Recipes are tricky things. A pinch too much of one ingredient and you’ve gone from flavor town to gak-ville in the blink of a taste bud. Even when the individual ingredients are delicious, sometimes the combination of flavors only appeals to a very specific palate. Tonic Immobility, the fifth album from post-rock supergroup Tomahawk, is precisely the sum of its incredible parts. The synergistic energy of the project, which features Jesus Lizard guitarist Duane Denison, Helmet and Battles drummer John Stanier, and former Melvins, Bungle and Fantomas bassist Trevor Dunn, is limited by the attention-hogging vocals by Faith No More frontman Mike Patton.

I’m sure there are some who will find Patton’s enthusiastic and offbeat vocals to be a good match for the powerfully manic music produced by the rest of the band. And this is not easy music to sing over. Jesus Lizard vocalist David Yow famously recorded himself with a bucket over his head to get the sound right on the band’s landmark album, Goat, released 30 years ago. Patton similarly abuses his logorrheic vocals with overdrives and caustic studio effects. In fact, Patton’s strongest moments on the album come when he apes Yow’s braying-at-the-orderlies-in-the-asylum-style screaming on songs like “Valentine Shine.”

On songs like “Predators and Savages,” Patton’s vocals feel a little like the kid from drama club who doesn’t respect your personal space and is always “on.” Lyrics like “my eyes are camouflaged,” which Patton delivers with a passionate scream, come across a bit like a frat guy trying to get deep after a six-pack or three. On the album’s first single, “Business Casual,” Patton channels John Lennon’s non-sequitur approach used on “I Am the Walrus” and “Come Together.” But instead of wonderful nonsense combinations like “toe jam football” and “yellow matter custard dripping from a dead dog’s eye,” Patton ends up incanting a series of words that simply designate the banality of late capitalism.

“Bad cholesterol business casual/ Extra virgin splattering Adderall/ Seersucker suits fall business casual/ Bad cholestеrol business casual,” Patton screams.

Every player’s strengths are on display on the album. Denison’s razor-sharp guitar playing is a testament to intention and restraint. And his approach reveals the remarkable musical power that can be wrung from them. Stanier’s drumming is pugilistic, like body blows from a heavyweight champ in prime fighting shape. Dunn’s bass playing adds some punkish grunge and noise to the mix. The music is what you might expect from a supergroup: polished and powerful, with each player’s unique sound immediately recognizable. And yet there’s something a little clinical. The songs feel like they were written for the project, rather than emerging organically out of jams or years spent playing together.

But the contrived nature of the project doesn’t stop Tomahawk from creating some incredible music on Tonic Immobility. Songs like the slow and lumbering “Doomsday Fatigue” turn on a dime, suddenly becoming light and almost optimistic-sounding. “Tattoo Zero” and “Fatback” crackle with Jesus-Lizard-levels of intensity.

The amount of musical talent on Tonic Immobility is absolutely staggering. And I’m sure some fans will love Patton’s vocals. I’ll wait for some sonic hacker to scrub the album’s vocals and put it on YouTube as an instrumental, or as some kind of new karaoke record where you supply your own spittle-flecked vocal pyrotechnics to the musical maelstrom.

This story has been corrected to reflect how many albums Tomahawk has released, identity Faith No More vocalist Mike Patton and Fantomas, one of Trevor Dunn’s other bands. We regret the errors.

Follow writer David Gill at Twitter.com/songotaku and Instagram/songotaku.