Tool hitting Mandalay Bay this weekend

Tool is one of the best live bands on the planet even if its members don't always seem to be from this planet.

Their tunes are labyrinths of metallic ambition, apocalyptic overtones and extraterrestrial sound.

But they don't make new records very often -- their most recent disc, "10,000 Days," came out in 2006 -- and so when they do tour, they have a limited pool of material to choose from.

This being said, Tool always seems to manage a few surprises when they hit the road, even without a fresh album to flog.

With this in mind, we thought we'd suggest some songs that we'd like to hear when the band comes to town this weekend, some seldom played jams or favorites that they haven't performed in the past decade.

Here are five numbers that highlight our dream set list:

'Reflection'

Equally inspired and inspiring, this call for a universal consciousness builds from a whisper to a roar over the course of 11 tense minutes. "We are all one mind capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable," frontman Maynard James Keenan sings on a song that lives up to the high aspirations of his words. Ominous synth that sounds as if were taken from the score to a 1980s John Carpenter flick sets a brooding, foreboding tone that eventually builds to an eruptive climax, a burst of energy suggestive of an atom being cleaved in half.

'Triad'

This quartz-dense instrumental jam develops gradually, like an oncoming storm front slowly moving across the horizon, when, all of a sudden, lightning flashes and a downpour of sound floods the senses. This is one of drummer Danny Carey's finer moments, where he plays with the cinder-block-smashing power of John Bonham in his prime. He's the engine that powers one of Tool's most physical, just plain overwhelming songs. Remember that blanket party scene in "Full Metal Jacket" where Vincent D'Onofrio gets beaten to tears with bars of soap? That's how "Triad" registers.

'Ticks & Leeches'

This just in from the department of redundancy department: Carey rules. Another performance where it sounds as if the dude is playing with a set of six nuclear-powered robot arms. He puts on a drum clinic while Keenan screams himself hoarse over guitars that get under the skin like the parasites that the song takes its name from. There's a false sense of security midway through this eight-minute head trip, a brief moment of calm, and then Keenan lets loose with perhaps the most bloodcurdling scream he's ever emitted on record. When it's over, you feel as winded as he must have been at that moment.

"Is this what you wanted?" he bellows at the conclusion of it all.

Well, yeah.

'H.'

This emotionally charged tune from 1996's "Aenima" was once a staple of Tool's live gigs, but the band hasn't played it much in the past 10 years. On it, Keenan delivers one of his most affecting vocal performances toward the song's grand finale. "As the walls come down and as I look in your eyes, my fear begins to fade," he sings, ostensibly speaking to his son, whom "H." is believed to be about. It's a tender, unguarded moment from a band whose true sentiments can be as puzzling to decipher as a scrambled Rubik's Cube.

'Hush'

Tool's first recorded material was as concise and to the point as the band's latter day repertoire would become expansive and lyrically opaque. This bruising banshee howl is the band at its most confrontational, a profane, three-minute kiss off from its 1992 EP "Opiate," where the group establishes the guiding principle of its career: These dudes are going to do what they want, when they want, and if that means turning antagonism into an art form, so be it.

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.