Absolution

On 2001’s Origin of Symmetry, Muse established themselves as one of the world’s most forward-thinking and ambitious rock bands. On this follow-up, the trio set out to be one of its biggest. Absolution was the record that sent Matt Bellamy, Chris Wolstenholme, and Dom Howard’s band supernova. This was Muse perfecting the art of the spectacular, a record of skyscraping ambition that pushed the limits for what rock music could be, the sound of an epic musical vision executed to perfection. Muse had had their first taste of headlining arenas on the tour to support Origin of Symmetry, a natural stage for such an explosive, grandiose band, and everything about Absolution felt precision-tooled to make it the norm. Here, heavy rock riffs, powerhouse rhythmics, epic balladry, electronic prog, anthemic pop hooks, and classical interludes all met in perfect, dystopic harmony. But Absolution was an album made in a period of unease, both within the group and for the world at large. A legal battle with their former management and production company only seemed to refine the band’s focus on their music, while watching rolling news of the Iraq War seeped into the album’s lyrical themes. On Origin…, Bellamy pondered the universe and beyond but here his concerns were closer to home, peering into the rabbit hole and emerging with songs about global power structures, conspiracy theories, secret societies, and the small matter of the end of days. They found a sound fit to match the subject, producer Rich Costey helping Muse to craft an intricately layered, dynamic rock record that blurred the line between old-school virtuoso playing and digital massaging. The monumental thump that begins opener “Apocalypse Please” could not have set the tone any better, a song about the end of the world armed with a big bang to match the one that started it. From there, Absolution was a record that strapped you in front and center, lurching into Queen-style euphoria (“Time Is Running Out,” “Hysteria,” “Butterflies & Hurricanes”), furious riffing (“Stockholm Syndrome”), and the odd swoop into airy orchestral histrionics (“Blackout” and “Butterflies & Hurricanes,” again). It was the sound of a band asking themselves if they were going too far and then going further. Released in September 2003, Absolution made Muse massive. It went on to sell over three and a half million copies. Playing arenas was no longer a one-off, it was the standard. Of course, they wouldn’t stop there. Bringing big ideas to fruition only ever made Muse think bigger. This was the record that proved they belonged at the very top.