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 ."

Faith No More's Savage Democracy Erin Culley Sequestered in Studio City's charming Scream Studios, Faith No More are furiously racing the clock to finish mixing their new album, Angel Dust. Bad enough that in four days vocalist Mike Patton heads out on tour with his other band, Mr. Bungle. But the record label's also clamouring for finished product. And so far they've only completed three songs. You could easily imagine the shoulders of Patton, guitarist Jim Martin, bassist Billy Gould, keyboardist Roddy Bottum and drummer Mike Bordin stooped by the task at hand. Especially considering the challenge of having to follow up on their monumentally successful album The Real Thing. But the lackadaisical air in the studio today imparts no such notion. The pool table sees constant use, the TV blares an endless stream of noise, and band members straggle in and out of the control room to pick at the just-delivered Thai food. FNM formed in 1982 as a "hippie hate band," according to their Jim Martin-penned bio. But it took eight years, 3 albums and the replacement of original singer Chuck Mosley with Mike Patton in early 89 to put them on the charts. Sparked by its hit MTV video for "Epic," The Real Thing bloomed late, went platinum, landed the band tours with Billy Idol, Robert Plant and Metallica and won them "1990 Band of the Year" awards from the likes of Rip and Music Express. And before Angel Dust is even released, they'll be heading to Europe to tour with Guns N' Roses. Despite all the hoopla, though, the band has managed to remain as annoying / charming/ sick-in-the-head as ever. Patton, stretched out on a well-worn couch, claims to be handling success by working at Blockbuster Video (and he does sport their employee shirt today), where he never fails to make suggestions to the customers. "And I always," he claims, "no matter who comes in, recommend John Waters." The band has just finished watching Talk Soup - their new favorite TV program that runs all the spiciest snippets from the day's talk shows - and they blame this for any weird "mode" they might be in. After deciding that any sort of interview would best be done in separate groups, Patton and Gould settle in on the studio's garish purple patio for the first round of questioning. Haven't you guys felt any pressure making Angel Dust in light of the success of the Real Thing? BG: We didn't feel any pressure writing songs because we didn't have any success before we wrote the last record, and we figured we'd just do what we did the last time. After the songs were written we started to record and then the pressure started coming from record company people and stuff who were more worried than we were. We're totally feeling pressure and we're getting pissed off 'cause people are trying to light fires under our asses and get us freaked out like we should be worried about something. They think we should be worried. [slips into adult/authority voice] We should know how serious this is and how many records we could be selling. MP: Trying to get us worried, it's a real backwards thing. BG: It's okay, the record's gonna be fine. How does the new album compare to TRT? MP: There's some really, really disturbing shit (laughs). I think what got a lot of record company people worried when they heard Angel Dust was that a lot of it wasn't linear. A lot of our last album was verse/chorus, you could really see where things were going. This time there's a lot of turns. BG: A little more theatrical, like a Queen record. Tell me about the disturbing shit. MP: It's just a lot heavier. Like, I guess someone would say that the most extreme thing on our last record was "Surprise You're Dead." This stuff is disturbing but not like that at all. I think someone who would listen to "Surprise" and think "Wow cool that's really heavy" would hear, say, the song Jim wrote called "Jizzlobber" and just go "No, man, NO!" What about lyrically? Where are you coming from this time, Mike? MP: Well, this time it's more like me writing. Before I'd hear like "From Out of Nowhere" on the last album and I'd say "Oh, okay, this should be a bitter lover song" and I'd invent a scenario that had nothing to do with me at all. This time I didn't do that at all. You always wait for the band to write the music before you compose the lyrics? MP: Oh yeah, yeah. Have to. I mean there's always ideas but I don't know how to construct a song around words. So you're not some closet poet? MP: (laughing) Fuck no! Well, your lyrics are pretty interesting. MP: I guess. But if you notice, to me I can tell that those songs (off TRT) were written in three weeks. Not in the fact that they're thrown together, but they're all from the perspective, like "Oh, poor this, poor that." Oh, were you feeling very poor at the time? MP: Well I was in my room all alone! I didn't know anybody, I'd just moved to the city and it was just like "Oh fuck man! What am I doing here?" This time I think it's a little more confrontational. You guys toured forever for the last record. BG: We could have kept touring 'cause the record didn't happen until after like a year of touring. When it picked up, we could have pushed it. The record company really wanted us to tour because they thought we could have sold a whole lot more records and we'd always been an opening band for people, so we could have actually made a lot of money because the record was at its peak, but it'd been 18 months on the road. If we'd have done that, we probably would have made some money but we probably would have hated the music and this record wouldn't be coming out now. MP: We would have come back and been used car salesmen or something. It must have been kind of frustrating for you guys, the record taking so long to hit. BG: See the thing is, we knew we had a good album when we recorded it last time. I don't think we see it like it was a record that got huge because really it was a record that we worked our asses off on. At the end it became huge but that was kind of after we'd put in the bulk of our energy. It was like an epilogue. I think the real success thing, if it happens, will be now. This would be the successful record, if it's successful. So, what do you think? MP: I think it's gonna piss a lot of people off, and that's a success in itself (laughs). BG: We're kind of thought about (by the press) as having started this thing: "Well you guys are really doing this new kind of music that's kind of funk, kind of rap and kind of metal" and it really kind of bothered us 'cause we never wanted to be in anything like that. Probably, if we'd have kept doing that, it would have been a pretty safe bet thing to do, and we're not really doing that. We're taking a lot more extremes. If some kid goes to buy the new record and thinks that they're gonna get "Epic" there are some songs that might be on key, but if they put on the wrong song, they're gonna take the record back, 'cause it's kind of ugly. Angel Dust represents a conscious effort to get away from the rap/funk/metal tag then? MP: When people say you're responsible for a whole pack of really shitty bands -- or not even shitty bands, but a shitty idea -- it doesn't make you want to be it. BG: And you're in the forefront of it. This is what some record company people tell us: "You've created this thing, and you've created this thing of fans that are counting on you to fulfill this need in them. Don't change it because you're going to alienate them and piss them off." A lot of interviews I've done for this record are like "Aren't you worried about alienating your fans?" We didn't have any fans when we wrote the last fucking record. We're doing what we do. MP: You can't worry about that stuff. BG: We're just fucking musicians. So why the title Angel Dust? BG: It's two beautiful words but a real ugly thing. It's kind of what the record's like; it's got some real beauty in it and it's got some real ugliness in it. It's like the balance thing. "Ugly" and "disturbing" seem to be coming up a lot when you describe the new record. Would you care to elaborate? BG: Tell her about "Malpractice." MP: Alright, there's this one song I wrote about a lady who goes to a surgeon and she's getting operated on and she realizes she likes the surgeon's hand inside of her. She doesn't even care about being cured, she just wants someone's hands inside of her -- she gets addicted to that. You're right, that's pretty disturbing. MP: I think there's one thing you can say about the disturbing songs and that's that you can't put your finger on why we would write a song like that. Like "Surprise You're Dead" -- wow, nightmare, scary! Big fucking deal. A lot of these songs, its just like someone that's in agony. I think a lot of people like to read lyrics and figure out, "Gee, really, what's going on here?" And a lot of interviewers will read lyrics and go, "So this happened to you when you were a child," like psychoanalyse lyrics. With these, it's going to be totally impossible, and I think that's great. [Patton takes a phone call and then returns to tell Billy that they've been invited, along with former Mentor/resident L.A. sicko Il Duce, to Tom Araya's (vocalist/bassist for Slayer) this evening.] BG: (laughing) Why don't you tell her what's going on! MP: We're gonna swap video tapes, have a taping party. BG: Sick fucked-up tapes. MP: Great things. I'm almost afraid to ask, but, what? MP: A lot of shit-eating and stuff like that; dicks on meat hooks. Il Duce has a lot of animal porn, which is fine by me. That's disgusting! BG: (laughs) Plus you get to hang out with cultural icons! Heroes! There's a quote from your bio which states "Whatever physical struggle they might have gone through is nothing compared to the mental torture and anguish they inflict upon each other." What exactly does that mean? MP: I think that kind of says it all. We're kind of boring people and when you're bored you have to find lower and lower and more petty means of amusing yourselves. And that always means degrading someone. BG: Yeah, the scapegoat phenomenon has been going on since the beginning of mankind. Having a scapegoat can be quite fun. Some of us get picked on more than others. We might be a democracy but we're not a welfare state. MP: Savage democracy. We're basically cave men. Any desire to go on a Robert Bly escapade to get in touch with that? BG: It's funny you should mention that... MP: 'Cause our guitar player, Jim, is thinking about going. BG: He's been hanging out a lot with Ian Astbury from the Cult and he's really trying to convince him to go along. Why, has Astbury gone? MP: Oh, didn't you know? He and the singer for the Chili Peppers. Everyone who's even got a smidgen of Indian background, even if they don't have it they can say they do. BG: You get to hang out in a sweat lodge and talk about men things, naked! As a matter of fact, we've got a song about something like that, Robert Bly. Which one? MP: Well, it was called "I Swallow", but now it's called "Be Aggressive." [We now go into the studio to hear a mix of an as yet untitled song. Its code name is "The Arabian Song" which certainly fits. The tune is grand, sweeping, and darkly Middle Eastern in tone. A few minutes later "Kindergarten," a slightly more upbeat tune, is played and then followed by the even livelier, yet strangely Japanese-sounding "Small Victory." The band's right. The Real Thing this ain't. Mike Bordin, Jim Martin (who's sporting a pair of shades over his glasses even though it's already dusk-- and a bandage on his hand where a metal plate has been removed) and Roddy Bottum (who also wears a cast on his arm, thanks to a recent trip over a cliff on his bike) now take up residence on the purple patio.] So Jim, I heard a rumor that you're going on one of Robert Bly's Wildman outings with Ian Astbury. JM: You've gotta be kidding me! RB: What's that? JM: Why would I do that? RB: Who's Robert Bly? Is it like one of those outdoor things where you have to find your own food and stuff? It's kind of like bonding in a sweat lodge and crying. JM: Oh, men hugging and crying and stuff? Jesus fucking Christ! MB: They make those fucking guys eat dirt! JM: It sounds freaky and I don't want to do any freaky stuff like that. RB: I wouldn't do it either. MB: She's not asking you, she's asking Jim. RB: Oh. MB: I don't want to bond with males. I take that as a "no," then. MB: No, it sounds a little sexist. Where are the women? RB: I think that's the point -- there aren't any. JM: Would you like to hug and cry with sweaty, greasy women? Well, no. So tell me about touring: you've been all over the world -- South America, Europe, England, Japan, the States, Australia -- any places in particular that stand out? MB: They were cool in Japan. RB: Yeah, to me that was fun in a different way. They weren't wild at all, they were just sitting there but it was fascinating. They just sit there and when you stop it's like clap, clap, clap and the minute you walk up to the microphone everyone just stops -- they're so attentive. I started to get into it the second night, just walk up to the microphone and go (opens his mouth) and silence. Did you end up actually meeting any of them? JM: Oh yeah! They're totally friendly, polite. MB: So nice that you felt weird. JM: Yeah, it felt like they were clean; you weren't afraid of catching anything from touching them. Clean? That's a pretty warped observation. You're not a germ freak are you? MB: (loud laughter) Good question! Now you're getting right down to the matter! JM: Kind of. It's not that bad yet. Like I hate putting all my clothes in with somebody else's clothes and that kind of shit. You must love being on a tour bus! JM: It's all right but I always feel like I'm gonna get the flu or something. When I walk in and out of buildings I hate touching the door knobs and shit. MB: Now do you understand why he'd never sit in a he-man sweat lodge? I'm beginning to. MB: I'm the kind of guy that walks around with open blisters with shit on his hands on tour. JM: See, I hate being around him on tour. RB: He lets dogs lick his hands. He thinks it's good for the wounds. MB: It's good, it heals them. JM: I can't deal with that. But I wasn't afraid of the Japanese at all. I just don't like touching anybody else's shit and I don't like them touching mine. What about you Roddy? RB: I don't care. I've lived a very filthy life at times so it doesn't bother me. JM: I went to Roddy's, Bill's and Puffy's house one time when I first joined the band and I wouldn't sit down. MB: I slept on the floor amongst all the rubbish. Roddy had mice living in his clothes at one point. You've had an amazing amount of success, managed to travel around the world (without killing each other). How has this affected the goals or focus of FNM? Have they changed? MB: They have to change. We're not gonna write the same song over and over. We're not gonna make the same record over and over. We won't do that. That would be stupid. The band's focus always changes. Yeah, and the fact that we had a great success is gonna be part of the new input that changes the focus -- but it's always changing. Are you happy with where it's going? MB: I think it's gonna be a great record. It's gonna be a record I'm proud of. And that to me is the pressure, to not put out something that's shitty.

On September 1st 1992 Faith No More released an EP featuring remixes of A Small Victory by Martin Glover, AKA Youth . The R-evolution 23 (Full Moon) Mix and Sundown Mix were re-imaginings of the original song produced by Youth, bass player with Killing Joke . This was the first Faith No More song to be produced and engineered by someone other than Matt Wallace and the band, plus their first fully fledged exploration into electro dance music. The remix was highly endorsed by the band, with the possible exception of Jim Martin who at the time had professed a dislike of 'techno' music. Patton wants to print up a t-shirt featuring Jim in familiar thumbs up pose, bearing the legend, 'Jim Martin says Techno's OK', There's not much the guitarist hates more than Techno. The band have just heard the Youth mixes of their new single, 'A Small Victory', and they're happy as pigs in shite, Roddy is even planning to record a Techno track with Anne Magnusson and the Freds' Richard Fairbrass. "Now that we've found Youth, he can make us what we've always wanted ho be. I know everyone, repeat everyone, will be really into it." He fixes Jim with a beaming smile. The guitarist ignores him. - Melody Maker | August 1992