Blindspotting: Tool, "Lateralus"

Let's get dark and play with time signatures!

Tool, "Lateralus"
Slim Goodbody's cousin Dave

The Legacy: Often credited with keeping good old-fashioned metal alive, commercially speaking, during the grunge era, Tool were already a huge deal by the time they got around to releasing their third studio LP. And by "huge," I mean they'd built up enough clout to go through rites of passage like getting into an album-delaying fight with their label, or faking out the fans by announcing an incorrect title and song names for their hotly anticipated next release — both of which were boxes they checked during the run-up to the arrival of Lateralus in May of 2001.

They were rewarded handsomely for their willingness to play the rock 'n' roll game, with fans giving the band their first No. 1 album to the tune of a quarter of a million units purchased during the first week alone. Top 40 singles aren't really a thing when you sound like Tool — and make a habit of recording songs that stomp well past the five-minute mark — but it's a testament to the rabidity of their following that "Schism" peaked at No. 67. (The song eventually earned them their second Best Metal Performance Grammy.)

Such is the ardor of Tool fans that it was difficult to pinpoint a consensus pick for their best album; it seems like it's a coin toss between Lateralus and its predecessor, 1996's Ænima. I didn't know this going in, but apparently Lateralus marks the spot where the band started moving in more of a prog-metal direction; since I am neither a prog guy nor a metal guy, I suppose that makes this the better choice for a Blindspotting column.

First Impressions: It's hard not to respect Tool for the sheer amount of musical muscle they bring to bear on each of these songs, both in terms of compositional heft as well as simple volume. For me, however, it's just as difficult to really get into the music: Listening to Lateralus fills me with the same degree of clinical appreciation I might feel while walking through a particularly loud modern art gallery. It's obvious that a tremendous amount of skill and an equal amount of passion went into these songs, but labor doesn't necessarily guarantee enjoyment, and after spinning this album at half-dozen times, I'm no closer to understanding Tool fans than I was before I started.

I think a lot of this has to do with the high value I tend to place on human heat when I'm listening to music. I realize that's kind of a squidgy rock-crit term, but hopefully it makes sense anyway; if it doesn't, what I'm trying to say is that I want to hear the sound of human beings communing and communicating through music, and while doing so, I want to come as close as possible to feeling the air in the room where the communion took place.

Man. The more I type, the further I feel like I'm getting from what I want to say. Maybe it's enough to say Lateralus feels cold and precise — a record that leaves nothing to chance, with every part precision-tooled to fit just so. This is an approach that works in the music's favor, but somewhat paradoxically — for me, anyway — it also inserts an emotional barrier that's really hard to get past. I'm glad I listened to this album, and I have nothing negative to say about the members of Tool as musicians, but I can't imagine a single scenario that would lead me to revisit Lateralus for pleasure.

Favorite Song: My goal is always to pick a lesser-loved song from these records, but I'd be lying through my teeth if I chose anything other than "Schism." It's the only track that poked through the droning gloom with something approaching a hook.