One of the most fantastic and super things about 2003 was The Mars Volta's De-loused In the Comatorium - an album of such breadth and invention that the concept of a prog revival was seriously appealing for about a day or two last Summer. Now, in the cold light of March, the thought that there's hundreds of bad new bands essentially an extended drum solo away from being Yes fills this writer with fear.
Now in a more digestable four-and-a-half minutes, Televators cuts straight to the Genesisness, with the sort of preposterous lyrics last seen sung by the likes of a giant flower. It's also ace, but in no way the perfect snapshot of the Volta's oeuvre. Their cosmic punk cannot be captured by mere edits.
I fully recommend that the next time they're in town, you should take most of the week off to go and see them. Man.