30 Seconds to Mars: This Is War

Heather Graham, Steven Seagal, Bruce Willis, Russell Crowe, Jennifer Lopez, David Hasslehoff, Jennifer Love Hewett. All names which lie moss-covered in the graveyard of abortive attempts for actors to turn musician.

We won't even go into William Shatner, let's just say he has an appropriate surname.

The general formula seems to be, the bigger the star, the worse the crossover. These people at the top of the acting game are likely convinced they possess the very talent of the gods and will imbue all artistic endeavours with the Midas touch. Then at the other end of the spectrum we have those Thespians of smaller fame who simply have an Omnislash of artistic talents.

With an acting C.V which includes practically every indie-cool film of the last fifteen years (American Psycho, Fight Club, Requiem For a Dream, The Thin Red Line, Girl Interrupted) and yet nowhere near a household name, Jared Leto, front-man of 30 Seconds To Mars is certainly erring towards the latter column, which is fortunate, because 30StM are so ridiculously good.

They are the band that Tom DeLonge thinks Angels & Airwaves sound like to the rest of us. Spiralling, extraordinarily epic electro-tinged rock which rarely has its feet on the ground yet always manages to captivate.

On This Is War, there is barely a weak volley in the arsenal. Perhaps the folly of over-indulgence could be levied given its predilection for high-school choirs, chanting monks, French spoken-word sections and six-thousand channels of sound, but this is exactly what makes the album so inherently loveable. It doesn't pretend to walk amongst mere mortals, it's not one of us, yet it is all of us. Balderdash, now we're doing the Tom DeLonge-speak.

A stiffening breeze introduces the title track with intensifying chants hidden in the swell and the break. Out of nowhere a grenade explodes, setting off a prodigious chorus ("To the right / To the left we will fight to the death / To the Edge of the Earth / It's a Brave New World / From the last to the first") before falling back into a breakdown which feels like nothing short of a chariot race in the midst of the Colosseum. J. Leto's vocals are unmatched in the rock arena, possessing that annoying ability to hit every note perfectly whether it be a quiet whisper or a surging scream.

Even without the benefit of the tried-and-tested rock quiet/loud template, the results are compelling. "Stranger in a Strange Land" (hopefully not named for the worst LOST episode of all time) explores the subdued realms of electro-dub with synth-echoes and a minimalist drum-line taking the song through until the beats explode around it and force a measured retreat from the vocals. Okay, technically still a quiet/loud moment, but a different kind of one certainly.

A perfect mix of bombast and reserve is displayed throughout the tracks, never drowning in its stratospheric ambition and never wallowing in stripped-down experimentalism, the album is a finely-tuned rock machine, knowing exactly what you want and when you need it to sustain the excitement levels.

For those with access to a telephone, you may want to call Mr. DeLonge on 555-777-8686 and inform him that he may as well pack up his Jesus-cape and retire, for he has been superseded in every way possible.