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Testing The Faith Words Chris Watts Photos Mark Leialoha It was never gonna be easy playing bottom of the bill with Guns N Roses and Metallica on a cross-states trek - but for Faith No More it's turned out to be something of a nightmare. Thousand mile bus rides and inter band wrangling's are just the tip of the iceberg: but, as CHRIS WATTS asked when he stowed away in their luggage rack, could Jim Martin's rock n' roll excesses be the straw that breaks the camel's back? It is a fucking massive tour. It is reputedly the hottest North American rock for years. It looks like it. The luxury trek has crossed Europe and most of America. It will grind to a halt this week, and Faith No More will breathe a sigh of relief. It's not easy touring with Guns N' Roses and Metallica. "It's not a rock n roll tour really," muses bassist Bill Gould, surveying the Texas Stadium in Dallas. "It's a mini empire." Some redneck asshole strolls past. His T-shirt says 'Shut Up Stupid Bitch'. Two micro-skirted starf**kers emerge from one of the 40 equipment trucks on the tour, closely followed by two grinning riggers. The girls are clutching passes for Metallica's backstage complex. It's funny. It's not bad going for a bunch of five upstart Californian pranksters. It's okay that Faith No More go on stage at four o'clock in the afternoon and only get to play for 45 minutes. It's okay that they have to drive 1,000 miles to the next gig in a bus when Metallica and Guns N' Roses fly in a privately chartered 747 and DC10 respectively. It's okay that the band are afforded just one paragraph in the local papers. It's okay that the girl in the ticket office of the Houston Astradome has never heard of them, and it's okay that no one seems to be wearing a Faith No More T-shirt. As Jim Martin comments: "People who buy Faith No More T-shirts just don't like to wear them in public!" It might just be okay that Faith No More are the Support Band That AxI forgot. AXL ROSE is invisible but his presence is overwhelming. The backstage outer circle is a heaving paranoia of publicists, lackeys and diplomats. Everybody claims to know the little singer. Well, they've never actually met him, but... GN'R arrive at the stadium mere minutes before they are due on stage. As usual they are late. Slash is the only member of the band to walk to the sprawling arena stage. The rest are driven in a transit van to the stage ramp, emerging with minders in tow, then disappearing into their limos almost before the dying chords of 'Paradise City' have been struck. Axl has only ever spoken to Faith No More once, via tour managers. The surly missive relayed a message that if Mike Patton ever asked the crowd to throw beer at Jim Martin again then the band would be off the tour. The crowd take this as a sign of approval and spend the concert hurting projectiles at anything onstage. Axl doesn't like getting his feet wet. "We've had a few close calls," Patton admits. "We're lucky to still be here." "This tour is like a crowning glory for both headline bands," says Mike 'Puffy' Bordin. "There hasn't been a tour like this for years. We're not used to the atmosphere. To me, the atmosphere is not really conducive to this band playing well. It's like the Village People syndrome. Show Business. Mass entertainment." Bill Gould: "It's difficult playing every night to people who aren't interested in us. Maybe some of them do hate us, but that's cool. If they didn't hate us a little bit we'd feel like we were kissing ass." "I feel like a zoo animal up there," Patton comments. "It's like when you fart in the presence of someone you shouldn't. You laugh. It's like a nervous reaction to the whole scale of things out there. It's embarrassing. "You have to take a certain amount of reality out there with you. We just walk out without an intro tape, in the middle of the afternoon, and play stuff. It's like, 'Here we are, people' Time to start!'. "Basically, we are a small band. We are a pubic hair in Guns N' Roses' shower!" FROM THE stage of the Texas Stadium the crowd looks terrifying. The sound is haphazard, but Faith No More cope. Combating indifference is something that Patton enjoys. This afternoon he rounds on Jim Martin. The singer catches the guitarist throwing a plectrum into the front rows. "Is he throwing shit at you?" Patton asks. The crowd cheer. "I think you have the right to throw shit back at him! This is an open invitation to f**k Jim" "F**k me!" growls Jim, standing alone in the middle of a shower of plastic glasses. Behind the scenes, Faith No More's reputation for personal animosity towards each other is starting to get ugly. The enormous scale of this tour is affecting the band. Their reaction to the "Village People syndrome" differs drastically. Patton, Gould and Roddy Bottum return from a backstage walkabout to discover Jim Martin in heaven. The guitarist is standing on a table, trying to persuade a vacant blonde to remove her top for the camera. The band stride past the couple and slam into their dressing room. Patton's furious. "That is f**king vile!" he shouts. "F**k that! God, what an asshole! I don't want anything to do with that. That sucks! Goddamn it, man! F*'k him. That's Bullshit." "It's kind of a hard thing to say," sighs Roddy, "but that's kind of anti what we're all about. All the bad things about this tour are outside the window right now. It's disgusting. It's ridiculous." "Hey, Jim," Patton sneers, "who are you pandering to? Shit. Next question." WHAT'S WRONG with Jim having his photograph taken with a large breasted female? Bill Gould: "Nothing's wrong with it. It's just such a cheesy way out. It's the easy way out. It's the cliche." But the girl volunteered. She wasn't press-ganged. "But that doesn't mean that we have to go along with it," says Patton. "I cannot take that seriously." Bill Gould tries to rescue the situation. "I think you're right," he says. "That is the real world. To 50,000 people in the audience that is the real world of rock 'n' roll." Roddy doesn't care. "But we've never catered for that in the past, so there's no reason why we should pander to it now." Bill: "And you just know that you're gonna pick that shot for the cover! It's not a true picture of what this band is all about. It is of Jim, sure." This from a band who reputedly tied a groupie to a hotel bed and let their road crew piss on her. "Where did you hear that?" Patton exclaims. From someone she now works with in London. Patton: "WHAT? NO WAY!" "We didn't tie her up," admits Bill. "It wasn't the road crew either. Maybe we just look like the road crew! Anyway, she was in the shower. Jim couldn't piss, which is surprising for the amount of beer he drinks! I never thought we'd hear about that again." Patton: "How did you hear about that stuff?!" Bill: "She didn't mind. I think there's a difference between doing that - for whatever reasons - and doing what Jim is doing outside for the benefit of a photographer. It means different things to Jim than to us. That is exactly what Jim is. Jim is the token rocker in Faith No More!" FOR HIS part. Big Sick Ugly Jim Martin is having a ball. In Houston, the guitarist is reunited with his cousins. Bob, Marie, Robert and Wanda are backstage at the Astradome, obviously thrilled with Jim's performance. They take snapshots and swap stories of the band's first appearance in Houston at the infinitely smaller Warehouse club. Robert has never seen the band perform until tonight, but is nonetheless full of praise. "You can tell Jim is an innovator," he says proudly. I do believe Jim blushes. "We're all copying something." "Bullshit!" retorts Robert affectionately. Over a meal of steak and jacket potatoes, the family are full of good old Texan bonhomie. Jim gets his steak doggy-bagged. Marie worries about the crime rate and Wanda tells this joke about back-masked messages in Country And Western music. "They say if you play Tammy Wynette records backwards, you get your girl back, your car back, your dead mother back, your beer back...!" The table groans. Jim looks happy. JIM IS always happiest when he's got a beer and someone to talk to. He genuinely doesn't give a shit about much. He's playing guitar on the biggest rock tour of his career, and sees nothing wrong with embracing the lifestyle with open arms. "It feels like there's the four of them against the one of me. Whatever opinion I take, I end up as the minority. Sometimes I hate those f**kers." He's not kind in his assessment of FNM. Bill is "Patton's personal thug!". Patton blows with the wind and Puffy, he says, could do with a cold bath. "Look at him now," he says, pointing at the drummer talking to fans at the backstage entrance across a wooden barrier. "Puffy's People! Notice he never crosses that barrier. There's always that barrier to remind us that he is a star." When Puffy and Jim are in the same room together, the atmosphere is icy. "Want a beer, Puffy?" Jim asks. The drummer shakes his dreadlocks. "Why not? You always used to drink. What happened to you, Puffy?" "Nothing, man. I just don't want a beer, okay? I used to drink beer, but I was 14!" He leaves. Jim shrugs and cracks open another can for himself. "See what I mean?" SOMETIMES IT'S difficult to figure out why Jim Martin is still with Faith No More. He recently told Guitarist magazine: "I don't think the difference between the parts they wanted me to play on 'Angel Dust' and the parts I actually played was enough of a difference to affect our careers." Without Jim, Faith No More would be half the band they currently are. Jim Martin is a foil for Patton as well as supplying the killer grunge which has always been at the root of the quintet's sound. Jim Martin is a top geezer. I tell the band that Jim thinks they don't know how to enjoy themselves. "Fine," Puffy snipes, "but we're not alcoholics!" The others cheer. Bill: "We're just from different backgrounds. When Jim first Joined the band, it was kind of an art statement." Patton: "I think Jim should get a medal. Jim works really hard at being the official party animal for Faith No More! He does enough work for all of us. What a guy!" SO THE tour is coming to a close. After each of the most recent concerts, GN'R's crew have been throwing parties for themselves. Last night in Houston they organised 20 strippers. Tonight in Dallas there are rumours of a strip-fest involving 50 girls! Jim tries to manipulate a vote to stay in Dallas. He is unanimously out-voted. "I hope you will go in my place and be my official party delegates!" he grunts. We never did make it. The local reviews praise FNM's performance. The Dallas Fort Worth Star reported that 'there was no great outcry for an encore, which seemed to suit Faith No More just fine'. The same paper is less kind to GN'R. Adjectives like 'self-indulgent' are bandied about. The final verdict? 'The Gunners' show has too many stadium rock touches. Faith No More don't care. Ahead of them are 1 ,000 miles of road before another brief appearance and more audience humiliation. "Our job is just to be ourselves and not to suck corporate dick," says Patton. "But I'm looking forward to playing the smaller venues on our own tour after this. I just can't imagine this band becoming as big as Metallica. I don't think I'd enjoy it. "This tour is not a real thing. The best thing about it is that at the end we can all just pack up and walk away. from it. The other bands on the bill have to live with it."

Roddy Bottum will be taking part in a live Q&A and also signing copies of his new book The Royal We: A Memoir on Tuesday October 28th at Rough Trade in London. Roddy's first book is released via Akashic Books on November 7th and will be available in all major bookstores. THE ROYAL WE is a poetic survey of a time set in a magical city that once was and is no more. It is a memoir written by Roddy Bottum, a musician and artist, that documents through prose his coming of age and out of the closet in 1980s San Francisco, a charged era of bicycle messengers, punk rock, street witches, wheatgrass, and rebellion. The book follows his travels from Los Angeles, growing up gay with no role models, to San Francisco, where he formed Faith No More and went on to tour the world relentlessly, surviving heroin addiction and the plight of AIDS, to become a queer icon. The book is an elevated wallop of tongue and insight, much more than a tell-all. There are personal tales of historical pinnacles like Kurt and Courtney, Guns N’ Roses, and recaps of gold records and arena rock—but it’s the testimonies of tragedy and addiction and preposterous life-spins that make this work so unique and intriguing. Bottum writes about his dark and harrowing past in a clear-eyed voice that is utterly devoid of self-pity, and his emboldened and confident pronouncements of achievement and unorthodox heroism flow in an unstoppable train that’s both captivating and inspirational. A remarkable portrayal of a creative individual in emergence, a gay man figuring out how to be a gay man, and a detailed look at the nuance of 1980s pre–tech boom San Francisco, The Royal We will be greatly appreciated by people who loved Kathleen Hanna’s Rebel Girl, Patti Smith’s Just Kids, Hua Hsu’s Stay True, and other memoirs about the artist’s life. Tickets for the London event are £20 and available HERE.

The Avett Brothers Join Forces with Mike Patton for New Album AVTT/PTTN , Due Out November 14 via Thirty Tigers, Ramseur Records and Ipecac Recordings. Listen to the lead single Eternal Love below. Crackerfarm In one of the year’s most surprising and electrifying collaborations, Scott and Seth Avett of The Avett Brothers have teamed up with Mike Patton, legendary frontman of Faith No More and Mr. Bungle , to form AVTT/PTTN . Their new album of original songs, written by the three artists together and produced by Patton, Scott Avett, and Grammy-winning engineer Dana Nielsen (Metallica, Rihanna), is set for release on November 14 via Thirty Tigers in association with Ramseur Records and Ipecac Recordings, with the first single Eternal Love available today HERE . What began as a casual exchange of admiration soon grew into a genuine creative partnership. The Avetts and Patton, longtime mutual fans, found themselves trading songs and ideas across coasts, with each sketch evolving as it passed through the trio’s hands. “This is what art is,” Scott reflects. “This is what making is supposed to be: in secret and with no ambition.” For the Avetts, working with Patton was more than just a new collaboration — it was a full-circle moment. “Mike’s part of our DNA, like the fabric of our youth,” says Scott. “Literally, we studied him. He’s a dear friend now, but when we were younger, I was imitating him.” Patton adds, “My peculiar challenge in this was to become a long distant cousin. A brother that was orphaned. Maybe they kept him in the chicken coop or some shit. They brought him out years and years later.” The album opens with the gentle acoustic guitar of Dark Night of My Soul , where Patton’s seasoned croon merges with the Avetts’ voices for a rich three-part harmony. Elsewhere, the scuzzy stomp of the folk classic The Ox Driver’s Song and the driving fuzz of Heaven’s Breath push the Avetts into new sonic terrain, while showcasing Patton’s trademark dynamic range. Each track reflects the unusual way the record was built — songs sketched by Scott, reshaped by Patton, and then reimagined again with Seth — a process that gave the music its distinct character and balance. What emerged from this partnership is more than just a side project— it’s a collision of worlds. AVTT/PTTN is Scott, Seth, and Mike at their most adventurous, writing and singing together without boundaries, and carving out a space that’s entirely their own. Pre-order / pre-save AVTT/PTTN (out November 14, 2025) HERE.

Recording your debut album is a really momentous occasion in a musician's career. Can you remember how you felt playing the vinyl record for the first time? Yes, it was a massive thrill. It was the time we were able to put out something that was a full album, recorded in a nice studio, and having a label behind us. Great times and it sounded great to my ears then. The story is that FNM pooled their resources to record some demos, and that those demos were noticed by Mordam who then helped pay for time at Prairie Sun in Cotati to record the full album. Is that true or were some of those demos used on the final album? Yes, this is exactly what happened. We were into our songs but the demos we made weren’t really connecting with people. I had this idea that maybe if we could get enough money to record 4 or 5 tracks people could have a better picture of what we were actually shooting for. As it turns out, Ruth Schwartz from Mordam heard those tracks, which ended up being the album’s side one…! You recorded WCAL in a very short space of time and with little budget. Do you think these limitations helped to create a more authentic sound to the album of what FNM were at the time? I’m not sure about that, we were all very green… even Matt Wallace, who was the technician among us, was green too when it came to a 24 track studio. There are probably things we could have done better, but at the same time I think that the performances were pretty damned good. And that had to do with us keeping focused and needing to work within those budget restrictions. We rehearsed quite a lot before we went in to record, so we were ready. Roddy Bottum has described the band temperament at the time as 'us against the world'. Is that how it felt to you? A kind of 6 musketeers ( including Matt ) thing? Well, I would say that’s basically true. I had some issues with Chuck even then, but I felt like we all gave our best. Even now you guys still include songs from the album in your set. As The Worm Turns is a fan favourite, more so than We Care A Lot . Can you tell us more about this song and why you think it remains so popular? I don’t really know, it just has a natural flow to it… And it doesn’t seem to age the way some of the other songs have when it comes to playing them live. The album also showcases other FNM characteristics: Your humour, sarcasm and attitude. This suggests that the band's approach to making music hasn't really changed all that much in 30 years. Would you agree? I would totally agree. In many ways our approach is the same…we just try to be us. The tribal rhythms that make Puffy's style so unique can be heard very clearly on WCAL. In fact these songs are some of the most rhythmic in FNM's catalogue. Was this heartbeat of the band something you were particularly keen on expressing? Well, yes I suppose. One of the things that spearheaded us playing music together came from Puffy’s African lessons he took at school. It opened a lot of doors for him, and for us as well. And it felt good to play to. There are also moments of that specific tone you perfected over the next two albums. Did you use an Aria guitar for the recording? No, WCAL was recorded with a Gibson Grabber. Not the best sounding bass, it eventually broken in half on tour (!!). What makes the sound similar was the Peavey amp and cabinet that I used on every album up to the Real Thing. Actually, I continued to use the cabinet all the way up to Album of the Year…. There are a lot of similarities between WCAL and Sol Invictus , did you actually use the 1985 album as reference? Did you think 'this time lets go back to our roots' or did just turn our that way? I think it just turned out that way. It’s something that felt right…it felt familiar, but not self-consciously. I believe yourself and Mike Patton have used the great metaphor that listening to your own albums is like looking back on baby photos. How does WCAL sound to you 30 years on? Like the 80’s :) Seriously, just recently I found some old tapes in my attic and had them transferred, some of them were masters from this recording session. I have to say, they sounded really good! It surprised me, and made me look at these 20 year old idiots with a bit more respect, ha ha!!

Mr. Bungle performed their last two shows of the California tour before a twenty year hiatus in the UK. The first was at the Astoria in London, the second was at Rock City in Nottingham. Hiroyuki Ito Kerrang! | 23 September 2000 | Simon Young Every musical genre put in a blender and served up by Mike Patton's mob. KKK WHEN EUREKA, a small Californian town, burped out Mr Bungle in 1985 - a High School band who took their bizarre monicker from a children's educational programme concerning bad habits - no one expected their baby-faced singer Michael Patton to go on to front one of the world's greatest bands, Faith No More. But it wasn't until after FNM had imploded that Patton turned Mr Bungle into a truly interesting unit. Meanwhile he also created uneasy listening, avant-garde noise on the side, with the Fantômas, a band he formed with the Melvins' Buzz Osbourne and erstwhile Slayer skin pounder Dave Lombardo. Mr Bungle have now churned out three albums - their self-titled debut, 'Disco Volante' and last year's 'California'. Seven musicians - alto saxophonist Theo Lengyel, tenor saxophonist/ clarinetist Clinton McKinnon, guitarist Trey Spruance, bassist Trevor Dunn, drummer Danny Heifetz and the rotund William Winant, a man Patton introduces as "the Winston Churchill of percussion" — wander onto the stage, immediately confounding the audience's expectations by launching into a sublime version of 'What The World Needs Now' by Burt Bacharach, sending shivers of excitement throughout the venue. And from then on it gets even more surreal, as Mr Bungle roll into 'My Ass Is On Fire', 'Desert Search For Techno Allah', 'Air Conditioned Nightmare' and a cacophonous blend of musical styles including Turkish pop, jazz, death metal and honest to goodness rock. Patton's voice is amazing, even mimicking the high-pitched shrieking associated with Bollywood musicals. While he commands presence on the stage cohorts (including Dunn who is dressed in 'Heidi-style' garb), the stop-start dynamics start to get frustrating. So much so, a constant rain of beer cans narrowly miss his contorting frame. That said, LA2 was the original choice of venue for tonight's show, and the upgrade to its bigger brother is testament to the ongoing popularity of Patton, with many punters wandering around in vintage FNM T-shirts, eager to catch a glimpse of the voice behind 'Falling To Pieces' and 'Digging The Grave'. But tonight's show is not about nostalgia. It's about music. But it's music of the weirdest, most confusing kind. Set List What The World Needs Now Is Love None Of Them Knew They Were Robots The Air-Conditioned Nightmare Carry Stress In The Jaw Ars Moriendi I Feel For You Travolta Ei Raat Tomar Amar My Ass Is On Fire Retrovertigo Goodbye Sober Day Tower Of Strength Desert Search For Techno Allah Metti, Una Sera A Cena Merry Go Bye Bye

On September 14th 1993 Judgment Night - Music From The Motion Picture was released, it featured the Faith No More & Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. track Another body Murdered . During the early 90s the music press desperately tried to label the hybrid styles of alternative bands with tags such as funk-metal  or rap-metal.  It is true that the genre busting sounds of certain bands made it difficult to categorise, however these tags were more relevant for particular songs rather than bands. In 1986 Aerosmith  joined up with Run DMC  to record a rap-rock version of the classic song Walk This Way  and in 1987 Anthrax  and Public Enemy  released Bring The Noise .  In 1993 this fusion of the rock / rap genres was taken to the next level with the soundtrack to the film Judgment Night . The movie is an 'urban suspense drama ' starring Emilio Estevez , Denis Leary , Cuba Goading Jr. , and House Of Pain 's Everlast . Judgment Night OST  was the brainchild of Happy Walters , the then president of Immortal Records and manager of hip-hop bands such as House Of Pain and Cypress Hill .  "Since I manage Everlast, it sort of came ta pass that [my record label] would handle the Soundtrack." The idea for a set cross-pollinating alternative noise with rap expression grew out of Walters’ realization that "a lot of alternative artists dig hip-hop and a lot of hip-hop artists like alternative. It kind of made sense to do something that brings the [two teen genres] together." The process of translating his vision into reality took six months to complete. It Involved hard planning and heavy negotiations. "First I had to get a hold of the managers and get them excited about the project. Once that was achieved the artists also had to be stirred. Next the labels had to give their permission to be on the album. Then the artist’s publishers had to grant sync fees and licenses for the off." Walters says he succeeded with help from other artist managers linked to the project. To assist the creativity of the performers, who recorded from locales all over the world. Walters says he provided them scenes from the movie complete with notes explaining the shots. The task of 'spotting '(selecting where songs would be used) was carried out by Karen Rachnian , music supervisor for the film's producer, Largo Entertainment. "Sonic Youth, Helmet, their managers were super supportive. Helmet was super into it. Faith No More was really into it. Those three, I think, were the first ones to come on board, which were all credible and cool at the time, which helped with others." Faith No More  were paired up with Samoan gangster outfit Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E.  In late July of 93 FNM had finished a two year long tour supporting their album Angel Dust , this time had allowed the band to push the boundaries of their music further than ever before. However there were casualties as Jim Martin  became alienated by the band's new direction.  Therefore only four members of the FNM (Patton, Gould, Bottum and Bordin) flew out to L.A to attend a recording session with Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E.  "We didn’t know the Boo-Yaa guys before we did the collaboration…in fact, we met at the studio. They were all great musicians in their own right, and what was surprising is that we clicked immediately on a musical level. Once the instruments were set up, we proceed to do a probably 30 minute jam, which I have to say was excellent. Sadly, the engineers thought we were just soundchecking. So we did another, for probably another 30 minutes straight. It was also really good, maybe not quite the same as the first attempt, but great nonetheless. However, as luck would have it, the producer had forgotten to hit “record”.  The music on this soundtrack came from our 3rd attempt, which turned out ok, but sadly probably the least interesting of the three takes." - Bill Gould 2018 The Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E group leader Ted The Godfather Devoux , who sadly passed away on April 28th 2018 from an extended illness, said.  "Hopefully, this will open up more opportunities for groups like mine to tour with Metallica and Guns n' Roses. And it gives us a little edge on the rap scene. Our scene is, we always try to make our own music and then loop it." -  Samoan Godfather 1993 The song Another Body Murdered  was written by Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E. and FNM with Bill playing guitar, it was produced by both bands and  Ghetto Guerillas .  ABM  was chosen as the second promotional single to be released from the soundtrack, and an accompanying video was filmed and directed by Marcus Raboy  (FNM would also use him for their next video, Digging The grave ). Oral History of the ‘Judgment Night’ Soundtrack: 1993’s Rap-Rock Utopia "I went to Samoa to record some singers, just on my own. And the thing about Samoa is that they do this a cappella music, they grow up with it, it’s beautiful. It’s like five-point harmony, incredible stuff. I just asked, “Can you get ahold of Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.? Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. are these Samoan guys, I bet they can sing like motherfuckers." - Bill " The Samoan national anthem is actually really, really cool. So we worked up a version of the Samoan national anthem. I was like, “Yeah, let’s not do rock-rap, let’s do something else!” We worked the whole thing up and we played it for ’em and they just, like, laughed. They literally laughed in our faces." - Patton “Eh … That’s lame [laughs]. Why don’t you just come over here and bring your instruments and let’s make some noise?” Boo-Yaa, they all play instruments, they’re all musicians, which I didn’t realize. The bass player was really good! Jim [Martin, Faith No More guitarist] wasn’t really interested in going. Our guitar player wasn’t there, and I just said, “Let me start playing guitar first since you play bass.” We went into this jam that lasted about a half an hour. It was insane. It was like we totally clicked. It was like the most incredible jam. And then the producer came out and said, “OK, you guys ready to record now?” So we did it again. We did this jam, it was another half-hour’s worth. And it turns out he didn’t hit the record button. And then lunch came, and we got Thai food and everybody got really full [laughs] and then we went to do it again. And what actually made it on Judgment Night was from the third jam. They all had guns on the mixing console. And the producer was trying to move the guns. The guy [Vincent] Rook [Devoux] in the band, he was about 6 foot 5, 6 foot 6. Probably about 380 pounds. And he had this gun that dwarfed his hand. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was this pistol, but it was so fuckin’ big. I don’t know what the fuck it was. And we were playing and he was, like, pointing it through the glass and stuff [laughs]. We hit it off so well [on] a musical level, like at the end of it, we were like really close friends. We were tight! I think that we talked about [touring together] and it didn’t work out."  - Bill "For as mean as they look, they were super sweet."  - Patton

Faith No More returned to Chile on the King For Day Tour on 8 September 1995. They joined Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper, Megadeth and Therapy? on the line-up at Monsters Of Rock in Santiago. Victor Luis Caballero '...due to their characteristics may make one think that they are not capable of producing anything other than debauchery and violence, but if you listen carefully their capacity becomes evident.' Adrian Harte dedicated a full chapter in his book Small Victories to the Chile connection. The spitting started straight away. By the third song, ‘Midlife Crisis’, Patton’s T-shirt was damp with saliva. Ten songs in—a cover of Portishead’s ‘Glory Box’—and the singer was showered in spittle, his face and shaved head dripping with saliva. Was this a more extreme version of the Viña del Mar opprobrium? It was merely tradition. Since the early 80s, performers at hard rock shows had been spat at, in a regional variation of the gobbing at 70s punk shows. It usually did not go down well. Axl Rose stormed offstage when spat on in Santiago in 1992, and then Iron Maiden singer Blaze Bailey cut a song short after he was spat at in 1996. Patton embraced it. During ‘Midlife’, he opened his mouth wide and pointed inside, directing the spitters to their target. During ‘Glory Box’, he picked a spit globule from his temple and tasted it. ‘It was such a disgusting display of honour,’ Bottum notes, ‘but I remember all of us were really into the spit.’ Gould adds, ‘That was a high energy show we gave them. It was September 11, so it was the anniversary of the coup. People were really jacked up, and we fed off of that. People liked to spit. We were totally fine with that. He had no problem with that. He did what he had to do.’ This is a section from Faith No More y Chile a fantastic book by Jocelyn Jara Osorio. Él más que repudiar eso, lo abrazó y fue como: "Tirenme pollos, me da lo mismo". Eso me llamó harto la atención de él. Billy Gould: El quería asustar a la audiencia más de lo que ellos lo asustaban a él. Puede ser. Pero no puedo hablar por él, porque yo no hice eso. Fernando Mujica: O sea, piensa que Mike Patton, cuando le tiraban pollos, el huevón abría la boca para que le tiraran más. Estábamos hasta el lolly. Juan Carlos "Lobo" Araneda: Demostró que era un cochino más, y pese a lo asqueroso que es el recuerdo, hubo una cercanía, el decir: "Escúpanme, soy de ustedes!". Y creo que de ahí viene la real conexión con la gente chilena. Alfredo Lewin: Mike Patton barrió con el código del escupo y lo tiró de vuelta. Nunca habíamos visto algo como eso. Rodrigo "Don Rorro" Osorio: Era realmente una explosión y una irreverencia total, y que a la gente le gustaba mucho, disfrutaba mucho de eso, que Mike Patton se volviera loco. Fernando "Kirk" Fuenzalida: A Mike Patton lo taparon a escupos. Nunca lo voy a olvidar. Felipe Arratia: Con Faith No More pasó una cosa muy inesperada para el público, Mike Patton, lejos de horrorizarse, redoblaba la apuesta y la respondía de vuelta, dejando a la multitud impactada, e inevitablemente construyó un código en común. David Ponce: Yo me acuerdo que Mike Patton abría la boca y sacaba la lengua, como para encajar los escupos de la gente. Todo un performer. Un loco que se puso en sintonía con lo peor de lo que le llegó del público, y en este caso, ¿qué es peor que escupos? Creo que es un manso gesto. Me llamó caleta la atención. Es abolir toda clase de buen gusto. veían como 360°, había gente atrás del escenario, no cabía nadie, en ese entonces podía albergar 6.500 o 7.000 personas. Era como el tema de los estadios, no estaba muy bien regulado. Billy Gould: Todos en la audiencia estaban realmente tensos. Había mucha energía en el teatro. Y recuerdo que sentimos esa energía y la devolvimos de la misma forma. Fue un espectáculo extremadamente agresivo. Carlos Costas: La intensidad que hubo con Faith No More fue heavy. De hecho, yo quedé en la parte de arriba de la galería del teatro, y con algún grado de preocupación, vi el show agarrado de un fierro, porque desde ahí hay una pendiente muy brusca, y la gente de verdad estaba loca. Yo decía: "Chuta, aquí me van a empujar y me voy para abajo" porque estábamos como colgando. Fui con un amigote a ver el show y no lo podíamos creer. Francisco "Pancho" Reinoso: Mucho caos, gente saltando de la galería a la cancha. Sergio "Cucho" Córdova: Tengo ese recuerdo que estaba el teatro muy intenso. Tocó Paradise Lost y yo ya estaba adentro, en platea alta, y vi cómo mucha gente se pasaba de ahí a cancha. Muchos saltando hacia abajo, y yo, entre el ímpetu del concierto, o de la juventud, o de las cajitas de vino, me tiré porque quería ver a Faith No More full abajo. David Ponce: Estaba llenísimo el Caupolicán. Era bien impresionante. Me acuerdo de la platea entera saltando. Increíble cómo se manifestaba ya en esos años, que el rock tenía un público súper fuerte en Chile. Francisco "Pancho" Reinoso: Y Faith No More era la intensidad máxima, era una experiencia totalmente al límite, en el sentido de que la gente estaba vuelta loca. Estaba bastante sobrevendido el Monumental, y Faith No More recuerdo que sonó muy pero muy fuerte. Yo salté de galería a cancha, eso se hacía mucho, no lo pude hacer para Iron Maiden, era más chico, creo que estaba en segundo medio. Salté porque llegué más tarde y la cancha estaba rebalsada, típico que la gente te ayudaba a que bajaras. Un amigo, me acuerdo que, para un show de Sepultura, se esguinzó el tobillo. Sergio "Cucho" Córdova: Me lancé a cancha y había una parte con unas latas, donde generalmente la gente apoyaba los pies, y yo acelera- do, me lancé rápido y en vez de poner los pies, me agarré con las manos y me las corté. Tenía todas las manos ensangrentadas, y estuve todo el show de Faith No More sangrando. Me saqué la camiseta y me hice una especie de venda. Muy intenso todo. Y además venían con el disco que más me gusta, el King for a Day... Fool for a Lifetime que lo escuché mucho. Fue el medio show, y más encima esta cosa personal que me había pasado, y que me quedó marcada en los recuerdos y en las manos por las cicatrices que me quedaron. En esa época estudiaba Diseño, y estuve sin poder trabajar un tiempo, por las vendas que me pusieron. Francisco "Pancho" Reinoso: Hay muchas historias interesantes y bastante distorsionadas de esos conciertos, y yo me acuerdo perfecto de todas las bandas, de las siete bandas del Monster of Rock 95, fue increíble. Me gustó todo. Quizás yo no estaba tan inmerso en lo de Ozzy y Paradise Lost, pero sí había escuchado un poquito Clawfinger, y Faith No More y Megadeth eran las bandas que yo fui a ver, de hecho, ese fue mi primer concierto de Megadeth, porque no fui el 94. Billy Gould: Recuerdo los pollos. No me lo esperaba. Había oído algunas cosas sobre eso, pero Chile fue el único país en que nos pasó. Francisco "Pancho" Reinoso: Obviamente, la graduación de la banda, con lo que fue el inicio "oficial" de la pattonmanía, es con el intercambio de escupitajos, esas prácticas nefastas que ocurrían en nuestra transición cultural, por decirlo de alguna forma, en los 90. César Tudela: Existe esta especie de mística o de alianza con la banda, en el sentido de que el show de Monsters of Rock, es un hito tam- bién dentro de la historia del grupo por este tema poco agradable de los pollos.

On September 6 1990 the MTV Video Music Awards celebrated music videos of the year. The show was broadcast live from LA on MTV and hosted by Arsenio Hall. Ralph Domingez Faith No More 's video for Falling To Pieces directed by Ralph Ziman was nominated in the category of Best Metal/Hard Rock Video along with Aerosmith, Motley Crue and Slaughter - Aerosmith won the award. FNM performed Epic live on the show as did INXS, Phil Collins, Aerosmith, MC Hammer and Madonna. Patton was also interviewed by host ' Funk rock band Faith No More lit up the amphitheatre with an electric performance of their smash hit 'Epic'. Singer Mike Patton violently jumped around with a severed hand tucked in his pants before laying on the stage and jerking around like he was having a seizure.' - Spin 1990

Faith No More 's North American tour in support of Sol Invictus was ten years ago. FNM began their Sol Invictus  tour in Japan and Australia, they returned to the USA for the first time since October 1997 in April 2015. After this they toured in Europe and the UK before returning to the USA and Canada for a second leg. The band appear on the TV show Jimmy Kimmel Live! on September 3rd.

Faith No More 's North American tour in support of Sol Invictus was ten years ago. FNM began their Sol Invictus tour in Japan and Australia, they returned to the USA for the first time since October 1997 in April 2015. After this they toured in Europe and the UK before returning to the USA and Canada for a second leg. The twelfth date was under the pseudonym Lump on Thursday September 3rd at The Troubadour, Los Angeles. L.A. Record “How did you guys find out about this show?” inquired Mike Patton of Faith No More who just happened to play the tiny Troubadour on Thursday night. This divided the crowd into Tweeters and non-Tweeters as bassist Billy Gould and keyboardist Roddy Bottum appeared to be big tweeters and said they might have leaked it. Only diehard fans were in attendance for this special special show as word leaked out on the band’s Facebook page and word of mouth. The band “LUMP” was posted as playing before the official announcement. After an appearance earlier on Jimmy Kimmel, Faith No More played a midnight show for eager and grateful fans. Instead of an opening band (who no one would have wanted to endure) Neil Hamburger dazzled us with his dare-to-go-there humor and his love for Gene Simmons. As FNM took the stage, it was looking like casual Thursday (according to Bottum) as the guys sported shorts and t-shirts as opposed to looking debonair in their usual suit attire. Patton had a police jacket on that was taken off early and thankfully. There were no beautiful flowers on stage. No gimp! Whaaaa? Just a lot of instruments, sneakers and sweat. The entire band was in good spirits. It was weird for everyone. It was glorious madness. Patton crowd surfed many times and ended up on the bar in the back with, unfortunately, a shot of Jack Daniels. Almost the entire Sol Invictus album was played along with highlight “Be Aggressive” and after a band meeting, ending with “As The Worm Turns.” Grimy Goods Taylor I’mma let you finish, but Faith No More just had one of the best shows in big-act-playing-in-small-venue history. Ageless. Timeless. Invictus. Faith No More proved their staying power by getting up close, sweaty and way too personal with 300 fortunate fuckers last night. The band dished out heart attack inducing energy levels, deafening amps, and they played like it was their first and last concert ever. When you watch Faith No More you don’t go back in time, there is no time, they sound just as fresh, fast and fucking flawless as they did when I first saw them in the 90’s in my hometown in Brazil. During that time, me and some friends were lucky enough to spend an afternoon with Mike Patton and I have to say that after seeing him again 20 years later, his realness, weirdness and complete dedication to musicianship remains the same. Oh, and his oversized cargo shorts and Air Jordans are probably the same too. Roddy Bottum, sporting a Tom of Finland tee alerted the crowd, “This is the first time we play without our stage “uniforms” in 21 years and it feels good.” Casual and relaxed. The band dressed like they were playing a living room gig. But they played like they were in a goddam arena. No room for nostalgia on their set list. The first six songs hit the crowd like a geyser of sound and to my surprise they were all straight off their latest album SOL INVICTUS. “From the Dead”, “Matador” were pretty solid, but their new hit “Motherfucker” really got things going and got Patton plunging off the stage three consecutive times like an angry teenager at a hardcore show. He just kept bouncing back from the crowd to the stage throughout the show, harder and stronger, pretty much his career in a nutshell. After the obligatory new album sequence and when you thought they were gonna throw in some hits and make it an easy ride for themselves, they kicked it into full gear and performed some of the most interesting, musically challenging songs of their career. “Caffeine”, “Midlife Crisis” and “Ashes to Ashes” were the most impressive of the bunch. And the cherry on top, for me at least, was listening to their graceful non-ironic cover of the Bee Gees’ anthem “I started a Joke”, followed by the classic “We Care a Lot”. On the set list, it said they were going to close with “Epic” and “From out of nowhere”, but by the time they finished “Worm”, the band and pretty much everyone in the room knew that this show, this motherfucking magical moment in time, was already epic enough and they decided to cut it short and cut everyone loose from this dizzying, electrical shock that was this secret show of theirs. You know, these days there’s a lot of talk of artistry in music or the lack there of and I never once saw Faith No More being mentioned by other artists or in those articles. And I know, they don’t give a rats ass about it, but in all honesty, we should. Revolver Set List From the Dead Matador Motherfucker Black Friday Rise of the Fall Cone of Shame Separation Anxiety Superhero Sol Invictus Caffeine Be Aggressive Midlife Crisis interlude Boz Scaggs "Lowdown" The Gentle Art of Making Enemies Ashes to Ashes Just a Man I Started a Joke (Bee Gees) We Care a Lot As the Worm Turns

The Slings and Arrows of Faith No More Steffan Chirazi You wouldn't expect it to be any other way. Chaos is abundant, voices are constantly being raised, people are destroying their apartments in anger, and the music is wickedly diverse and loopy. "There will be no middle ground for this album," states FNM bassist Bill Gould. "It's either gonna be absolutely huge, or it'll bomb wildly, be a total fucking flop." Faith No More are mixing their fourth album, Angel Dust. The whole lot of them are fretting over nothing, guitarist Jim Martin's been in the doghouse since before Christmas, and the inner turmoil the band has always been eager to dismiss as "media hype" in the past is a huge, dirty fact, inescapable and intrinsic to FNM's work. They need to piss each other off, and manage to in consistently fine fashion. In a small dive bar around the corner from San Francisco's Coast Recorders, Bill Gould, keyboardist Roddy Bottom, producer Matt "Beanhead" Wallace and I sit at a table, drinking cheap beers and engaging in cheap talk. I first ask them about the pressure involved in following up a hugely successful album. "Everyone's pretty much left us alone," sighs Roddy. "I think it was from ourselves more than anybody else. The record company and management were worried about what we were going to do, but they kept their worries from us." "In the past we've always stuck together because we were totally broke and we needed to put out another album for the union scale money," furthers Gould. "After this last tour we split and went our separate ways, and we haven't been in any real rush to get back together. Part of the pressure in the past was economic adversity, being stuck with these people and knowing you had to stick with them because it was your only way out." Isn't there pressure to avoid doing the same record you did last time, taking the easy option? "No, no," Gould continues. "That was easy, because we were sick of doing that stuff. We'd just toured it for the last two years, so we knew we didn't want that." So when it came to putting the material together for this album, you tended to keep it as far as possible from what was expected? "I don't know if you can think about it like that," says the fired-up little Gould. "You just get sick of doing something for a year-and-a-half, and reading--look, even if you don't pay attention to what they say, this whole 'funk metal' thing is really disgusting. The last thing I ever want to be in is a funk-metal band. So it's not like we're gonna try to do exactly the opposite, just anything except that, y'know." People will still want to hear the old songs live, though. "But those are just songs," Gould emphasizes. "They're not funk metal--fuck that! It's a disgusting label for a band, and I would say that any band that plays funk metal, I hate. I would safely say that most of the band feels the same way." When it comes to Mike Patton's lyrics, do you get involved? Do you want to know what he's writing about? "We pretty much leave it to him," says Roddy. "I mean, that's his job in the band. Everyone has their input, and words are his." "He's really into his words," Gould adds, "and as long as he's into them..." You don't care? "No, I do care," Roddy adds quickly. "I care what he sings about, sure. He's probably gonna get a lot of flak this time around for what he's singing about. He's gonna offend a lot of people, and I think it's great. I think if singers wanna do something like that, then they should be able to, in the same way that actors who take on really sleazy roles don't get shit for it, don't get shit for portraying some sort of derelict, bad person." What songs could be considered offensive? "Well, I wrote some good lyrics for him on one song, which he'll probably get some flak for," Roddy says. "It's about swallowing." Time to cough. "It's more along the lines of a character thing," he continues. "It's not even about offending anyone. It's just trying out different characters and being challenging." "Characters can be offensive to people, but entertainment as a medium really can't be offensive, because it's aesthetics," Gould explains. "It can't be wrong or right, only offensive or inoffensive." How has the writing come together? Have you found that you've been bitching at each other like you always do? "Some things are easier than before," says Gould. "Actually, it was a lot harder when I think about it." "Jim's getting a lot more comfortable with the songs now," furthers Roddy. "He's uncomfortable rehearsing the songs with us. He'd rather have a tape of the finished product and work on it at home. He likes separating and doing it by himself." "It makes for a weird tension," Gould says. "You visualize everything, including the guitar, when you write the song, and then it comes back different from your perception. I guess if the person isn't there from day one, they can't be expected to read your mind." It seems like you lot always bicker like grannies at the bus stop. "Yeah, it's just another manifestation of the same old story," Gould sighs. "It'll all work out though." Leaving the bar, I track down the aforementioned Mr. Martin, ace guitarist and sometimes grouch. He's more than ready to offer up his thoughts on the new album. First off, has it been a plesant experience, recording and all? "Absolutely not. It's been an unpleasant experience from the very beginning," Jim says. "It's been very unpleasant, which is not really much different from my experience in making records with FNM before. It's always been an unpleasant experience--a lot of people scrambling to get henchmen on their side, to play silly games, to blow smoke on a situation, to diffuse situations, amplifying situations that don't exist, manipulationg others..." That's always been the way things are, huh? "More than ever now." Is it pressure showing itself? "I'm not sure if it's that, or if it's more one's desire to be a teen idol. Things really don't seem that much different. It's a little worse, because certain members of the band seem worried." You're not worried about things though, right? "No, not at this point. I was at one point. There was a problem, because everyone seemed so frightened, I wondered if we'd be able to do anything. At this point there's no worry on my part at all though." How is it that you don't work with the rest of the band in person when writing and rehearsing? "Because usually I have to drive a long way. I get there, and we'll play something, then all of a sudden someone decides they wanna leave, or somebody decides they're not having a nice day, or whatever. They decide they wanna blow it off, and I've driven all that way to get there. I dunno. I'm not to agreeable to begin with, so that stokes the flames a bit." How do you view the band's musical direction? "I'm just trying to play these songs the way I see 'em, the way it should go. It's not like we're trying to do anything 'different'. We're not reinventing ourselves, I'll tell you that. Anything we play will pretty much sound like us, if y'know what I mean, so don't let any of that 'doing something new' bullshit creep in, because that's a load of fucking crap!" Without this pushing and shoving, though, FNM would cease to exist, right? "I dunno, man, I guess so. It's the nature of the beast. As long as these people are around, that's the way it is. Some people are spoiled, filthy, little brats with rich parents. They've been handed everything on a golden platter." Be careful, Jim. They could just as easily sling mud back at you. "That's bullshit! Anybody can say anything. Anybody can sling shit at anybody they want! What's the point of doing the interview? Come on, guy! But it's pretty much that guys sometimes act like spoiled children, and this is an industry and a job that encourages and permits that sort of behavior." Thank goodness they hate each other right now, because that just means things are clunking along like they always have. And if they sometimes seem like monkeys trapped in a cage, tossing shit and screeching at each other, well, you know the old saying, "If it ain't broke..."

"You wanna know a great way to get even with somebody?" Faith No More singer Mike Patton asks. It's a sunny afternoon in San Francisco, and we're seated at La Cumbre, one of the hippest Mexican restaurants in town. "My particular vengeance was against a business that had f***ed me over really bad,"  the 24-year-old continues. Today, his muscular six-foot frame is housed in work boots, skater shorts and a service station attendant's shirt that reads, 'Ron, Service Station Attendant'. He waves his arms for emphasis and speaks in a booming bass voice that makes the other cantina patrons a bit nervous.  "So one morning, see, I woke up, ate an entire burrito, drank a half-pint of rum, downed some castor oil, then drank some Ipecac syrup, which takes about half an hour to work. Then I walked down to this business, and I'd timed it perfectly." Suddenly the food in front of me doesn't look so hot. I swallow the last bite and brace myself: 'Uh, barforama?' "Yeah! This place had a nice, clear counter and no janitor either It kinda backfired, though, because I took too much castor oil, which coats the stomach, so not a lot of food came up. But a lot of blood did, though!" A few heads turn to look disgustedly at Patton, who's now cackling. If they'd look closer, the lunchers might recognise him as the guy who rolled around onstage In furry pants while Faith No More plumbed out the power chords to their US Top 5 hit. Epic, on an MTV awards show. In the UK, where the raucously eclectic Angel Dust has just been released, the band's popularity has been on the up and up since Patton joined them in '89 for their third album, The Real Thing.  First discovered in his tiny California hometown of Eureka, idling with his Mr Bungle outfit, the singer has become a commanding showman and a meteoric vocal presence for Faith No More, his outrageous outlook melding perfectly with the grainy, funky raunchy rock the group had patented since forming in 1982 as a 'hippie-hate' band.  Patton still records and performs with Mr Bungle. In fact, in a fit of bacchanalian excess at a New Year's Eve show in San Francisco last year he gave himself an onstage enema. Patton says, "I heard the crowd got a nice little spray but I didn't see it because I was bent over." Why such extreme measures? "Hey, it was a nice, dirty show, a lot of dirty people, everything was dirty. So why not have a little clean segment - wash out myself, wash out the audience...?" When Mike Patton drops the scatology and starts sounding logical, there's bound to be a big, walloping, wrecking ball sailing your way. And Angel Dust is its crushing crane. Given that the self confessed caffeine junkie Patton "came in at a really strange point on the last record, when all the music was written, so I just threw some lyrics on top of it" the maturity he displays on this effort is downright electrifying. Through 13 strikingly diverse numbers he snaps, snarls, gargles, growls, wails and warbles, producing a schizo persona for each track.  His small-town upbringing came in handy. "In Eureka you drink so much coffee, you try and make believe there's something to do, he says, remembering his hometown as being comprised of 'hippies and loggers'. "Faith No More played in Eureka, and I can't believe they came. No bands came there. But here they were, in their shitty van, all rotten and stoned, and I gave 'em a tape of Mr Bungle. They liked the tape and called me up." Now, with Angel Dust building on the success of The Real Thing, Patton and his mates have entered the big league. They can call their own shots at a major label, land slots on top-drawing tours and feel free to develop their music. But at what price?  "When you enter the music business, you essentially become a prostitute, and anyone who denies that is full of shit," Patton says.  When it comes to his craft, though, a nerve-shaking zeal comes into his eyes.  "You've got to be defensive, even when it's uncalled for. And my personal way of dealing with fame is simply not being satisfied. Ever ."