Like the supermassive black holes they once sang about, Muse have long been collapsing under the weight of their own gravitational pull. Music historians often debate the timeline of this decline; while the band was always defined by pomp and ceremony, their best work was anchored by a poise that suggested a steady hand at the helm. By the time of 2009’s The Resistance, however, the trio doubled down on the philosophy that more is always more, dabbling in EDM, chasing trends like NFTs, and churning out concept albums centered on everything from ecological collapse to authoritarian control.
Now, following one of the most critically maligned albums of the decade, the Muse mothership has returned. The Wow! Signal, named after the mysterious 1977 radio frequency, is framed as a return to form. Lead singer Matt Bellamy has spent the press cycle disparaging the band’s recent output and promising a back-to-basics approach. Yet, because this is Muse, the band’s instinct is to go larger on all fronts, heading back to the stars for their 10th studio effort.
The Muse Paradox
The album’s opener, “The Dark Forest,” perfectly encapsulates the band’s current identity crisis. Featuring the Crouch End Festival Chorus and the London Metropolitan Orchestra, the track attempts to act as a sequel to 2006’s “Knights of Cydonia.” It cycles through Queen-esque theatrics, Van Halen-inspired guitar work, and Latin choral arrangements without ever landing on a coherent melody. While Bellamy has historically succeeded at such genre-mashing—the Prince-meets-Morello blend of “Supermassive Black Hole” remains a high-water mark—the phases of “The Dark Forest” feel disjointed and hollow.
The Wow! Signal is ultimately defined by what can only be called the Muse Paradox: the music is too sincere to be enjoyed as camp, yet too obnoxious to be taken seriously. Tracks like “Nightshift Superstar” suffer from a flat, uninspired delivery that suffocates under the weight of its own forced funkiness. Even when Bellamy attempts vulnerability on “Shimmering Scars,” the emotional impact is undercut by a vocal performance that feels overly processed and performative.
A Search for Subtlety
The frustration of this record lies in the missed potential. There are brief, tantalizing glimpses of what could happen if the band committed to a single register. The goth-djent textures of “The Sickness In You & I” and “Unravelling” offer a sense of fun, while “Space Debris” serves as a genuinely effective, if slightly buried, ballad about a failed relationship. Had the production—handled by Dan Lancaster—allowed for more breathing room, these moments might have resonated more deeply.
Ultimately, Muse’s attempt to capture the mystery of the cosmos falls short because they mistake volume for depth. As they continue to try and fill the infinite expanse of the universe with sonic clutter, one can’t help but wish they would embrace the quiet, mournful simplicity that once made their music truly bewitching.