Tonic Immobility by Tomahawk

Presentación del Álbum: Tonic Immobility - Tomahawk

It is one of those events that can’t be allowed to slip past without remark: a new Tomahawk, eight long years after the last studio album, is a gift out of the blue. This “supergroup” earns that status while debunking the entire concept, and not even the smartest old dog could teach these ones any new tricks. Mike Patton (Faith No More, Mr. Bungle), Duane Denison (The Jesus Lizard), John Stanier (Helmet, Battles) and Trevor Dunn (Mr. Bungle, Fantômas)… each boasts a CV that would be the envy of any veteran musician on the hunt for indie-rock credibility. And these guys still hit it like they’re only 40. Over the course of 20 years, Tomahawk have had fun mixing up country, indie rock, aggressive and dissonant sounds, spooky ambience out of a horror film, and powerhouse choruses to deliver a unique, genre-defying result. Hey, simply redoing Faith no Helmet with a shot of Mr. Lizard would have been too easy. What if music was the ultimate weapon in the fight against enforced immobility, a silver bullet to slay the possibility of spiraling out of control? That’s what these four friends must have been thinking as they named this 2021 album. Tonic Immobility is both a perfect summary of the group’s career achievements and a new avenue of exploration. Its power is coiled in the perfect balance between the vocal madness of Patton, zooming from crooner to howling psychopath in an instant, the inspired guitar of Denison and the impeccable execution of the rhythm section (check the precision of Stanier, who must have been born with a metronome in place of a brain). From opener Shhh!, unsettlingly understated to suddenly explosive, through massively powerful closer Dog Eat Dog, Tomahawk plays with sounds and moods (the spaghetti western accents in Doomsday Fatigue) and tosses out the rule book (the guitar in Predators and Scavengers would power a thrash metal album, while the quirky, unsettling vocal seems to float over it malignantly). Mainly, this combo outstrips the competition by never overdoing things, or doing things for too long – witness the average song length of three minutes. No need to drag things out when the collective expertise of these players is self-evident. Despite the apparent madness defining each song, Tomahawk is a real band – crazy, sure, but cohesive, not an outlet for musicians looking for experimentation. That makes all the difference, and in that regard, Tonic Immobility is an exemplary success: just the right amount of crazy without being over-the-top. © Chief Brody/Qobuz