Staking Claim to the Soul: Progressive Los Angeles rockers Tool Provide Beacon of Hope For an Unimaginative Musical Environment

Ryan Gray

It's interesting that, for a 21st century "metal band," Tool's music comes across as so ferociously beautiful. If an alarm of contradiction rings in your feeble mind, don't fret --you may be one of many who just don't get it.

They're no tools, they're rock gods. Tool keeps it serious but soulful on tour and on their latest disc, Lateralus.

Known for eerie guitar solos, Herculean drum riffs and divinely demonic vocals, Tool offers too much artistry, passion and social commentary to be ignored any longer. That's reason number one why the tour supporting their breakthrough Lateralus recently packed the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Irvine, which fittingly enough happened to be on All Saints Day.

You could feel that it would be a night to remember when drummer Danny Carey, the band's anchor, guitarist Adam Jones and bassist Justin Chancellor powerfully launched their aural assault with "The Grudge." Maynard James Keenan begged the audience to "Give away the stone/Let the waters kiss and transmutate these leaden grudges into gold/Let go." For those who followed his advice, they were transformed into an alternate universe of musically charged nirvana.

The fact that the highly charged moment seemed to be lost on several preemie fans was not altogether surprising, granted the breadth and complication of Tool's music. Underground sensation turned rock idols seemingly overnight, they're a tough nut to crack. Maynard, a banshee crying out in the wilderness, vocalizes the disappointment and rage tied in with his own everyday struggle to come to peace with humanity. At the same time, he offers a strange sense of hope that bridges the gap between utter despair and the realization that Feng Shui of the heart, soul and mind is the key to living in harmony with not only oneself but the world itself. It might sound trite to the non-believer, but Tool's main message is that through the wonderful music they create and the inevitable freedom of the mind that ensues, anything is possible.

"Don't Worry, Be Happy," this ain't! That is, unless you listen hard and see the beauty beneath the beast on Lateralus.

At least for diehard Tool fans, Thursday night lived up to all the lofty expectations. The Los Angeles quartet unleashed several pleasant surprises, including rare performances of "Ticks & Leeches" from Lateralus, "Opiate" -- the title track off their 1992 debut -- plus performances by contortionists and special guest Tricky supplying additional vocals and percussion. While concentrating on songs from Lateralus, Tool hit an early stride with "Stinkfist" and continued the momentum with a super-charged, extended jam version of "Pushit" from their 1996 smash, ÆNIMA. Surprisingly enough, the crowd became distracted during "Schism," which is #14 on Billboard's current Modern Rock singles chart. Unfortunately, the age and lack of overall band knowledge was evident in the faces of 17 and 18 year-olds who barely knew the songs off the band's latest album, not to mention their first four.

The group's eclectic music videos, the brain child of guitarist and film artist, Jones, were shown throughout the concert on two large screens, while Maynard swayed in time in front of a third and smaller one onstage, keeping the crowd -- which periodically appeared to be strangely apathetic and restless -- at bay. Indeed, it was evident many concertgoers were simply lost as the band launched into melodic and introspective renditions of "Disposition," "The Patient," and an amazingly beautiful movement called "Triad." But the crowd tried its best to keep up, erupting several times throughout the night with mosh pits and impromptu bonfires on the lawn. But, vintage Tool, the band wouldn't allow the younger members of the audience get too comfortable.

You got the idea that most would have been happier if Linkin Park or Disturbed were thrashing about onstage.

Though recently criticized by audiences for going through the motions on stage -- in Texas no doubt, go figure -- Maynard was his typical magnetic self, surrendering himself to spasmodic dances, heaving himself to and fro in frenzied brilliance. He settled down a bit as the show evolved, even strapping on a guitar and supplying added rhythm on "Disposition," "Triad" and "The Patient." Before the band launched into its closing number, "Lateralis," he seized the microphone and asked the audience to "reflect on the time we've spent together" to strive to accomplish something constructive in the weeks ahead.

"Hopefully you found a source of inspiration, and if you needed it, some healing," he uttered to the screams of a conservative estimate of some 17,000 fans.

Which sums up why Tool is so peculiar, yet magically addictive. An artist who once made a living by providing spatial design concepts for Los Angeles pet stores, Maynard has ascended to the rock god ranks by tackling such uncommon themes as rape, prostitution and gluttony, while delving deeper to apply them to the state of anima, the soul, a fact that allows added insight into the title of their classic ÆNIMA -- one of its finest tracks, "Stinkfist," deals with the desire to transcend the limitations of religion and spiritual trauma, as well as the necessity to purge all the trivialities from one's soul in order to better understand and accept where life's journey may lead. The son of a Baptist minister, Maynard might just the man to pull off a song which -- on the surface -- deals with such taboos as anal sex, using his soaring vocals to drive home the initial pain, physical acceptance and ultimate fulfillment associated with this form of love. "Knuckle deep inside the borderline/This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to/Relax/Slip away," he sings, the blunt mental picture of the scene acquiring an added meaning as he answers, "Something kinda sad about the way that things have come to be/Desensitized to everything/What became of subtlety?"

The biggest mistake you can make with a band like Tool is to take anything they say or do literally, or to shut out their message altogether. If you don't open yourself to their mastery, you may be selling yourself short. What many don't comprehend about Tool lyrics is their conenction to ruminations on spirituality, freedom of choice and hope. It's laughable to hear some people complain that, "Some of their stuff is OK but they're just too evil for me."

Missing the boat entirely. Tool simply hands you the recipe; it's up to you to fuck it up.

"So crucify the ego, before it's far too late to leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical/And you will come to find that we are all one mind, capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable," Maynard sang in "Reflection," -- during which Hawk from Tricky's band added alternate reggae lyrics as contortionists Osseus Labyrinth performed acrobatics while suspended some 100 feet above the stage.

Unless you were emotionally vacant Thursday night --and in spite of the Amphitheater's poor acoustics and less-than-intimate setting -- hopefully you left the arena with not only newfound hope but a new outlook. And for that one moment in time -- and possibly for the foreseeable future -- Maynard, Carey, Jones and Chancellor, through their intricate, symphonic movements and emotionally charged lyrics, reached the pinnacle of progressive rock.

Ryan Gray is a writer, musician, beach bum and recent casualty of a dotcom failure. He currently writes a weekly art and culture review for a Los Angeles newspaper.