Muse
Drones (Warner Bros.)

It is difficult to pinpoint when, exactly, Muse became a stupendous joke. Was it the brain-melting insanity of the English trio’s 2006 single “Knights of Cydonia”? Was it when the band played atop towering pillars and floated a giant UFO above the crowd? Or was it 2012’s Olympic theme song “Survival”, which declared, “Life’s a race and I am gonna win”?

Here’s the crux: if Muse has become a jet-fuelled, knowing parody of its former self, it is a hysterically funny one. That is, after you get past the realization that never again will Muse write material as raw and heartfelt as its Radiohead-ish early work. You’ll find only glimpses of emotional integrity on the trio’s latest, Drones, a dystopian concept album about frontman Matt Bellamy’s beloved conspiracy theories.

Even so, Drones is a welcome throwback to Muse’s former focus on the basics of larger-than-life guitars, bass, and drums, recorded in Vancouver’s Warehouse Studio.

Mostly forgoing the electronic and orchestral experimentation of The 2nd Law and The Resistance, the band seems to be gaining fulfillment again from its primeval instruments. Chris Wolstenholme’s bass lines are as intricate and vigorous as ever, while Dom Howard’s heart-hammering beats demand unironic fist-pumping obedience. Bellamy’s famed vocals are less faux-operatic and more Jeff Buckley–inspired than they have been in years. His passionate, impressive range is straight-up babely. And the guitar hero’s fretwork is extraterrestrial in its effortless complexity.

That said, Muse is still mucking around in gallons of Spinal Tap–level cheese, stacking guitars upon guitars and vocals upon vocals à la Queen for pyrotechnic-ready anthems like “The Handler” and “Reapers”. It is stupidly delightful, especially on “Psycho”, which makes use of a deliciously monstrous riff that the band has been jamming live for about a decade. Here, Bellamy caterwauls “Your ass belongs to me now!” over samples of a drill-sergeant rant. It is best not to listen too hard to the lyrics, which are full of political sloganeering emptier than most politicians’ heads.

The eponymous album closer is one of Muse’s most ridiculous tunes, and that’s saying something. “Killed by drones, my mother, my father, killed by drooones,” Bellamy croons in multiple vocal tracks, evoking the feel of beautiful Gregorian chant composed by a heretic nutjob. At least there will always be room for eccentrics in rock ’n’ roll.