Muse’s, The Resistance

Its hard to take Muse’s latest album seriously. Sure, if you are one of the many die hard fans, you are going to lap this shit up and have potentially whizzed your pants out of sheer excitement after reading the title of this post. I hate to disappoint you, but this latest effort by the English rockers sounds like a parody of the predictable image they have propagated over the last fifteen years. Don’t get me wrong, that image is very successful and downright enjoyable to experience. Hell, I rate a Muse set I caught at a festival a couple of years back, as up there with some of the finest I’ve seen, if only for shear musicianship and stagecraft.

But Muse, the success of that image relies heavily on the expectation of reinvention. What we see in The Resistance is everything we’ve already heard before, emphasised to a level we have never seen before. The result is a caricature, and it reminds me of a little band we all know that starts with the letter N and ends with the letters ickelback. Sorry Muse, The Resistance just doesn’t cut it.