Omar Lopez and Cedric Bixler constantly reap the benefits of their At The Drive-In days. Even the 2003 debut, an experimental masterpiece, profited from the kneejerk reaction to recall the past.

But what that debut had and this follow-up lacks is a rallying point the experimentation can spiral from. Without underlining direction, we are left searching for coherent songs, but instead find an amalgamation of defined rock ’n’ roll and self-indulgent, pompous dribble.

At times, it’s blazing guitars and impassioned vocals that ring out like a sweat-fueled ode to the cerebrum. At others, it’s a dizzying tryst of background noise, horn solos, animal sounds and silence – sometimes both in the same song.

Like the track “Facilis Descenus Averni,” one of the album’s many 12-minute songs, which follows a grooving guitar lead with a Tom Waits-esque break.

Bands such as Radiohead use stop-on-a-dime changes and grandiose moments to blanket us with dense layers, but “Mute” is never interesting enough to get close to and become awed or overwhelmed.

The odd progression is annoying, not daring. Even the great moments find us waiting for the out-of-place ball to drop.

And this dichotomy is both its genius and its biggest fault.