Year Of Metal #055: Faith No More - Angel Dust
I’ll admit it: I included this one as a little bit of a ringer. For my all-round lack of metal knowledge, Faith No More’s 1992 album Angel Dust is an album I do know well; to go a step further, it’s probably one of my top 50 records of all time. So, if all else failed, I knew I had this one on the horizon to cheer me up when it appeared in the shuffle.
What can you really say about Angel Dust - it’s a bonkers, multifaceted album that perfectly mashes together the muscular, vulnerable, deeply silly, and even occasional beauty. The latter mood can mainly be found in their lush, fuzzed up but otherwise faithful performance of John Barry’s theme from Midnight Cowboy, which closes the record. While they’re no stranger to a comedy cover (deluxe editions were capped with a note-perfect version of “Easy”), I think this is a gorgeous rendition of a tremendous piece of music, a soothing wave of calm at the end of a frantic hour of music.
Because Angel Dust really does go all around the houses. Faith No More are often credited as one of the founding fathers of nu metal, and this comes across particularly on some of the more thudding, wall-of-sound tracks. “Kindergarten” is a swinging, macho number with some of Mike Patton’s oft-imitated sort-of-rapping. “Caffeine” is nicely gnarled and aggressive, employing the tension and release that the acts of the late ‘90s would implement. “Jizzlobber” is perhaps the most forward thinking piece, with the record’s most boneheaded riff and a performance of pure anguish from Patton, who practically chokes on his own wordless bile at themes.
When they throw caution and genre constraints to the wind, though, Angel Dust truly soars. Mike Patton is well known to be a boundlessly creative musician (whether or not you enjoy everything he does is down to taste), and while this is his second LP as a member of FNM, it’s the first on which his writing duties go beyond lyrics. While I would be remiss to credit all of Angel Dust’s wildness to his ear, the variety and weirdness of the work speaks to his restlessness. “Everything’s Ruined” is one of my favourites, a veritable suite smashed into four and a half lyrics. Patton switches from classic rock bellow to freaky carnival barker to the gorgeous outro. It’s built around pianos ascending ever upwards, and an all-time great, heroic solo from Jim Martin.
There are plenty of purely, joyfully odd tracks on here, too. Chugging opener “Land Of Sunshine” bounces headlong into madness, with oblique lyrics that give way to a therapy session, an immediately unforgettable chorus (“sing / and rejoice / and sing! / and rejoice”), and peels of crazed laughter. “RV” is stranger still, a waltzing number with Patton adopting a gruff, spoken work country mumble, for whatever reason. Then there’s “Be Aggressive”, a thrashing ode to (performing) fellatio, complete with a cheerleader chorus.
Bolder still, Angel Dust can boast maybe the all time greatest pop-metal tune in the form of “A Small Victory”. A shining, buoyant tune with airtight down picked chords, a beat you can actually dance to, and regular organ breaks which Patton gulpingly ad libs over, were it not for the heaviness, this could almost be 1992 in Manchester rather than California. It was the record’s second single, with the far heavier “Midlife Crisis” taking the pole position; I wonder if that was in the interest of not offending any metal purists, though frankly if you don’t think this track fucking rips then you’re not an audience worth cultivating.
Alt-anything is such a nebulous bit of genre merging that it’s not worth the energy considering it, but Faith No More’s ability to bring together metalheads and folk who’d distance themselves from the genre is worthy of celebration and even study. I reckon I’ve been into this one for nigh on 18 years, and I can still listen to it and think this sounds crazy. As far as I’m concerned, that’s some accolade.
