In theory, there's nothing not to like about these guys. They convinced a major label to back two consecutive uncompromising, meandering, bilingual concept behemoths. Better still, neither dream-state diary De-Loused in the Comatorium nor the perhaps even more ambitious and morbid Frances is an unlistenable, self-indulgent monstrosity. In fact, every five to ten minutes of space noodling actually leads to something pretty kick-ass, whether your taste runs to salsa god Larry Harlow (who contributes piano and clavinet), prog gods Yes, or emo-core gods, um, Sparta. There's a multilevel narrative depth in Frances unmatched by most bands' entire catalogs. In this case, a journal found by the Volta's former sound manipulator, Jeremy Ward (a suicide casualty), inspired co-founders Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Cedric Bixler-Zavala to conjure an HIV-positive male prostitute protagonist out to avenge his mother's rape... or something. Trust me, go to any fan site forum-there's a lot of "or something" here. For Christ's sake, they're putting out a "decoder" single on vinyl, which will likely (intentionally?) create more fog than it clears. So, yes, in theory, there's nothing not to like about the Volta and their gorgeously pretentious envelope pushing. In execution? Depends on how much free time you have.