IPECAC
The return of Mike Patton’s mental metal mothership
WORSHIPPED AND ADORED in a way that most bands are not, Mr. Bungle only released three studio albums during their remorselessly mischievous and leftfield existence. But what albums they were. 1991’s self-titled debut was a dizzying, multi-genre cartoon metal extravaganza that fizzed with anarchic exuberance and bulged with brilliant ideas; 1995’s Disco Volante took a bewildering but enthralling left turn into experimental art rock, surrealism and abstract noise; while 1999’s California combined all of the above with razor-sharp pop hooks and lashings of woozy romanticism. Still best known as the band Mike Patton was fronting when he was frogmarched toward fame and fortune with Faith No More, Mr. Bungle were a bit special. They dispersed 20 years ago, in myriad directions to make vast quantities of weird and wonderful music under innumerable different names. Few thought they would ever return. But as if to prove that 2020 isn’t a total shitshow, they’re back, albeit sounding entirely unlike any of their revered albums. Instead, this is yet another glorious thrash metal record, in a year full of them.