
Never in all my years as a fan and critic of rock music have I encountered an act as brazenly label defying, yet wickedly unique and destructive as California noise terrorists Mr. Bungle. Every track, genetically spliced from funk, jazz fusion, and death metal perfectly compliment lyrics about masturbation, diarrhea, and even the occasional tribute to a dead pet. Even with words this silly/sinister, rest assured that it couldn’t be more tongue-in-cheek. Although the omnipresent saxophones lend to a sense of camp, each song resides in a space somewhere between a nightmarish circus and the bowels of Hell itself. In no way could the conception of this record be feasible without the unholy trinity of Mike Patton, Trevor Dunn, and John Zorn. Imagine if you could all the previous bands these three have collaborated with, combined stylistically with Stolen Babies, Incantation, and Earth Wind & Fire – you’re starting to get the gist. Overall, this is a scorching aural experience that is the sonic equivalent of blotter acid, just nowhere near as clean. You’ve been fucking warned!
- C. Kolakowski



