Report by Simone Vavala
Photographs by Moira Carola
Evening dedicated to Ipecac, at Magnolia, even if – fortunately – we are not referring to the well-known emetic made famous in these parts by a revolting and hilarious episode of Family Guy. We are obviously talking about the label of Mike Patton, who in this round does not limit himself to assembling a few champions from his team, but takes to the field with the big boys, in particular with the return of Mr. Bungle on soil after a quarter of a century. Italian.
This is already an event in itself, especially in light of the personal crisis experienced by the good Mike in recent years, if you then add the ‘superstar’ lineup assembled for the re-release of their demo, well, it was really difficult to miss out on the event.
It’s no coincidence, at the end of the evening there was talk of over two thousand tickets sold, and it’s clear that the presence of Dave Lombardo and Scott Ian in the lineup also attracted ‘only’ fans of their respective bands of origin (we don’t have to mention them, right?).
The ansHowever, the types are anything but insignificant, with the new sensation Spotlights at the opening and the sacred monsters of the panoramabut alternative like Oxbow to further warm up those present.
But let’s let the music speak, and that’s ithen the first band on the bill, let’s turn the spotlight on the evening…
The SPOTLIGHTS they are the classic band that goes beyond labels – and thank you very much, you will say, returning to what was said about the Ipecac team.
In this case, however, it is really superfluous and reductive to talk about post-rock, noise or new wave; the New York trio manages, first of all, to strike with the power of a sextet, and they do so regardless of whether it is their most expanded soundscapes, or their most energetic moments.
The setlist is well studied in the balance between these extremes, which Mario, Sarah and Chris ride like expert sailors on crazy waves. The old collaboration in the production phase with Aaron Harris is no coincidence, given that Isis is the greatest echo of him that comes to mind, despite his strong and independent personality.
The continuous flow between the two voices is particularly striking: Mario’s, less volatile than on record, yet always extremely dreamy, while Sarah strikes with targeted rasps, while carrying the band on her shoulders with her sumptuous bass. Only five pieces, for them, but enough to appreciate them as well, or more, live.
Having recently entered Mike Patton’s court, the OXBOW they do not require particular introductions, given their almost cult status within the experimental scene. Their formula proves to be powerful in a live setting, with the very solid rhythm section on which Niko Wenner paints his noise textures of clear 1980s origin; even if compared to the natural traveling companions of the period (Sonic Youth, Jesus Lizard above all), the supporting and decisive element of the San Francisco band always remains him, Eugene Robinson.
Dressed in a gold-colored suit, which he soon undresses until he is left in his underwear – of the same color, long live the elegance – with his sinuous movements and his deep and enveloping voice, but high-pitched and awkward when it is necessary to insist on the more suffering from life, catalyzes the public’s attention as always. Poet, wrestler, occasional actor,… all his souls emerge in his performance as a cursed crooner.
The set isn’t very long, but it doesn’t disappoint in terms of intensity; half of the songs are taken from the recent “Love’s Holiday”, while at the end we go back almost thirty years with the both devastating and poignant nihilism of “La Luna”.
At 9.45pm, the scheduled start time for the five madmen’s show, the audience begins to clap in a palpable way. It takes a few more minutes before hearing the notes of “Also Sprach Zarathustra”, in a rather distorted version compared to Strauss’s, but this will be the leitmotif of the whole concert: the sense of the absurd for pure fun is what has always characterized i MR. BUNGLE.
Some long-time fans, before the concert, turned up their noses a bit at the idea of a purely thrash set, and there are no doubts that the deep soul of Mr. Bungle finds greater form in the schizoid deliriums alternating between death metal, swing, ska and so on and so forth that characterized the three albums of the Californian band, but tonight’s hour and a half performance, pardon the spoiler, will end up enchanting almost everyone present. Mike Patton and his joke they love each other or hate each other, but it is undeniable that compared to the ‘metalheads’ who feel offended by his epithets when he plays with Faith No More, this band is a circus in itself, in which certain sideshows are fine. In particular the one linked to the Inter shirt that Mike shows off, underlining at a certain point that “it’s just a joke: Inter shit, go Milan!”.
Then, between ducks sneering at the microphone, the noise effects with which Patton embellishes the sound of his companions – or also manages the breaks, also alternating gestures like a crazy orchestra conductor – the interludes in Italian and the joke told by Dave Lombardo, who we spare you because it is worthy of “Laughter through gritted teeth” on the Settimana Enigmistica, everything is a huge game, but damn if it works.
The aforementioned Dave Lombardo is in a state of grace, and reminds us of who has overturned the way of playing drums in metal. Scott Ian is the usual fury, and it is no coincidence that we find ourselves in the presence of one of the greatest thrash riffmakers. The three founding members have rediscovered the alchemy of the past, and if there is little to add about Patton, the secluded Trevor Dunn confirms himself as a monster of the four strings, while Trey Spruance makes you think, also for the look halfway between the holy man and the homeless man, to a mystic to whom mysterious gods have given a special touch, capable of mixing furious riffs, prog sophistication in small passages and that Middle Eastern air here and there, an element that he took to the extreme with his Secret Chiefs Trio.
The setlist is obviously centered on “The Raging Wrath Of The Easter Bunny”, with only one excerpt from “Mr. Bungle”, and what a piece: “My Ass Is On Fire” untangles and reinforces at the same time the thrash/crossover that makes large segments of the audience mosh wildly, while also recalling the band’s instrumental expertise, in particular in the samba connection, with an amazing Scott playing the guiro.
For the rest – and let’s stay in no particular order, as is right for a band that doesn’t follow any logic other than that of madness – the covers go crazy: from the Cro-Mags to an excerpt of “Hell Awaits”, passing through “Summer Breeze” made famous in a lugubrious form by Type O Negative, and then much, much love for Italy. Not only does the medley with “Speak English Or Die” by SOD, already transformed into “Habla Español O Muere” on record become “Parla Italiano O Muori”, but there is space for a devastating cover by Raw Power, for the resumption of the legendary “24.000 Baci” by Celentano, while the grand finale transforms the refrain of the cloying “All By Myself” into a modulated “But Va-ffan-cuuuuu-lo” which, of course, involves everyone present.
Tired, sweaty, bruised – even in person – we had fun also and above all because the band proved to be having fun every minute.
And, for those who had doubts about the effectiveness or ‘honesty’ of this incarnation, we remind you that the original demo dates back to 1986: after all, Mr. Bungle contributed, even if in the background, to defining a certain sound, and it was right that they received waves of sweat and adrenaline on stage even in this form, at a good time.
Setlist:
Also Sprach Zarathustra, op. 30 (intro)
Grizzly Adams
Anarchy Up Your Anus
Bungle Grind
I’m Not In Love
Eracist
Spreading the Thighs Of Death
Malfunction
Hypocrites / Habla Español O Muere
Glutton For Punishment
Hopelessly Devoted To You
Hell Awaits
Summer Breeze
Raping Your Mind
My Ass Is On Fire
Sudden Death
State Oppression
24,000 kisses
All By Myself
SPOTLIGHTS
OXBOW
MR. BUNGLE
