It's really Keenan's vocals in this song that shine more than anything, with the rest of the band seeming to play more of a backseat to his passages than anything else. It sounds rather simplistic, and to be honest, drab the first few times through, but any Tool fan will tell you that their work needs more than a handful of listens to be fully appreciated. "Jambi" is 7+ minutes of what, in large part, is simply an off-rhythm, single guitar note intermixed with some hypnotic bass licks by Chancellor. It's a killer ending that leaves off excellently for the next track. The song then comes to a rapid, hectic ending with trios of quick hammer-on triplets coming from Jones and more double bass/floor tom work by Carey. "Vicariously I live while the whole world dies/Much better you than I". At about 4:05 into the track, the band breaks down into a chugging, offbeat riff with Keenan's harsh lyrics creeping up quickly in reverse as he spouts them out, coming to a sarcastic change when he begins to "sing to the death rattle/La la la la la la la lie." As the song winds down a bit into some skillful floor tom work by Carey, it's evident that this is simply the calm before the storm, as the chorus comes back its most intense for the last time. Its mesmerizing intro is quickly cut short and the band kicks into a groove that backs Keenan's vocal lashings of television and our fascination with watching tragedy "from good, safe distance.". It's immediately evident that this song could have fit somewhere within the Lateralus track listing, beginning with disjointed harmonizing by Jones and Chancellor. The album kicks off with "Vicarious," the first single off the album. But Tool is not like any other band, as evidenced even when they aren't perfect. Rather, 10,000 Days feels like a really good collection of songs that Tool has put together over the past year or two, much like any other band would. In fact, it's a great collection of Tool tracks, it's just hard to call it a great Tool album when you have to compare it to the likes of ¿nima, Lateralus and even Undertow, albums that flow with an extremely cohesive feeling of purpose. That's not to say that this is a bad album by any stretch of the word. This is somewhat appropriate given the album's stereoscopic artwork, but we'll hit on its unique and sweet packaging at the end of the review. It's an album that feels a tad disjointed, more like a photo book rather than a large, continuous mural. It's a bit unfair to judge this album directly against their previous work, but when you're talking about Tool, one of the most respected and acclaimed metal bands of the past 20 years, it's almost impossible not to. Granted, quite a few songs on the album are rather outstanding, at least in sections, but most tracks fail to live up to many of the takes on the band's previous few efforts. But while the band has never played better, it's hard not to argue that they've written better. And vocalist Maynard James Keenan, well, let's just say that Maynard has never shown so much range. Guitarist Adam Jones again mixes calm, almost hesitant and shy clean sections with ripping and scraping chorus and rhythm work. Complimenting him in every way possible is Justin Chancellor on bass, once again ripping out hopping, rhythmic and trance-inducing bass lines that go even beyond his phenomenal work on Lateralus at times. While he was maybe a tad more prevalent on 2001's Lateralus, Carey continues to dive on floor toms with almost reckless (but perfectly refined) abandon, pound the bass drum in offbeat tempos and ride the hi-hat in otherworldly, complex patterns. Drummer Danny Carey has gotten better with every record, and his work here is no exception. Instrumentally, the band really has never been better.
Every new listen connects a few more pieces, but it'll take a while before the whole thing comes together. For starters, being that it's the band's first release in five years, it's almost impossible to guess where the album is going to take you, and listening to it for the first time is like trying to solve a jigsaw without seeing the photo on the box. 10,000 Days is, like every past Tool release, a rather hard album to digest.