in•ter a•li•a

Across 11 tracks In•ter a•li•a never loses focus and never takes the easy options, offering fractured anthems for fractured times. [6 May 2017, p.50]

in•ter a•li•a is the opposite of being phoned in.

Reinvigorated after a so-so initial comeback in 2012, and with their notorious fire burning once again, ‘in•ter a•li•a’ sees At The Drive In returning with an album that’s worthy of standing shoulder to shoulder alongside their revered back catalogue.

in•ter a•li•a isn’t about capturing a zeitgeist as much as it is about jumpstarting some urgency in a rock scene that desperately needs more wild abandon and psychic plasma.

In places the production lacks the spark that Ross Robinson brought to Relationship of Command, but nonetheless, Inter Alia is a blistering return to form.

Noticeably less refined than the aforementioned masterpiece, ‘Pendulum In A Peasant Dress’, ‘Tilting At The Univendor’ and ‘Torrentially Cutshaw’ are part of a breathlessly jagged, abrasive, unruly and punk as fuck whole.

At The Drive-In's astringent, scouring return doesn't feel so much like a blast from the past, as one aimed right at the heart of the present. [Jun 2017, p.108]

At the heart of Continuum and Incurably innocent are untamed pop melodies that writhe like snapped power-lines, while berserk closer Hostage Stamps is a glorious collision of Jane's Addiction, Minor Threat and Mahavishnu Orchestra. [Jun 2017, p.91]

in•ter a•li•a is frankly as promising an album as we can hope to expect from a group of guys who set the bar and then ran away from it 17 years back.

“No Wolf Like The Present” tips off the festivities with loads of frenetic energy, but it never leaves reality, and that goes for the rest of the album. Oddly enough, this restraint warrants some of the record’s finest moments, and when the Texas rockers aren’t twisting and distorting their music like a rubber band, they get lost in the ether.

In•ter a•li•a is a blistering return for the band; a record of thrilling paranoia, agitated by brutal, scissoring guitar riffs and slashing vocals.

Now older and wiser, they're much better prepared to nurture their blaze than before. All it needed was a little room to breathe.

If I hadn't heard ROC, this album would have probably gotten a half-star more, but as it stands it's just above decent.

For the most part, In•ter a•li•a is content to exist as a barrage--add ‘Call Broken Arrow’ to the ‘confirmed belter’ list--and almost never strays into more experimental territory as explored by The Mars Volta. There is one sort-of exception, however, in the form of ‘Ghost-Tape No. 9.’

While it might have played better in 2003, it's a welcome return regardless. [Jun 2017, p.23]

What makes that record sound so left-field is Cedric’s all over the place vocals and Ross Robinson’s infamously loud production.

They don’t stretch their formula, but there’s little need when their galvanic velocity is this purposeful.

In•ter A•li•a feels like a band trying to recapture the sound of their youth.

Inter Alia is a disappointing return to the saddle, expressed with awkward confidence and bravado by the band seemingly misremembering itself.

in•ter a•li•a is solid enough and more refined than its predecessor, but will nevertheless disappoint those attacking it through the lens of Relationship.

While in•ter a•li•a has plenty of motion and heat, it needs friction and resistance to light a spark.

The fan service can only go so far, though. With each successive spin, the LP’s post-reunion giddiness recedes, revealing the overarching déja vu as a crutch.

There is no time to make sense of preceding chaos, probably because there is nothing worth making sense of.

Most of the tracks’ narratives are undecipherable and consistently scatterbrained. Not to mention that the panoramic mixing of the guitars, while being a band trademark, make it difficult to focus on more than one aspect of a song at a time.

In•ter a•li•a instead sounds vapid and empty, like it's blowing hot air around the room; the band sound like a parody of themselves.