Like their prog-pop predecessors Rush, Queensrÿche, and Pink Floyd, Muse will never be cool, but their subject matter will always be relevant—they only deal in current events that speak to timeless pathologies of the human condition. The Resistance raged against any and all machines while the environmentally conscious The 2nd Law made global warming appear to be yet another shadow government conspiracy rather than scientific fact. Likewise, Drones is not a critique of American military strategy, but rather, "the journey of a human, from their abandonment and loss of hope, to their indoctrination by the system to be a human drone, to their eventual defection from their oppressors." Really, what are Muse records but blockbuster action flicks centered around a cryptocratic nightmare that can be explained on a billboard?
Then again, you do not listen to Muse records for nuance. Muse have to hit the stadium cheap seats and the back row in any given 8th-grade history class. This is how they end up with songs like "Mercy" and "Revolt"—wherein lead singer Matt Bellamy commands tens of thousands to shout down the brainwash tactics of diabolical plutocrats while wearing Bad Boy circa-'98 shiny suits that should warrant a name change to Mu$e.
And while even the big singles are supposed to hew to Drones’ concept, Bellamy never gets too specific. Lyrics like, "Don’t leave me out to die/ I gave you everything" led many to assume opener "Dead Inside" was about Bellamy’s ex-fiancée Kate Hudson, when it’s actually the protagonist’s blue-pill indoctrination into an army of murderbots. "Defector" probably wasn’t made with the intention of mirroring Taco Bell’s latest ad campaign, but it’s way more fun to hear, "Yeah, I’m free/ From society/ You can’t control me/ I’m a defector!", as Bellamy waxing ecstatic about the A.M. Crunchwrap.
Even Muse seem to have thought their most recent work was getting too convoluted, so they’ve played up Drones as "by our standards...back to basics". At their most humble, Muse were the most histrionic of the post-OK Computer world, so Drones represents a chance to reflect on what Muse consider to be their "basics". For starters, Drones is "basic" in the sense that Hail to the Thief would be way too subtle of a pun to fit here. In both sound and its refusal to speak in anything other than the most literal, explanatory terms, Drones is somewhere between "Iron Man" and "Mr. Roboto". A "[Drill Sergeant]" interlude ends with its subject yelling "ARE YOU A HUMAN DRONE?", which leads into the chorus of "Psycho"—"I could use someone like you/ Someone who’ll kill on my command/ And ask no questions." "Psycho" itself splices Metallica’s boogie "2x4" and the first half of Full Metal Jacket, although think of Marilyn Manson playing the role of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman.
Musically, they've ditched the influence of industrial and festival EDM that resulted in the most ludicrous parts of The Resistance and The 2nd Law, which were also the best parts. While "Dead Inside" recalls the phallic funk thrust of 2nd Law highlight "Panic Station", everything here is otherwise locked and loaded for Rock Band 4. On some level, it’s heartening to know this stuff can still exist in 2015—the marathon tapping solo on "Reapers" or the 720-hp revving of "The Handler" are almost thrilling in their commitment. But even Muse's down-and-dirty rock record includes a 10-minute suite, and the very next song is an a cappella chorale of a thousand Matt Bellamys. Moreover, Drones is produced by Mutt Lange and boasts cover art from Matt Mahurin, who spent the early '90s slathering Bush, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden, and even Lou Reed in the grunge-glam sludge. The last time Lange and Mahurin collaborated on the same record, Def Leppard was asking us to stand up and kick love into motion.
Whatever pleasure can be generated from Bellamy’s admirable melodic sense and overblown hooks is negated by Muse’s insistence that they’re profound rather than fun. They’re too humorless to be camp, unwilling to explore the obvious homoerotic subtext of the plot (I mean, just read the lyrics to "Psycho") and unshakable in their errant belief they’re tearing down a power structure rather than solidifying it. Drones might as well be overlain with Entourage, à la Wizard of Oz/Dark Side of the Moon, for the ultimate in critical hate-consumption. Muse’s operatic vocal runs, tablature-bustin’ riffs, and CGI'd production feel unmistakably similar to the way Doug Ellin brandishes yachts, celebrity cameos, and bared breasts. If it’s luxury porn, just own up—we know it when we see it.
