Thirteen years is a long time — maybe not in the bigger picture of human existence or from an existential standpoint, but for a gap in a widely influential band’s album-release schedule, it’s sizeable. For a little perspective on the matter, back when Tool released its previous album, 10,000 Days, George W. Bush was still president, Twitter had yet to exist, and current pop sensation Billie Eilish was only five years old. A studio hiatus of that length would mean certain career-suicide for most bands, but Tool is not most bands. In fact, during that wait as the months and years went by, Tool’s rabid fan base only became more fixated and interested in the group’s happenings. Speculation turned into rumors, rumors into viral headlines, viral headlines into false leads, false leads into dead ends, and back to the beginning of the spiral cycle. But suddenly, the frenzy broke, and on August 30, 2019, it happened. Tool released its fifth studio album, Fear Inoculum. Boasting ten tracks with four interludes on the full edition, and all of the main songs exceeding ten minutes, the album has been received as a masterpiece by fans and critics alike. The first thing listeners hear when they cue up the opening title track are the brooding and ominous guitar sweeps of Adam Jones, met with the tribal percussion of drummer Danny Carey. As the intro starts to build steam, we’re greeted at the 1:37 mark with a sound that is so specific and familiar, it can be nothing other than the bass of Justin Chancellor: his Wal 4-string soaked heavily in delay and flanger, his picking cutting to the front of the mix, and his intricate lines locking in with Carey’s drums in a mesmerizing fashion. This is what we’ve been waiting for. The album is everything a Tool fan hoped it would be, as each song patiently rises and peaks with crescendo after crescendo, led by the beautifully haunting vocals of Maynard James Keenan. While all four members play a crucial role in every moment of the record, Chancellor commands a large chunk of aural force, serving as key propulsion to myriad odd time signatures, abrupt changes, and disorienting cadences. His chordal work on “Pnuema” dances around a repetitive figure of seven, which serves as a reoccurring theme as far as time signatures go. His plucking fortitude on “Invincible” barrages the verses and choruses until the all-out riff assault that takes over with Jones’ precise and speedy strum work, reminiscent of his playing on 10,000 Days’ “Jambi.” The powerhouse track is undoubtedly “7empest,” an almost 16-minute movement that alternates between the extremes of rancor and serenity, with a long solo section written by Chancellor that he prefers to count in 21. For Chancellor, Inoculum etches another notch on his progression as a bass player. Fluidly jumping from complex picking to beastly strumming within phrases, he pulls off wild moments throughout the record, while still serving as the foundation of