Concert Review: Mr. Bungle at Emo’s, Austin: rock’s favorite oddballs return to ATX for the first time since 1999, with assistance from Scott Ian and Dave Lombardo.
★★★★★
It’s been over 24 years since Mr. Bungle, the weirdest band in rock, played Austin (I was at that show. Good times). Given that the band disbanded shortly thereafter, with frontman Mike Patton, guitarist Trey Spruance and bassist Trevor Dunn branching into other seemingly infinite musical projects, I never expected to see them again.
Yet this Tuesday in Austin, the group returned, with a sold out(!) show at Emo’s. I was there wearing my vintage Mr. Bungle shirt I’ve owned since 1993 (the same shirt Patton wore in Faith No More’s Epic video), ready for whatever the band were about to unleash.
The bulk of the set was from the band’s 2020 (has it really been that long??) album The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny, consisting of material from Bungle’s unreleased 1986 demo of the same name. It showed them at their most metal, eschewing the free jazz weirdness and genre blending madness that would follow, while still capturing the madcap spirit that endears them to fans.
Aided by Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo and Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian, the band plowed through Easter Bunny thrash metal tracks like the wonderfully titled Anarchy Up Your Anus and Spreading The Thighs of Death.
A mosh pit quickly formed, with the crowd erupting over the skulking Killing Joke-esque Eracist. Hypocrites playfully referenced La Cucaracha before Patton catered to the Texas crowd by changing “Speak Spanish or die” to “Speak Tejano or die!!”
Covers were also plentiful, including punk and metal classics like Corrosion of Conformity’s Loss For Words, Siege’s Cold War, Slayer’s Hell Awaits and The Circle Jerks’ World Up My Ass. The band made them their own, taking songs that were already aggressive sound even more rabidly feral.
The band were at their manic best, with Spruance whipping out searing leads, Lombardo pummeling with abandon, Ian tight as always and Dunn deftly holding down the bottom end. Patton, with his seemingly indefatigable six-octave range, veered ably between barks, screams and croons, sometimes all in one song.
Speaking of crooning, the band also played covers on the mellower end of the spectrum, including the 10cc ballad I’m Not In Love, John Farrar’s Hopelessly Devoted to You (made famous by Olivia Newton John in Grease), and Spandau Ballet’s True, which occasionally veered from its New Wave origins into blistering noise rock.
Any fan who has kept track of the group’s recent setlists knew Mr. Bungle weren’t going to indulge fan nostalgia, but in a weird way, they were indulging their own nostalgia. At one point Patton acknowledged the lack of catering to the crowd (“Thanks for putting up with us!”) Even the tour’s title, Glutton for Punishment, offered a knowing wink.
Thus, the set was entirely bereft of their 90’s catalogue, sans one exception, the ska-metal fever dream My Ass Is on Fire from their 1991 self-titled debut. The crowd went ballistic, even singing along when the song morphed into the Pepto Bismol jingle.
But that’s why we love Mr. Bungle right? They became a band to amuse themselves, but their alchemy became so infectious it launched a cult devotion most bands would kill for. The audience ate it up, content to consume the band’s sound and furor, expectations be damned.
The fact that Patton, who stepped away from touring briefly due to mental health issues, is back in his element and in good spirits was the cherry on top.
The band returned for a brief encore (interspersed with various band members telling some killer dad jokes), performing Henry Mancini’s Experiment in Terror and D.R.I’s I Don’t Need Society, before departing to rapturous applause.
I have no idea if Mr Bungle will ever tour again, but it was special getting to hear them with my wife, for which the band holds a special place in our heart (seriously, it’s true). They make an unholy, uncompromising racket that tests their fans mettle, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.