Faith No More must've spent their time between the exotic 'The Real Thing' and 'Angel Dust', living amongst the sleaze, revelling in the surreal and self-mutilating their warped ego's, because 'Angel Dust' is one helluva obnoxious record, a nasty, experimental, two-fingered salute to those who drowned in the sickly sweet excess of past hits such as 'Epic'. 1992 was the year of the unfairground, and Mike Patton's true stamp on the planet, as his bratty, all American boy persona gave way to serial killer suaveness, oily-haired trucker and all round dodgy character, like some sneering, shifty menace from a David Lynch film, he brought his Mr Bungle influence to the rumble of FNM's already schizophrenic wheezes, but this time it was always darker, always sarcastic, yet somehow inviting into its shadiness and despair.
The mutterings were that people just didn't get 'Angel Dust', despite some serious catchiness this record was just too violent and brutal for many alternative-rock types to grab onto, instead 'Angel Dust' slithered eerily between death metal gurgles, spazztic industrial lunacy and commercial suicide, but so many years later it remains one of the greatest rock albums of all time, a bemusing, sinister and vivid dark recollection of Patton's obsession with late night tv channels, too much coffee and in-jokes that are simply downright evil.
Faith No More, as a live act were always colourful, but 'Angel...' propelled them to greater levels of self-harm, torment and inner frustration, the band themselves creaking under inner tensions as metaller guitar god Jim Martin eventually bowed out, leaving Mike Bordin to hammer the skins, Roddy Bottum to create the weird soundcsapes, and Billy Gould to thud the bass, all essential to the FNM surreal experience in which Patton became the hillybilly-cum-psychopath ringleader, his vile words and arrogant rasps flitting between poppy chords, bouncy anthems and swirling imagery, all sewn together with a layer of severe spite.
'Caffeine' borders on inaccessible, Patton's swoons now more of an off-beat, out of sequence warble over the rumbling guitars, only 'Midlife Crisis', the first single from the album' resembles a true FNM hit, the beat is very 'We Care Alot', but lyrically it's a slightly saner Mr Bungle sprinkled with Bottum's symbolic effects and Gould's trademark bass slams.
Like 'The Real Thing', 'Angel Dust' is once again faultless, anyone who cowers away from such a frightful circus of horrors should at once be confined to a cankered cell, because deep within the grime of this record lies not only a seething terror but a genuine masterpiece, from the lush openings of 'A Small Victory, irritatingly catchy yet as alien as anything else you're likely to hear, to the almost pleasant diversions of 'kindergarten' and upbeat cheerleader echoes of 'Be Aggressive', but as the band smirk at you, knowing you can't resist the candy, they also wait to rape your soul and put the dirt under your nails, check out the grotty yet swinging 'RV' with its huge twanging chorus, akin to Primus, and the sweeping cover of 'Midnight Cowboy'.
This is a wonderful yet scary experience, proving that Faith No More defy all categorisations, break all boundaries and can equally spit in the face of the success but somehow still drag it inside for the most horrific ride of its life.
10/10
No comments:
Post a Comment