Muse have never been ones to shy away from the extravagant, so it should come as no surprise to learn that The Resistance – the band’s fifth studio album, released 10 years after their first – looks at the most overblown concepts ever committed to record by a contemporary rock group. Then multiplies it by 10.

The pièce de résistance (and never has that phrase been used as literally as here) is the glorious three-part symphony Exogenesis, which apparently has been a work in progress for singer Matt Bellamy for as far back as he can remember. Indeed, it seems as if the band’s career has been slowly building up to The Resistance’s glorious 13 minute finale, spread out over three pieces – Overture, Cross-Pollination, and Redemption. But Exogenesis deserves more than just a fleeting mention, and we’ll come to that in due course.

Given the nature of the album’s epic finale, it probably wouldn’t come as a surprise if the album’s preceding nine songs had been somewhat forgotten about. This isn’t the case though, and from the galloping opener Uprising it’s clear that this is classic Muse – harking back to their earlier, heavier, days without losing any of their pop credentials. Its been a criticism among fans that the previous effort – 2006′s Black Holes And Revelations – was one of the band’s weakest efforts, aiming too much for the mainstream than the likes of Showbiz and Origin Of Symmetry, which were characterised by fuzzy solos and dominant basslines.

The Resistance sets its sights much more on combining those previous elements than trying to do something too different. The title track could quite easily slot alongside Map Of The Problematique or Hullabaloo b-side Gallery in the haunting-piano stakes, but then suddenly grabs Queen by the balls and launches into a powerful chorus, with the band on fine harmonic form. It’s like 1984 The Soundtrack, as Bellamy cries out “you’ll wake the Thought Police” before the brilliant choral breakdown of “love is our resistance / they’ll keep us apart and they won’t stop breaking us down / hold me / our lips must always be sealed”.

The Timbaland-inspired Undisclosed Desires picks up where Supermassive Black Hole left off, as Bellamy drops his guitar in favour of a keytar, and bassist Chris Wolstenholme crosses the bridge into slap-bass territory for one of the album’s funkiest numbers. We’re then treated to United States Of Eurasia which was available to freely download at the beginning of August via the band’s website. There’s no surprises here, and the outro (titled Collateral Damage and based on Nocturne In E-Flat Major, Op.9 No.2 by Chopin) slows things down beautifully. A rocket soars into life in the background, before coming close and leading us directly into Guiding Light.

This seamless transition is interrupted by a marching drum beat, and Muse trying to be inspirational. Guiding Light is perhaps the album’s weakest track, and the only time the band are stuck at half pace. Luckily this lull doesn’t last long as Unnatural Selection (possibly the best thing they’ve ever done) appears and enthrals the listener for a solid seven minutes. Similar in style to Citizen Erased, the song rises and falls several times – beginning with an organ before entering into one of the album’s greatest riffs before the first minute has elapsed.

If you’re wondering, the reason it’s only one of the album’s greatest riffs is because of MK Ultra. A track which could slot in seamlessly alongside any of Absolution’s output (their finest hour, in my humble opinion), it’s dramatic, heavy and represents a serious effort to write a serious song. Which leads us nicely into I Belong To You (+Mon Cœur S’ouvre À Ta Voix), which the band themselves admitted to not believing they could get away with. It’s The Resistance’s finest pop moment, all Maroon 5 piano and containing an unbelievable French breakdown halfway through – after which they carry on in a manner which suggests this kind of thing happens all the time. Some of the lyrics, not just with I Belong To You but consistently throughout the album, remain questionable. Lines such as “and she attacks me like a leo / when my heart is split like Rio” are quite common, meaning it lacks depth in places. Bizarrely they do work quite well, perhaps due to the fact that the album itself is a complete mishmash of styles that can never quite decide what it wants to do.

And that’s the problem. In self-producing their own album Muse have pretty much dabbled in stream-of-consciousness recording: you get the idea that every single idea they’ve had in the past three years has made it into the first eight tracks, often at the same time. Its brilliance is its downfall. The whole album won’t be for everyone, but there’s something in it for everyone. Including classical music fans.

Yes, it’s time to talk about Exogenesis – that luscious three-part symphony that hangs over The Resistance from the very first chords of Uprising. It would probably come as no surprise if Muse didn’t release another album, such is the feeling that this is what their whole career has been building up towards. Part one, Overture, sets the scene gallantly and gradually takes the album from the face of the Earth and casts it to the skies. It evokes images of the video for Sing For Absolution – and works brilliantly as an introductory piece.

Where Overture ends, Cross-Pollination begins – picking up where Butterflies & Hurricanes left off. “Breach the outer sphere / the edge of all our fears / rest with you / we are counting on you / it’s up to you” is the original message, before Muse go all Queen once more and Bellamy tells us to “spread our cause to the stars / you must rescue us now” while doing his best Brian May impression on the guitar. It’s shortlived, before another lengthy piano lapse and outro that sounds like it could be the very last thing on the album.

But no, Cross-Pollination is here, and this is where Exogenesis suddenly turns beautiful. Words are sparse, and instead it’s a reflective piano piece which gives hope to mankind. “Lets start over again / why can’t we start it over again?” Bellamy begins, before the album’s final message: “This time we’ll get it right / it’s our last chance to forgive ourselves”. It’s a sublime, gutsy finale, and one which only Muse could pull off.

The Resistance may not be their most cohesive work yet, and certainly not their finest, but it’s not too far off. Any producer in the world would probably have changed so much of this that you’d never recognise it, but it’s Muse’s ability to take risks and do things their own way which has made them one of the greatest bands in the world.