cosmic" pain that will be the tint of the albums to come (a path that will definitively flow fourteen years later into the superproduction "10,000 Days" and especially in its hyperbolic title track).

The remaining two tracks, "Sober" and "Crawl Away," will reappear in the lineup with "Undertow" (1993), a surprising debut album and future double platinum record. And precisely by comparing the official versions of the six compositions with their predecessors in "Opium Den," one is surprised at how the differences are minimal, mostly related to the lyrics or the details of the arrangement; despite the poor sound quality, the remarkable compositional measure ("Part Of Me"), the capacity for scathing criticism ("Hush"), the penchant for catchy lyrics ("Sober") effectively countered by the ambition of modern progressive-rock ("Crawl Away") had already matured. Waiting for, with "Lateralus" (2001, third studio album), all this to sublimate beyond all expectations.