Tomahawk ‘Tonic Immobility’ Review: Mike Patton and co. battle pandemic fatigue on 4th studio album.
Not even the pandemic can slow Mike Patton down. Ever the busybody, he released new material from both tētēma and a reunited Mr. Bungle in 2020, and his latest release is Tonic Immobility, the 5th album from alt-metal super group Tomahawk (March 26, Ipecac Records).
Guitarist Duane Denison elaborated on the album title and vibe in the group’s press release, saying Tonic Immobility could just be something in the air we’re feeling. It’s been a rough year between the Pandemic and everything else. A lot of people feel somewhat powerless and stuck as they’re not able to make a move without second guessing themselves or worrying about the outcomes. For as much as the record possibly reflects that, it’s also an escape from the realities of the world. We’re not wallowing in negativity or getting political. For me, rock has always been an alternate reality to everything else. I feel like this is yet another example. And the finished product bears out his declaration.
Opener SHHH! seems to split the difference between escapism and reality, starting with a suspenseful cinematic opening before leaping into lurching metal and Patton commanding the listener to spill your secrets!
Valentine Shine is a thumping banger, full of angular guitar riffs and Patton’s lyrics mocking Instagram posturing and our descent into narcissism, alternating from a sullen stomping verse to a hardcore fueled chorus.
Predators and Scavengers recalls Mr. Bungle’s sophomore classic Disco Volante, with a staccato spy guitar riff and Patton’s jazzy vocal styling, bouncing across the staggered sonic landscape like a beach ball, while Doomsday Fatigue, comes across like a cocktail jazz re-imagining of Pantera’s This Love, with the frontman lamenting our addiction with doomscrolling.
Business Casual brings the attitude with Trevor Dunn’s subterranean bass, John Stanier’s whipcrack drums ansd chunky guitar, with lyrics including a wonderful rhyme with bad cholesterol and business casual, while Tattoo Zero veers from moody understated verse to a thrashing chorus featuring classic Patton bonmots like Watching them honeys twerk/while all the hobos jerk.
Fatback channels Angel Dust-era Faith No More, full of menace and groove, while the piano driven Sidewinder sounds like an unholy hybrid of Kanye West’s Let’s Hear it For The Douchebags before lurching into full frontal rock, while Recoil’s richocheting guitar and bass brings some surly funk to the proceedings.
Finally, the album closes with Dog Eat Dog, a crunchy anthem ending with the declaration: We are Tomahawk and we approve this message.
Likewise, this reviewer approves their message as well. Tonic Immobility is a sonic snapshot of our fractious present, while also allowing for stratospheric escape, making it a true tonic for our anxious times.
