Tag Archives: 365 days of mike patton

365 Days of Mike Patton: “Desert Search For Techno Allah,” Mr. Bungle (1995)

One of my favorite songs on Mr. Bungle’s Disco Volante album is the Arabic-tinged, bass-heavy track “Desert Search For echno Allah.” I’m not even a techno fan, but when that bass drops at 59 seconds into the song, it’s hard not to feel your heart in your throat.

Like plenty of Mr. Bungle songs, this has multiple layers. There’s the techno aspect. There’s the almost horror movie type soundtrack at other points in the song. There’s Patton’s spoken word and screaming. There are the lyrics that read “Qiyamat a tawil” and “Qiyamat insan al kamel” (which reportedly roughly translate to “the great resurrection of the beginning” and “the great resurrection of the perfect man”).

It’s a strange song, but the more you listen to it, the more normal it becomes because you come to realize it’s not some gimmick tune. There’s real structure and real thought put behind the song. That’s probably why I love it even though I never enjoyed techno.

Even Urban Dictionary has an entry for “Desert Search” that reads “A very kickass Mr. Bungle song, off their second album Disco Volante. Prince of Persia on acid. Ruined people’s speakers back in the 90s.”

Yep, that rattling I heard in the speakers of my 1993 Saturn I drove in college and into young adulthood? You can probably blame it on Sevendust’s “Rumble Fish” and “Desert Search For a Techno Allah.”

And just for the heck of it, here’s a live version from 2000. Mr. Bungle played this song at the show I attended in 1999 but I don’t really remember it. Which is too bad, because it’s pretty awesome.

 Previously from Disco Volante:

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365 Days of Mike Patton: “Goodbye Sober Day,” Mr. Bungle (1999)

When discussing “Fire in the Hole” the other day, I wrote about how I much I enjoy Mike Patton singing about the passage of time. He does so again on Mr. Bungle’s third and final album, California. (Coincidentally, I’m seeing Fiddler on the Roof’s national tour, where this theme is visited.)

Or at least this lyric represents what I think is Patton singing about the passage of time.

“Goodbye sober day/The years grew wings and flew away/Ghosts of the past become barbarians/Of the future/And I still pity you/Because what you said was true.”

Then, as Mr. Bungle is known to do, the song takes a completely new direction and, eventually, all hell breaks loose.

As bassist Trevor Dunn told Faith No More Followers, Patton, with the exception of a riff or two, wrote most of “Goodbye Sober Day.”

And Sputnik Music really enjoyed it.

Wrote the reviewer, “Arguably the most ingenious song in Mr. Bungle’s entire discography, ‘Goodbye Sober Day’ capitalizes on the album’s momentum by being an all-out explosion of eccentricism and horror, jumping from an exotic xylophone melody to fuzzy distortion to ghostly cries until finally culminating in an unforgettable burst of both frenetic tribal chanting and heavy metal. ‘Goodbye Sober Day’ is the perfect final note for Mr. Bungle’s career, remaining true to the sound established on California while nevertheless harkening back to the band’s previous releases.”

The frenetic chanting in the middle is apparently based on the Ramayana, an ancient Indian epic that was written in Sanskrit. A strange choice, but hey, that’s Mr. Bungle. California is Mr. Bungle’s most accessible album, but “Goodbye Sober Day” isn’t necessarily for the mainstream top-40 fan.

“To us, California is pop-y,” Patton told New Music in 1999. “But to some fucking No Doubt fan in Ohio, they’re not going to swallow that.”

Previously from California:

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365 Days of Mike Patton: “Catch My Heart,” Bohren and Der Club of Gore (2011)

As promised in Tuesday’s edition of the 365 Days of Mike Patton, I’ve googled “German doom band” and “Mike Patton,” and I’ve found what he was talking about when he told Believer magazine in 2013, “It’s amazing to me that people have paid enough attention to what I’ve done to even shake a stick at it. Especially because I haven’t made it easy. I haven’t made, let’s just say, typical decisions. As cynical as I can be, when people say, ‘Yeah, I love what you did with the X-Ecutioners and also with that German doom band,’ it always takes me aback.”

That German doom band is Bohren and Der Club of Gore. I’ve never heard of the group, and I never knew Patton collaborated with it. So, let’s take a quick listen.

It starts off slow and melodic and Patton’s voice goes baritone deep for much of the song (with occasional bursts of crooning). It’s a cover of a Warlocks song, but since I don’t know the Warlocks either, that doesn’t help me much. Consequence of Sound calls Bohren and Der Club of Gore a “horror jazz” band, and that sounds about right.

The song doesn’t really go anywhere, but it’s a pleasant enough listening. It’s certainly a more pleasing experience than I originally imagined what I’d hear from something calling itself a German doom band.

To follow along on the 365 days of Patton, click here for a list of each day’s post.

365 Days of Mike Patton: “Fire in the Hole,” Gen. Patton and the X-ecutioners (2005)

I don’t think I’ve ever listened to the General Patton Vs. the X-ecutioners album all the way through without stopping. It’s a little too chaotic and frenetic for me, and I’m just not that big a fan of listening to DJs (albeit talented DJs) ply their trade for an hour at a time.

But in two- or three-minute bursts, I’m in. Especially if Mike Patton is singing about the passage of time.

“The time is blowing my leaves/Off of our branches and trees/A year can feel like a day

If we can only conceive/If we would ever believe/Where we would be today.”

In 2013, Believer Magazine told Patton that he had likely inspired many people to perform different kind of music because “your music was an entrance into so many other genres.” There’s the hard rock of Faith No More, the ska/funk/punk of Mr. Bungle, the avant-garde of Fantomas, the hardcore of Dead Cross, the decades-old Italian pop songs of Mondo Cane, the hip-hop of General Patton, etc.

Patton appreciated that sentiment.

“That’s about as good a compliment as you can get,” he said. “It’s amazing to me that people have paid enough attention to what I’ve done to even shake a stick at it. Especially because I haven’t made it easy. I haven’t made, let’s just say, typical decisions. As cynical as I can be, when people say, ‘Yeah, I love what you did with the X-Ecutioners and also with that German doom band,’ it always takes me aback.”

A German doom band with Patton? Hmm, I’ll have to look that up.

Previously from General Patton:

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365 Days of Mike Patton: “A Little Poker Tomorrow Night?,” A Perfect Place (2008)

In 1991, Faith No More’s “The Perfect Crime” was recorded for Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey, and for FNM fans who were looking for new music, it was a godsend. But Mike Patton wanted more than just a single song on a single film’s soundtrack.

So, when, about seven years later, he was asked to record the movie score and soundtrack for a black-and-white short called A Perfect Place, he was so enthused that his soundtrack was actually 10 minutes longer than the entire 25-minute film. Here’s “A Little Poker Tomorrow Night?” a song that contains Patton’s mouth noises and plenty of “la-la-la, la-la-la’s” in an almost child-like voice.

There isn’t much in the way of singing on this album (though there are a few that we’ll eventually get to on this 365-day journey), but much of the music is gorgeous.

All Music gave it a good review, though “The twist that differentiates this project from his many others is that he had to adhere to someone else’s vision, and with less freedom to run rampant, the standard Patton idiosyncrasies are refined.” Still, the reviewer wrote that Patton “shows off his enormous talent as a sophisticated composer and musician.”

For Patton, it’s a matter of looking at the music in a visual way.

“With pretty much every musical situation that I’ve been in, like Faith No More, especially, we always would say, ‘Picture Harry Dean Stanton in Paris, Texas.’ And we’d use moments like that,” Patton told Believer Magazine in 2013. “Or the pistol-whipping scene in Goodfellas. … It’s a point of reference that you can use. Instead of saying, ‘Hey, a quarter note here and an eighth note there and a minor seventh…’ No. To me it works much better to say, ‘Now picture this.’”

With the exception of some of the percussion, Patton composed and played everything on the A Perfect Place soundtrack. Which just shows that Patton, for all his vocal talents, isn’t somebody who’s only good at singing and screaming. He’s simply good at being a musician.

365 Days of Mike Patton: “Digging the Grave,” Faith No More (1995)

It was my first Faith No More concert. I was standing in the middle of the floor at my favorite ever venue, the Masquerade in Atlanta. The lights went dark to signify the start of the show, the crowd roared, and Mike Bordin hit the cymbals four times. And then pandemonium ensued.

I got hit from the left. I got hit from the right. I got bounced around (hard!) a few times more in the newly formed mosh pit, and that’s when I decided I should listen to Faith No More a little bit further away from the stage. I remember being completely floored by the music and the energy and by Mike Patton’s screams. I also remember somebody lost a shoe in that mosh pit.

That’s probably when I fell in love with Faith No More’s (and Patton’s) music.

While people still remembered Faith No More for its biggest hit, “Epic,” a half-decade earlier, its subsequent albums, Angel Dust and King For a Day, Fool For a Lifetime, are my two favorites. “Digging the Grave” is the ninth song on the latter record, and it’s just killer.

It’s the perfect way to open a hard rock show.

See what I mean?

When I saw FNM on its King For a Day tour, it was playing in front of about 500 people in a mid-sized club. In the U.S., the band never could sustain its popularity after “Epic.” In much of the rest of the world, though, it was a different story, where King For a Day blasted into the top-five of the record charts in the U.K., Australia, New Zealand, Sweden and Finland. Its peak in America was No. 31.

“By that time, we knew that our unpopularity in America and our popularity everywhere else was letting us know that we must be doing the right thing because American music was so fucking bad at that time,” bassist Billy Gould told Metal Hammer. “At that time we all went off and did solo stuff for a couple of years because we were so tired of all the bullshit that people bought to their experience of Faith No More. But that wasn’t fatigue with the music, just with being so fucking misunderstood. Which sounds primadonnaish but is true: Right now when people tell me they love that record I think, ‘Where the fuck were you when it came out then?’”

I was there, Billy! In the mosh pit, getting bashed around, watching somebody look for a lost shoe that was probably never found, falling in love.

Previously from King For a Day:

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365 Days of Mike Patton: “Kool Aid Party,” Team Sleep (2003 or 2005)

Before today, I’d never heard of Team Sleep. I’d never heard of “Kool Aid Party.” I never knew Mike Patton and Deftones singer Chino Moreno had worked together on a project. And there’s probably a good reason for that.

Because this song was left on the cutting room floor of Team Sleep’s first and only record.

Team Sleep was a side project for Moreno, and he explained it as “droney” and “ambient.” “Kool Aid Party” certainly reflects that.

The original album was supposed to be released in 2003 but was delayed two years after some of the tunes were prematurely leaked online (damn you, internet!). During my cursory attempt at researching this track, I couldn’t figure out why Patton’s track was left off the album (I actually dig the song quite a bit).

But it’s no surprise why Moreno would have wanted Patton. Faith No More, after all, was a large inspiration for much of the nu metal community, and Deftones were certainly a part of that world.

Angel Dust was the record that made me think, ‘This is one of the sickest bands,’” Moreno said, via FNM 2.0. “The first album had a couple of good songs, but Angel Dust sounded savage to me. It sounded way more like a Mike Patton record.”

And perhaps Moreno didn’t want Team Sleep to sound anything like a Patton record. Maybe that’s why he ended up locking “Kool Aid Party” in the vault.

To follow along on the 365 days of Patton, click here for a list of each day’s post.

365 Days of Mike Patton: “Lost Weekend,” The Qemists (2008)

One reason I wanted to embark on this Mike Patton journey was because he pops up in cameos in so many other genres of music from bands and singers I never would have listened to otherwise. Like Dub Trio or Sepultura (and other bands and groups we’ll explore in the future).

The Qemists are a British electronic group that actually started as a rock band. The Qemists’ first full-length album was released in 2009, and it featured Patton on the “Lost Weekend” tune. What does it sound like? Well, it sounds like Patton singing vocals over an electronic band with plenty of “Woo-hoos!” thrown in for good measure.

As Pop Matters wrote, “‘Lost Weekend’ takes that frenetic metal and puts Mike Patton’s freakish wails over the top of it. Still, more subtle influences find their way into these tracks. About two minutes into the song, Patton’s voice gets a solo break that sounds more like Kanye with the heavy autotune effects on the line ‘I got your money.’”

This was around the time of Patton’s Peeping Tom project (we’ll get there), where he was performing more pop-oriented and/or electronic-tinged stylings. So, this partnership makes sense for Patton’s resume at the time. But like many of Patton’s other collaborations, he didn’t actually record the song directly with the band.

“Being fortunate enough to have an opportunity to work with a legend is definitely something we don’t take for granted,” The Qemists told Provenance magazine. “We had mutual acquaintances at the time who were able to put us together, we sent him a track and he loved it. We [didn’t] work together in person, so we just had conversations and got it together; but it turned out awesome.”

365 Days of Mike Patton: “Church of the Motherfuckers,” Dead Cross (2017)

Mike Patton and drummer Dave Lombardo, once bandmates for Fantomas, teamed up again for another project in 2017. Instead of the avant garde (or “avant grind”) stylings of Fantomas—which, frankly, can be hit or miss for me—they created a supergroup called Dead Cross. And it’s straight ahead hardcore music.

The video below for “Church of the Motherfuckers” features a priest getting bullied and beaten up in what appears to be some sort of Fight Club, surrounded by children. It’s an intense video for an intense song (though this song isn’t quite as fast or heavy as a lot of the rest of the album, and there’s actually a decent amount of melody in this tune, at least compared to the rest of the record).

Like he did with Faith No More nearly 30 years earlier, Patton replaced the band’s original vocalist and then wrote all the lyrics for the forthcoming album (while FNM was releasing its third album after Patton joined, this was Dead Cross’ first record). And while some believe Dead Cross have more of a metal or thrash sound, there’s no doubt what this is in Patton’s mind.

“To me, it is a traditional hardcore record,” Patton told Rolling Stone. “It is very pointed, direct and visceral. Like, I wasn’t going to play keyboards, add samples or any kind of orchestration. It was like, ‘Yo, just go for it.’ In some ways, it reminded me of stuff that we had collectively all grown up with and loved when we were like teenagers—bands like the Accüsed, Deep Wound or Siege, stuff that was just brutal, uncompromising and right to the point. I was listening to all those bands again before this came to be, so it was already back infused in my blood. And now I got a chance to do a pencil-in-your-eye record.”

If you like Patton singing with his outrageous range, this might not be the album for you. But if you like him screaming set against a hard, heavy, fast, and unforgiving beat, Dead Cross might be exactly what you want to hear.

365 Days of Mike Patton: “Introduce Yourself,” Faith No More (1987)

We don’t normally write about Faith No More songs from the band’s first two albums, We Care a Lot and Introduce Yourself, because Mike Patton didn’t perform on those records. Instead, it was a singer by the name of Chuck Mosley who acted as the frontman of the band before he was eventually kicked out, which then made room for Patton.

But I’m including this song from the band’s second album, because Patton sang it plenty on stage with Faith No More and because his style on this song clashed heavily with what Mosley produced in the studio.

First, here’s Mosley in 1987.

And here’s Patton live in 1995.

I’m not a huge fan of Mosley’s style, which is why I almost never listen to the first few FNM albums. But other than the roll call of the band members’ first names early in the song, I don’t mind his version. But still, I much prefer Patton’s chaotic, screamy take on it.

Anyway, here’s how the band fired Mosley. Not unlike guitarist Jim Martin a few years later, FNM just kinda got tired of him (and because they were all going in different musical directions).

As Louder Sound tells it, the band was on its European tour after Introduce Yourself was released, and one of Mosley’s roadies got into a physical altercation with guitarist Jim Martin, a brouhaha which apparently broke Martin’s hand (not a great injury for a guitar player). The band fired the roadie over Mosley’s objections.

Later in the tour, bassist Billy Gould apparently punched Mosley (not unlike Patton one day throwing bottles at Martin while on stage) because he was so sick of him. Then, once the band returned home, everything went to hell.

“There was a certain point when I went to rehearsal, and Chuck wanted to do all acoustic guitar songs. It was just so far off the mark—I think I actually attacked him again,” Gould said.

Afterward, Gould said he quit the band. Then, he talked to drummer Mike Bordin, who said, “Well, I still want to play with you.” Then, a similar conversation was had with keyboardist Roddy Bottum. He also decided he’d rather play with Gould and Bordin than Mosley. Pretty soon, that was that, and Mosley was gone.

Patton’s arrival would change everything.