Queens of the Stone Age have always remained enduringly, singularly magnetic. It isn't just their sound. It's their spirit. They are provocative in the most essential sense: unafraid to explore the dark, the sexual, the surreal, the absurd. It's art that snarls and seduces in equal measure, and never more so than on the band’s ninth album, Perfecth, due Oct. 30 from Matador Records. Kintsugi — the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by filling its cracks with gold — holds that what has been shattered is made more beautiful, not less, by the act of repair. This is the spirit in which Perfecth was made. An album that could only have been made right now thanks to Homme, Troy Van Leeuwen, Michael Shuman, Dean Fertita, and Jon Theodore taking significant evolutionary steps as a collective and arriving at hard-won clarity, its nine songs map different forms of love: of family, friends, and others both significant and insignificant. The loves that break you beyond survival and the loves that put you back together. Birthed from sessions tracked everywhere from New Orleans to Los Angeles, the music is fearless and boundless, moody and menacing, gentle and strange. Here, Queens have moved a career's worth of jagged pieces into alignment. "Every song sounds like it's from a different world," says Homme. "And that's on purpose, because it's trying to stitch together all these emotions revolving around love, lust, foolishness, and the sort of wisdom that comes as a gift from all that." The record is called Perfecth because "perfect," as a word, has never been honest. It doesn't exist. So, Homme broke the word and made it "perfecth," a more appropriate spelling for a term that never felt right to begin with. "Nothing in this world is perfect, but everything seems to be 'perfecth'," he explains. "And that title is funny when you're in a group, but it ain't so funny when you're alone.”