Once again hella Vegas kids showed me this band like five years ago. The same kids that turned my girlfriend (at the time) into one of those weird emo chicks who wear glasses for no reason. She got sucked into the dark skintight emo underworld and the whole confusing and bizarre saga. A band that comes equipped with a fictional story - I guess if you're into that sort of thing it's quite a bonus. Some of us have to content ourselves with shitty little liner notes. C&C fans get a series of comic books that accompany their intergalactic antics.
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First off let's get this little bit of information out of the way. Coheed and Cambria are now on Columbia records. Yes it seems that the inevitable has finally happened; now they have nice crisp C-notes to spend on medieval, knotted string configurations, runes and pewter figurines. Anyway fuck people who are into the whole blaming every band for selling out. Let the music they make tell the story not how many decimal points they have on their checks. I can't remember if it was Ian Mackaye or one of the dudes from Against Me! that once said, "Selling out should really be when you stop making music." Yeah sure that's an interesting take on things but if making really good money is considered selling out then I definitely need to sell out because I'm one broke nigga.

You know what I love about this band? How everyone has the lamest excuses for not liking them. "I hate that dude's voice" or "They're ripping off Rush and I hate progressive rock." Well do they really sound like Rush? Does Cedric from Mars Volta really sound like Robert Plant? Who gives a flying fuck; you're only born with one voice. I also love when chicks scream "Coheed!" Fuck that trendy sounding shit. As far as lyrics go I honestly don't have the patience to study these complicated cosmic tales - they should offer three credits in all community colleges for anyone who takes the time to sort all this business out. I just like the music the band makes, and if that makes me a bad fan I'm prepared to live with that. And yes I am well aware that the band takes it's share of shit and I hate to sound like a fag but I was one of the dudes that were into this band when they weren't called "Coheed!" by huge, Jetta driving frat boys with shaved legs. I was one of the many bummed out people who had to kind of defend themselves when asked about the band. "Yeah dude I was into these guys way before 'Favor House Atlantic' was a radio hit and all those trendy newcomer whores are lame. Yeah dude." The only reason they ever heard the song in the first place is because they were waiting for the new Usher song to come on. Basically it's like this - radio hits taint the band's fan base with trendy ignorant douche bags. My hardcore punk purists mean well, and I like them - but a lot of the time I wish I could shoot them in the face with a magic bullet that would only kill them for a few minutes - and wipe away all their tattoos so they knew my science shit was real.

The main single "Welcome Home" has some of that Dream Theater operatic frenzy almost as hard as the gnarly guillotine on the cover art. The last song is called "The Final Cut," could this be some type of inspiration or nod of respect to that other proggish band we all know and love like flying pigs? Or is it merely the last track and named thusly? Also "Fuel For the Feeding End" is a straight up Rush tribute song complete with trippy voice effects. There is definitely something brewing in that song. "From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness" might inspire you to doodle sketchy looking comic book characters wielding laser beams and battle-axes. The last three songs are broken up separately for some reason; "The Willing Wheel" I think may be a type of chapter ending of sorts. This album is also a gorier, gothic and more Dark Ages sounding - rather than their former futuristic sci-fi approach on their other two albums (which just like this one are too long and ridiculous to spell out for you).

One thing that I have to bitch about on Apollo is how long the goddamn thing is. Holy shit 72 minutes!? First listen through I caught a little cat nap on the ending stretch; that was until I heard Claudio yell, "crush your face in the door." Even "Badass guitar dude" was all, "Damn that's some DMX shit." Of course there is some weak shit mixed in that I would highly suggest skipping. The worst one, "Wake Up." Three words describe it best: eeeemooo, bbbooring, and gay.

Sorry sport, better work the kinks out of that one. The band's tightness is still there. Despite hideous rumors Claudio does not have a frohawk, drummer Josh Eppard does not "break it down" with some dope raps, and sorry Flea does not play bass on this album. There is however guitar bend fever, cheerleader chants and even ends with some guitar masturbating.