Coheed & Cambria - No World for Tomorrow - Music & Performance - CD

Considering the historic overlaps between comic books, science fiction and prog-rock (good luck telling those three fanbases apart), Coheed and Cambria's massive multi-part concept piece, The Amory Wars, is really just a case of being efficient -- a way for jargon wonks to get all their entertainment nutrition in one spot. There would be little point in going into all the details, even if we could keep them straight. Just know that the upstate New York quartet, which formed in 2001, conceives its albums around a very complicated intergalactic comic written by frontman Claudio Sanchez: crazy diseases and made-up planets and all that.

The good news is that there's a lot of pleasure to be had in the group's music, regardless of your interest in the convoluted plotlines. The cult following is there, but membership is not a prerequisite. And on new album -- or, more accurately, new installment -- No World for Tomorrow, C & C continue to make the case for themselves as heirs to the Rush throne.

For starters, there's Sanchez' soaring tenor, which leaves one thinking of Steven Malkmus' famous query, "What about the voice of Geddy Lee/ How did it get so high?" Sanchez occupies a range nearly as far north as the Rush songman's. But importantly, he's not willing to just unhook the reins and head for aria territory. On "Justice In Murder," a true descendant of the Canadian group's best stuff, he couches it in searing riff loops and pumping chords. And on "The Hound (Of Blood And Rank)," the high-altitude lyrics mesh powerfully with heavily muscled guitar, bass and kit.

The kit part is good news. In the time since last album From Fear Through The Eyes Of Madness, the group lost drummer Josh Eppard, which, as any fan of Neil Peart could tell you, is no small thing in this genre. The Foo Fighters' Taylor Hawkins turns in a solid if unspectacular substitute performance (Chris Pennie will mind the skins on upcoming records).

The best tracks on Tomorrow are those that see the group mesh that traditional prog style with the emo whose era they toil in. After all, their young fans are as likely to be listening to Fall Out Boy as King Crimson, and Sanchez' project has found significant common ground between these. On "The Running Free," the guitars' style of chugging has the sinister bent of the '00s, a subtle but essential distinction. And yet, "Free" is also Claudio at his most Geddy. To top it off, the strong, hook-laden chorus is straight out of arena-punk. It takes both charismatic performance and insightful arrangement to make this reasonable. Coheed and Cambria continue to have both.

By Jake Blaine