Mr. Bungle :: Ars Moriendi
This song changes parts more than an autumn-waking album. Seriously. Mike Patton is considered sexy by girls, women, men, boys, drag queens, trannies, very small dogs, and himself. He may or may not be. But if talent is sexy (and we know it is), then yes, sure, I would lick him. But I know for a fact he likes supersexy ladies (or dudes that look like ladies) with chainsaws. He’s probably a control freak too, considering how studio-perfect his songs are (listen to this and imagine recording all those tracks!!). He also conducts on stage, but from the front of the stage, and not looking at his band. But enough about him. This is really about Steve Eck.
Richie, the man who will survive after this world goes crazy and attacks itself, is a very great entity and good soul from Louisiana. He built his own house in the worst (best?) part of New Orleans. Inside it looks like Hemingway’s dream. Skins deck the halls, skulls deck the walls, cozy leather chairs invite. The lighting is well-placed and dim, of course. Steve and I sit at midnight surrounded by memories of hunting lodges playing endless games of dominoes and drinking Maker’s Mark on the rocks. California, a Mr. Bungle album, is on for the 400th time for Steve Eck, and the first time for me. However, I am currently kicking his ass with a trillion points after seventeen rounds, and want to concentrate. Then this song comes on.
“Dude,” I said.
“Hm?” He’s still studying his dominoes, squinting through smoke.
“This song is blowing my mind.”
“Yep.” Whiskey is sipped.
We’re playing dominoes because everyone has left town. Many have graduated and left. Others are at home on break. New Orleans is great then, almost empty. Sultry, ripe. We talk about relationships (one of his favorite topics). Jane is talking about visiting and that’s making Casey pretty nervous. Richie’s girlfriend is crazy and, perhaps, getting crazier. Steve Quick has a sugar mama and is doing alright there, so far as anyone can tell. Steve Eck is single, sort of, on and off with Gretchen and some other girls. I don’t really like my boyfriend anymore; I didn’t invite him to dominoes.
“Play that one again,” I request. Instead, we start the album over. It’s as glorious as an opera. Orchestrated like a dream, or a nightmare. We talk about musical geniuses and being the front man of five bands. We can be this hardcore. It’s decided. We drank on it, and so it must be.
Ars Moriendi
Mr. Bungle (fan site, another)
johnny said on tuesday, april 15th, 2008
Poppy said on tuesday, april 15th, 2008
Wow what a voice from my past! I was obsessed with Mike Patton when The Real Thing came out. I’d just gotten MTV and everything about the man was thrilling. This song is what it sounds like in my heart on a very very good day.
anika said on thursday, april 17th, 2008
dang johnny! 11 years old is a bit too early. well, now that i think about it, that sounds about right. I was listening to L7. scary too. you just have to love mike patton. the man is a genius. that song "easy" now makes me think of Verlaine & Rimbaud. thanks.
i love the shit out of mr. bungle. when i was 11 i bought the first mr. bungle record, its just as orchestrated, but instead of the middle eastern scales, they played circus music. very scary record, and sexual, which for an 11 year old is scarring. mike patton is the coolest person in the fucking world. he can do whatever he wants and he does. faith no more played, and during their cover of the commodores "easy", he pulled down his pants mooned the crowd, rubbed the microphone up and down his ass crack, then proceeded to sing and lick the microphone. like i said, mental scars.