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Muse absolution album11/3/2023 The song's vocal range spans from G 3 to A 4. "Sing for Absolution" is composed in the key of D minor, and moves at a slow tempo of 86 bpm. A live acoustic version of the song serves as a B-side for the " Butterflies and Hurricanes" single. The song also appears on the Absolution Tour DVD. It was released in May 2004 as the fourth single from that album, peaking at number 16 in the UK Singles Chart. And I also feel sick." Sing for Absolution" is a song by English rock band Muse, serving as the title track for their third studio album, Absolution. That, more or less, is the feeling I have now. ![]() Deep down, there will always be that bitter disappointment when contemplating what could have been a fantastic reunion, and all that remains is an awkward reminder of how young and naive you both used to be. Hearing it again is like meeting with a friend after years of distance, only to realize you took completely different paths and pursued completely different interests in the meantime. But listening to Absolution again was eye-opening (or ear-opening) for all the wrong reasons. None of this is pleasurable at all to write, as it definitely hurts removing rose-colored glasses to see how gutting reality can be. This is musical Attention Deficit Disorder disguised as variation. The diversity is more scattershot than complementary, and having Matt Bellamy doing his irritating “operatic” wailing over every different genre doesn’t help matters. But it plays out like a smorgasbord of musical stylings that never comes together in a meaningful fashion. We get everything from alternative metal (“Hysteria,” “Stockholm Syndrome”), to symphonic rock (“Butterflies and Hurricanes,” “Blackout”) to even some slices of melodic punk (“Thoughts of a Dying Atheist,” “The Small Print”). There’s diversity here I’ll give the band that. But taken holistically, it all falls apart very quickly. “Hysteria” is still a beautifully uplifting alternative rock classic, and the pulse-pounding heavy metal riffage of “Stockholm Syndrome” can still bring the chills. The worst thing about all this is that, with a handful of experiences here, I can still sense how much effort and passion were thrown in. Adapting influences from Sergei Rachmaninoff into rock music may be cool on a superficial level, but not when it creates a disjointed and disorganized piece of work. Even a lot of the more uptempo pieces feel a bit lifeless today, and tricks that seemed so impressive to my teenage mind - particularly the piano solo in “Butterflies and Hurricanes” - seem more gimmicky than beneficial to the music now. I can’t get through “Falling Away with You,” with its blend of overly melodramatic croons and repetitive melodies, and the horrendously overblown piano theatrics of “Apocalypse Please” become a chore to endure for even the mere four minutes of its runtime. The same things that once distinguished Absolution as a modern classic have now somehow worked against it, to the point that many of its tracks are practically unlistenable now. What seemed like a modern-day rock opera of progressive rock grandeur and propulsive flights of metal fancy has now devolved into something that is simply a dull homogeneous slog. What seemed so beautifully elaborate and intricate now sounds derivative and dated. What once seemed thought-provoking now reeks of a horrible sense of pomp and self-importance that puts their sincerity in question. Much like Muse’s relevance, the quality of their peak era has seemed to decay with every passing year. They had a charismatic frontman who was proficient in countless different musical fields.īut, again, the passage of time can be cruel. ![]() They incorporated beautiful classical flourishes in their energetic brand of alternative rock. ![]() They sang thoughtfully about revolution and social/political corruption. The pedestal that shouldered this old giant has since become dusty, long abandoned as newer acts have built their own pantheon from scratch, but it wasn’t supposed to be this way. It’s sickening, because I can still recite every fucking word of something that I can’t connect to anymore. It’s sickening, but only because of how brilliant and addicting the original experience was at one point. The passage of time has become a cruel sadist, strangling me with the fretboard of my own guitar as I hear the pieces I practiced so diligently in my adolescence. I feel like I’m being gutted with every word I write, because I’m tearing so deeply into a piece of my own upbringing.
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