Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 7/10

You should never blame a set of artists for wanting to change direction in how their work is viewed, everything must adapt, all must be like the waves, the tide and the shifting sands, secrets must reveal themselves, unknown coves must explored, and yet the audience must also understand that in the pursuit of change, of natural revolution, the distinction between the admiration of what lay before and the possible intrigue of what lays ahead can reveal a chasm, an almost unbridgeable divide -it is only a theory, but one that can cause problems down the line when the artist turns their head back to what went before.

It happens more often that we might like to admit, after all an artist should not be constrained by what others want them to do, and yet like Queen before them when they recorded Hot Space, Muse have taken a turn away from the sense of the epic and undisputable realm of Progressive anger and instead taken on the challenge of lighter pop/electronica that overflows in the band’s eighth studio album, Simulation Theory.

Whilst not in the same league as Hot Space as a complete departure from what is expected of a band such as Muse, it somehow still finds a way to acknowledge the flatness of expression, a simulation indeed, there is no soaring highs and demonstrations of what makes Muse the absolute dream of a band that they have become over the last 20 years, instead Simulation Theory is perhaps best summed up as nice, as pleasant, background music that doesn’t involve intense and prolonged discussion.

There are moments in which the album touches upon the evergreen lustre of previous albums, however, aside from Thought Contagion, The Dark Side and the urgency of Algorithm, the siren in which they have sought is watered down, friendly, but abandoning perhaps too soon the overtures and sweeping pronouncements which made their previous albums, such as Black Holes and Revelations, The Resistance and Drones effectively superior.

Nice doesn’t always win friends, it sits in the corner and frets about what it could have been if it possessed muscle and disregard for all that stands in its way, Simulation Theory is niceness personified. It is a joyful anecdote in which to have around for a while, but it unfortunately doesn’t thrill with tales of adventure and glory. Art is always an imitation of life, in this latest venture the reproduction is polished, but still hazy.

Ian D. Hall