Faith No More - The Real Thing (1989)

The second coming. Literally. 'The Real Thing' was the most explosive happening in rock music since the dawning of the genre. Fact.
The band had recruited super-brat Mike Patton of Mr Bungle, and crashed into the metal mainstream with an exhibition of startling music that simply defied the genre, despite the countless number of bands being blurted out by styles such as 'grunge'. Faith No More were a breath of fresh air, making seemingly commercial records yet with the aggression, diversity and sinister obscurity to baffle, amaze and astound audiences across the world. It was from here also that metal took a huge twist, no longer was there a craving for satanic imagery or denim 'n' leather, but instead metal grew up, bands were eager to fill stadiums, but this also produced a negative effect as certain bands began to attempt to change styles and with that, brought a fakery about the genre.
Faith No More defied classification, but their cauldron of colourful sound embraced all genres, from deep soul grooves, to raw thrash, and from funky hip-hop crossover to surreal pop, 'The Real Thing' strutted, cavorted, copulated and bounced like no other record, and spawned thousands of imitators and a sickly, annoying genre that would become known as 'funk metal', a bizarre category which became filled with bands who attempted to bring hip-hop, funky bass and a diversity into their sound, it was metal's biggest joke, but Faith No More were part of nothing, they were head and shoulders above the rest.
'From Out Of Nowhere' sweeps in on big Jim Martin's metallic crunch and Roddy Bottum's lush keys and suddenly Patton is there, frontman extraordinaire for a new generation, spasticated rock god, ignorant brat, spoilt juvenile, toilet-humoured retard to spooky clown, wrenched from his home town of Berkeley, California, thrust into the public spotlight, his nasal whine a million miles away from Chuck Mosley's one-dimensional rantings from the previous opus. Here we had a singer who could drift effortlessly from Sade-type lounge soul, to rugged death metal, country 'n' western hillbilly and frothing serial murder, these schizophrenic characters peeping between Billy Gould's bubbling bass lines and Mike Bordin's skins, it was like nothing that had come before, a truly eccentric and ground-breaking record, and despite it's success, it was like the in-joke that no-one got but went along for the ride anyway.
'From Out Of Nowhere' is sugary, sweet and flippant, it's flamboyancy created in its soaring chorus, but it was second track 'Epic' which blew everyone away.
Aerosmith and Anthrax had attempted the rap crossovers to good effect but in 'Epic' we had a thudding, metallic crossover track with Patton's spoilt, child-like grimace flowing into a soul-searching chorus that left all other bands wishing they'd had the idea. Genius. And the tracks kept on keeping, we waited for a bad moment, a rotten egg amongst the smoking chorus lines, the catchy hooks and unforgettable riffs, but it never came, we were thrown, flipped and showered by the swirling colours, the bouncy bass of 'Falling To Pieces', Patton pulling all manner of faces like a naughty child, people at once becoming irritated yet mesmerised by this twenty-something star, who spat in the face of his admirers, whilst the rest of the band made up the strange bag. 'Surprise You're Dead' is death metal, Jim Martin, the heavy metal man of the band clanking out a riff that Slayer would've been proud of and then all goes quiet, 'Zombie Eaters' trickles into the ears before building into its chugging chorus, the listener mystified by the enigmatic lyrics that conjure up images we cannot comprehend. This is Faith No More land, where the title cut showcases Patton's versatile croon before 'Underwater Love' shimmy's into the room, 'The Morning After' thuds and the hypnotic 'Woodpecker From Mars' instrumental fuses Sabbath with some early '70s prog rock orgy.
Although the vinyl copy at the time ended there, the cd doesn't, smashing you over the head with an immense cover of Black Sabbath's 'war Pigs' and cocktail bar smooch of 'edge Of The World'.
There's no review which can truly describe the magic, pleasure, pain and topsy-turvy emotion one gets from 'The Real Thing' but without it, metal would have nose-dived, because this is one of the most important records not just in the history of rock, but music in general.
10/10