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December 10, 2004

 

merry go bye bye

After a five-year recording break, experimental rockers Mr. Bungle are officially done. "I'm at a point now where I crave healthy musical environments, where there is a genuine exchange of ideas without repressed envy or resentment, and where people in the band want to be there regardless of what public accolades may come their way," says singer Mike Patton. "Unfortunately, Mr. Bungle was not one of those places."

[. . .]

"We could have probably squeezed out a couple more records but the collective personality of this group became so dysfunctional," Patton says. "This band was poisoned by one person's petty jealousy and insecurity, and it led us to a slow, unnatural death. And I'm at peace with that, because I know I tried all I could."

Oh, oh, oh, that smarts. Can I nostalgize for a sec?

I still remember the first time I listened to the first album, sitting in the smoking section at college, wedged into one of those awful study carrols, trying to figure out what my newfound friend Vinny had gotten me into. Or the night Disco Volante came out, I had to work my busboy job until about 1 in the morning and I'd left Vinny money to pick it up when it came out at midnight, coming home to my tiny studio apartment and listening to it all night while I banged out a term paper, until the sun slowly came up on me still listening to it and trying to watch the Naked Kiss and being weirded out by the confluence of Fuller's film and Bungle's After School Special. Or hanging out in Spanish Harlem with Glasson and God the Band and bongs o' plenty and California playing on the stereo, me trying to emphatically explain why this was so very very brilliant to anyone unfocused enough to listen.

There's the shows, Vinny and me crowded into the Metro just before Thanksgiving, a ramshackle set-up and Bungle somehow translating the orchestral mess of Disco Volante into a compelling show before busting out the last song, a cover of "Everybody's Working for the Weekend," and I coulda swore when he pointed around the audience, saying "You. You. Yeah, you motherfucker," his finger landed on me for a second. Same venue a few years later, California like Brian Wilson digesting John Zorn, a pop extravaganza, disturbed children's songs to God. Front row, covered in sweat. The last time, the House of Booze, The Monkees' Headquarters playing on the overhead before the band came out.

While so many bands tried very little, Bungle tried way too much and often succeeded, they never sounded the same twice, they never bothered to sound like they gave a damn whether anyone was listening, and from them came Secret Chiefs 3, every Mike Patton solo project and a whole generation of Slipknotian morons who will forever ape, but never emulate. Godspeed, gentle musicians of Eureka, California. You'll be missed.

Posted by xtop at December 10, 2004 12:57 PM | TrackBack
 




Commentary:

Can I nostalgize for a sec?

Everyone of my southside drooling, lunkhead buddies wet themselves when The Real Thing came out and I had to sit back and wonder why. Then the first Bungle record hit the shores and I suddenly understood that the name Mike Patton was one I should remember. Little did I know that the names Trey Spruance and Trevor Dunn would come to mean as much, if not more.

I listened to and memorized every moment of that record with something my buddies called, “a sickness”. I told everyone I knew about it, made copy after copy, practically forced people to endure the whole thing, especially “Dead Goon” which still remains the highlight. When Disco Volante came out, I was in heaven. Xtop recalls it perfectly, how he gave me money and told me to go get it at exactly midnight. I was halfway through “Carry Stress in the Jaw” when he stumbled in, wondering if the blend of Slayer guitars and Ornette Coleman saxophone was indeed what it was. All I could do was smile.

This makes me sad. I knew they were calling it quits but a part of me refused to accept it. They are really the only band I could feel this way about. Fuck everything else. The Pixies broke up and I didn’t give a shit, even though I loved their music. Jane’s Addiction? Who cares? That guy from Morphine offed himself? Sorry to hear it, but… yawn. This, on the other hand, makes me feel oddly depressed.

Posted by: V at December 10, 2004 01:58 PM

oh, hey, sorry i gave your ticket away that one time. i still feel bad about that.

Posted by: x. at December 15, 2004 01:09 AM

It happens. I saw them 3 times, once each tour, so that's all that matters.

Posted by: vince at December 15, 2004 07:36 AM

Do you think "one person's petty jealousy" refers to Spruance? It seems like he and Patton were bringing the most to the collective table, and one can almost hear the creative friction in their final masterpiece California. It's a damned shame, because while I enjoy Patton's various solo projects, Bungle seemed to bring out the best in all those cats. But now that it's officially over, maybe there is a place for God The Band to pick up the slack.

Or not.

Posted by: M at December 19, 2004 02:10 PM

Patton was definitely referring to Spruance. Those two have "butted heads" apparently for years and had a sort of on again off again friendship. Oh, and they have not spoken since 2000, right at the end of the California tour.

I love the Secret Chiefs 3 and all things Patton (and Trevor Dunn is a hero) but yeah... Bungle was always the place where all those guys shined brightest.

Posted by: vinz at December 20, 2004 12:22 PM

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