After the implosion of legendary post-hardcore outfit At the Drive In, guitarist Omar Rodríguez-López and vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala would go on to form The Mars Volta. This resulted in one of the most dense, most harrowing catalogs in all of prog rock. The music that these two evil sorcerers put together is a gauntlet for your sanity that few could face with a clear head. Whatever is compelling you to complete this dark ritual, we’ve put together a list of exotic, man-made substances to carry you through. Be warned; drugs that don’t look like math equations have no power here.
Self-Titled (2022) + 2CB
We begin with Volta’s 2022 comeback album, and the first to feature lyrics that wouldn’t trigger a wellness check if you posted them on Facebook. Gone are the novel-length tracks and disturbing, atonal melodies. The band settles gracefully into middle age here, embracing mellow psychedelia and song structures that a person not currently having a mental health crisis might enjoy. That makes it the perfect album to wash down with everyone’s favorite ecstasy analog, 2CB. Some light visuals and a tingly, yet slippery, sense of well-being should be all you need here.
Noctourniquet (2012) + 2C-T-7 (Blue Mystic)
This album is an oft-overlooked gem that mostly appeals to people who enjoy portmanteaus and the amplified screams of a rabbit caught in a snare. Omar’s guitar is strangely absent here, ceding the spotlight to an array of squelching, buzzing synthesizers that might pierce the ear if certain measures aren’t taken. And when we say “certain measures” we of course mean a handful of gel capsules containing the research chemical 2C-T-7, or “Blue Mystic,” according to the forty-seven-year-old Dutch cyber-goth man you’ll have to buy it from. Cedric’s caterwauling over waves of noise will keep you grounded when the walls begin to breathe and the weeping face of the kid you bullied in high school starts appearing every time you close your eyes.
Octahedron (2009) + 251-NBOMe
Let’s just get this out of the way now; “Octahedron” isn’t anyone’s favorite. Long-simmering tensions within the ranks resulted in an album that felt noodly and directionless; a simulacra of the fierce creativity that had been on display up until this point. To slog through this one we’re going to have to turn to acid’s shady cousin who hasn’t shown up to Thanksgiving in years. Much like Octahedron, 251-NBOMe is a pale imitation of a transcendent experience that only exists because crucial ingredients were in short supply. On the off chance you experience brain swelling or seizures, you won’t be missing much anyway.
The Bedlam in Goliath (2008) + 5-MeO-MiPT
We now enter the run of albums that cemented the band’s legend status among people who enjoy audio-induced panic attacks. On Bedlam we find an unhinged Volta, grabbing you by the throat and refusing to let go until you admit that in all the days of your life, ever since you’ve been born, you’ve never heard a band play like this one before. Fortunately, someone had the foresight to synthesize 5-MeO-MiPT before this album came out, so there’s no need to let it raw dog your pineal gland. The come-up will have you power-walking through the mall during the record’s explosive first half, attracting the attention of numerous security guards who will be too freaked out to actually approach you. The mania will fade into an ego-dissolving glow just in time for Bedlam’s sinister, slow burn of a finish. We recommend riding the last few tracks out in the back of an Uber, letting the driver’s panicked questions slowly become one with Cedric’s voice.
Amputechture (2006) + MDPV (Bath Salts)
Without the proper precautions, this album will chew your brain like gum and stick it to the bottom of God’s desk. You need something to put you in a state where you can hear lyrics like “The kiosk in my temporal lobe is shaped like Rosalyn Carter,” and just say hell yeah dude. Something to shield you from the psychic damage that songs like “Tetragrammaton” and “Viscera Eyes” can deal out. The free trial of psychosis that bath salts offer is the only companion that you can trust to guide you through these eight labyrinthine tracks, and to help you defeat the swat team that is currently breaching your apartment door.
Frances the Mute (2005) + K2 (Spice)
Here we find what many consider to be The Mars Volta’s highest high, but also their most challenging ascent. Frances is supposedly a concept album, but every time someone tries to explain the story to me I get a really bad migraine and then suddenly wake up behind the wheel of a car approaching the US-Mexico border. The epic arrangements and experimental ambient passages are likely to overwhelm listeners who haven’t already taped black trash bags over all of the windows in their homes. K2 pairs with Francis for this exact reason; becoming a prisoner in your own body gives you no choice but to stay laser-focused on the music. You may be tempted to check Instagram during Omar’s four-minute solo in the iconic opening track, but this isn’t an option when blinking too fast makes your heart rate skyrocket. Spice from your local smoke or vape shop will suffice, but we recommend an early 2000s midwestern gas station vintage if at all possible. (Pick up “Frances the Mute” in our store, buy the drugs elsewhere)
Deloused in the Comatorium (2003) + α-Pyrrolidinohexiophenone (Alpha-PHP)
Deloused is arguably the best debut album in the prog, marred only by an unconscionable amount of Red Hot Chili Peppers cameos. If you can only make it through one Volta album it should probably be this one, and you should probably do it with a head full of dirty stimulants. Wait for the tremors and cold sweats to set in before pressing play. The sirens of the ambulance a loved one has likely already called for you will sync up with the opening guitar line of Son et Lumiere. Just show the paramedics your Spotify listening history and they will know exactly what to do.