With bandmates bickering, Queens are all but dead

Trying to understand fully the personal dynamics within a rock band is like deciphering the inner workings of an intimate relationship you're not involved in. No matter how sanguine things may seem on the outside, you probably have no idea what's really going on.

And so it is with Queens of the Stone Age, which once seemed the least likely band to come undone in a wash of recriminations, egos, and hurt feelings. After three albums, including 2000's trippy, boisterous "R" and 2002's brilliant "Songs for the Deaf," the hard-rock band made the stunning announcement last week that cofounder and singer-bassist Nick Oliveri was out and that singer-lead guitarist Josh Homme will continue on with new bandmates. Singer Mark Lanegan, who worked with the band on "R" and "Songs for the Deaf," also left to concentrate on solo projects.

A vague official band statement said, "A number of incidents occurring over the last 18 months have led to the decision that [Oliveri and Homme] can no longer maintain a working partnership in the band," and ever since, the two have been engaged in a spirited "he said-he said" on various websites. Homme told Billboard.com he and Oliveri almost parted ways while on a tour a year ago, and he reached a point where, "I can't do this in Queens with Nick anymore.

"Do I want to play with Nick? You bet your sweet [expletive]. Do I want to go on tour with Nick for two years? No. Do I want someone to walk into my room and turn the stereo on all the way and split, that sort of idea of living? No! No. I'm sick of it. I can't take it. Sorry."

Oliveri, who has known Homme since high school, posted a letter on the website for his band Mondo Generator, stating he was fired and hinting that his abrupt departure was a result of control issues within the band.

"The concept was simple: A ROCK BAND, selfless, mindless, ego-free, unprotected, about danger, sex, and no [expletive] rock 'n' roll. You know what happens when a pure and original rock band gets polluted, poisoned by hunger for power, and by control issues? Things get really out of control. I'm noticing that people start fighting for control, especially when they realize they have no control. And whatever happened to loyalty?" He ended his missive with the lament, "My favorite band is dead."

With the success of "Songs for the Deaf," (which also featured Dave Grohl proving yet again why he's one of the greatest rock drummers ever), the Queens seemed primed for the kind of mainstream breakthrough they've deserved since the band ascended in 1998 from the ashes of the sludgy alt-metal band Kyuss. Better than the Strokes, less precious than the White Stripes, and without the inscrutability of Radiohead, the Queens have been rock's best band in recent years, even if they haven't garnered the biggest headlines and award nominations.

At its best, the Queens' music was always complicated and catchy, as on their biggest hits, "No One Knows," "The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret," and "Go With the Flow." Their approach to rock was unquestionably straight ahead but with gorgeous artistic flourishes that wisely stopped short of pretentiousness. Unlike some too-cool-for-the-room bands that behave as if only sellouts actually learn to play their instruments, Homme and Oliveri were unashamed of their deep musicality. Homme is a mighty singer, who never sacrifices soul for bombast, and Oliveri, an inventive bassist, could sing with aching sweetness on "Auto Pilot," or with full-on bombast on "Quick and to the Pointless." They made music that could make listeners move and thrash, reflect and laugh.

And yes, as serious as they were about their music, they always understood that rock is supposed to be fun, as with "Feel Good Hit of the Summer." Perhaps tired of the stoner tag that had followed them since their Kyuss days, Homme made the song a 2 1/2-minute recitation consisting only of the names of various substances -- "Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, marijuana, ecstasy, alcohol" -- married to snarly, nipping guitars.

So, the lament that a "favorite band is dead" is not Oliveri's alone. Homme has said he intends to complete what would've been the Queens' fourth album, as well as work with his side project, Eagles of Death Metal. Oliveri will pour his energies into Mondo Generator. Both men have too much talent to quietly disappear, and fans can hope that someway, someday, the two will settle their differences and get back to the business of creating great music. Until then, it seems that the Queens have sadly abdicated their throne as arguably the best band in modern rock.

Renee Graham's Life in the Pop Lane column appears on Tuesdays. She can be reached at graham@globe.com.