The few bits of press I can recall proclaimed Mas Optica as “acoustic metal” – which sounded intriguing enough (even though acoustic guitars are really nothing unusual in metal).
So, I had imagined that the album must be entirely acoustic guitars…yet heavy…with no distortion and no effects, right? Not exactly.
What you do get is plenty of acoustic stuff with noodling lead parts and the sparkly tones of steel string flourishes, but – perhaps to the band’s credit – the song structures are diverse and varied enough to include more traditional “crunchy” electric guitar work. The album covers a lot of territory and is quite memorable as their debut (and…um…as their only album).
I’d even go as far as describing Mas Optica as a more “jovial” Last Crack, with some hints of Naked Sun or even Mind Over Four. Ambitious, reaching vocals and a very “mid 90s” vibe make this out of print rarity a long time Culture Of None favourite.
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Good sir, i believe you neglected to mention that Mas Optica hails from the Milwaukee area (specifically West Allis, i think). In fact, a friend of mine claims to have known briefly the “main guy” (singer? songwriter?) in the band. . .and sadly, refuses to even listen to the album because of said guy’s arrogance and pomposity. Obviously, aesthetes such as ourselves do not allow trifling details akin to artist’s ego or insanity or criminal history to prevent our enjoyment of music that truly merits it.
After all, i’ve heard horrible things about Roger Waters’ personality, but being that i can listen to all of his music without ever actually trying to fit into a room with his ego, it’s as moot as a point can be.
Let us also consider the beer-breathing lout — at least once reported to have scowled at an admiring fan — that the brilliant lyricist Brent Oberlin was revealed as once an admiring fan actually met him at a show. I hear he’s entered the state of matrimony since the distant mid-90s, which gives me cause to believe that he is a more balanced and, one might dare venture, “happy” individual these days. Heaven knows we’ve lost more than a few great artists of all stripes to depression and angst, whether by suicide, absinthe, cocaine, or drugs of prescriptione.
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