Despite there being an incredible amount of releases coming from Omar Rodriguez-Lopez this year already, Octahedron was always going to be the main event. The Mars Volta's fifth album was said to be a departure from earlier works, particularly the manic jazz-rock of predecessor The Bedlam In Goliath. Words like “quieter” and “more accessible” were bandied about in the run-up to release date, but now that it's here, how does Octahedron measure up? Well, the album certainly is for the most part a more controlled, considered release. A good chunk of Octahedron is low-key, restrained fare, opener Since We've Been Wrong laying out the band's new mission statement with acoustic guitar lines and a drum performance from Thomas Pridgen far more thought-out than the free-form attack of The Bedlam In Goliath. Fans of the band at their most frenetic should still be able to extract something from Octahedron, however, as Cotopaxi, and to an extent Teflon are as intense as anything the band have put their name to. More accessible? That's a very different matter, as to the long time fan Octahedron is an obtuse and at times bewildering release. There are no jams, no jazz influences (saxophonist Adrian Gonzalez being jettisoned from the line-up, along with sound manipulator and old At The Drive-In comrade Paul Hinojos). Even Cedric Bixler's lyrics sound near-lucid at times. Songs like Copernicus and Luciforms are all about atmosphere rather than instant gratification. Octahedron may be a better starting point for a newcomer, but for this particular reviewer the first view listens were a difficult slog, despite enjoying the likes of Televators and Asilos Magdalena. Since We've Been Wrong and Teflon were as immediately engaging as anything else the band had put out, but the rest, save for obvious single Cotopaxi seemed like hard work.

But after a few listens, Octahedron opens itself up, and I'll be damned if there isn't some amazing material here. Since We've Been Wrong is perhaps the best ballad the band have ever done, although I slightly prefer the original stripped-down version the band played live. The brooding Teflon boasts an absolute stormer of a chorus, and the rhythm section are locked in as tight as they've ever been after a slightly disconnected performance on The Bedlam In Goliath. It's almost as if the band's self-imposed restrictions (no tailing off into extended jam sessions) have encouraged them to work on the foundations of their sound. Octahedron feels like nothing less than a riposte to the band's critics, proving that they can write a concise (for them, anyway) jam-free release. Cedric's vocals, while just as powerful as before, are no longer the barrage of falsetto shrieks and yels that send lesser men running for the hills. Rodriguez' barely breaks into atonal free-jazz soloing here, and bassist Juan Alderete is in his element, being allowed to concentrate solely on groove rather than keeping up with Rodriguez' orchestrated chaos. Octahedron may have alienated some die-hard fans, if reports online are anything to go by, but then The Mars Volta have always been a band who have done things solely for themselves. It's not the best thing they've done, it plays it a bit too safe at times, but Octahedron still feels like an necessary step in the evolution of the band. If they can combine the songwriting chops they've built up with this release with the energy and bravery (although Octahedron is a brave move in its' own right, I suppose) of previous works, then their next album could be the straight-up bona fide classic they've always come so tantalizingly close to. I fear history may skip over Octahedron when evaluating The Mars Volta's work. And that'd be a great shame, because although it's not really as good as anything they've done previously, that still gives it a great deal of room to be a great album in its' own right.