Muse: Will of the People review – powerful angst undermined by bombast | Muse

Muse’s Matt Bellamy has been writing songs about a dystopian near-future for years, so it seemed strange when, well into the age of Trump and Brexit, he reined in his lyrical excesses for 2018’s Simulation Theory. He has rediscovered his paranoid mojo for the band’s ninth album – and how… Will of the People confronts variously the rise of populism and dictatorships (the title track), wildfires, earthquakes, Covid and, well, everything (We Are Fucking Fucked, presciently written before Liz Truss declared her candidacy for the Tory party leadership). Muse’s angst isn’t confined to state-of-the-world addresses either: the personal misery of an abusive relationship is dissected on You Make Me Feel Like It’s Halloween. One way or another, a sense of dread permeates almost every song.

Unfortunately, the message is diluted by the inevitably OTT hysteria of the delivery, the trio’s arrangements frequently overwhelming Bellamy’s words in a blizzard of musical gymnastics. There are echoes of Queen at their most overblown throughout, most notably on Liberation, along with the band’s usual cross-pollination of genres – metal on Kill or Be Killed; danceable synthpop on Compliance; U2-like stadium rock on Verona; stomping glam on the title track – with bombast the sole constant. It’s all consistently inventive rather than dull, but also endearingly daft rather than chilling. Still, that makes for Muse’s most enjoyable album since the 00s.

Muse’s Matt Bellamy has been writing songs about a dystopian near-future for years, so it seemed strange when, well into the age of Trump and Brexit, he reined in his lyrical excesses for 2018’s Simulation Theory. He has rediscovered his paranoid mojo for the band’s ninth album – and how… Will of the People confronts variously the rise of populism and dictatorships (the title track), wildfires, earthquakes, Covid and, well, everything (We Are Fucking Fucked, presciently written before Liz Truss declared her candidacy for the Tory party leadership). Muse’s angst isn’t confined to state-of-the-world addresses either: the personal misery of an abusive relationship is dissected on You Make Me Feel Like It’s Halloween. One way or another, a sense of dread permeates almost every song.

Unfortunately, the message is diluted by the inevitably OTT hysteria of the delivery, the trio’s arrangements frequently overwhelming Bellamy’s words in a blizzard of musical gymnastics. There are echoes of Queen at their most overblown throughout, most notably on Liberation, along with the band’s usual cross-pollination of genres – metal on Kill or Be Killed; danceable synthpop on Compliance; U2-like stadium rock on Verona; stomping glam on the title track – with bombast the sole constant. It’s all consistently inventive rather than dull, but also endearingly daft rather than chilling. Still, that makes for Muse’s most enjoyable album since the 00s.