Así se llama mi última adquisición (bueno, mientras lo compro es mi última “bajación”). Duré casi 2 semanas bajándolo … casi que no!!! (pero un ave de buen agüero como que ayudó). Parece que es porque es muy solicitado. El álbum salió al mercado hace una semana. Eso me tiene feliz.
Hoy encontré una página toda bonita en la que vi como se escribe (mejor dicho, pronuncia) mi nombre en chino:
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… tan bonito!!! Eso me tiene feliz
Mis fuentes de noticias sobre Patton están caídas hace días: http://www.cv.org y http://www.bunglefever.com . Espero que no sea permanente. Igual sigo feliz.
Pero que cualquier pendejada me haga feliz … tiene otra causa más profunda …. que me tiene feliz!!!
It is not a good day, if you are not looking good
This is the best party that I’ve ever been to
Today I asked for a god to pour some wine
in my eyes
Today I asked for someone to shake some
salt on my life
… es el comienzo de la letra de mi canción favorita … que cuadra a la perfección!!! (oráculo winamp: es como el oráculo jet pero sin derechos de autor :P) ©Patton
El review del álbum. A propósito: estará sonando sin pausa y repitiéndose todo el día (o hasta que me sepa a cacho, puede ser en un mes) en la sección “por mis parlantes”.
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Según Tinymixtapes: (está el review de los demás álbums en la misma dirección)
I’ve found myself, on more than one occasion, debating the criteria of what constitutes a “musical genius.” Though in these discussions I advocate labeling David Bowie a genius, the long shadow of everything he’s done after 1980 looms overhead. To compensate, I came up with a “golden period” theory whereby my musical heroes can be called “genius” if they do no wrong for a certain period of time; think Lou Reed circa The Velvet Underground, or Bowie in the ’70s (yes, that is including Diamond Dogs). I like to keep my deified artists contextualized, all nice and tidy.
Alas, the definition goes a bit astray when attempting to apply it to Mike Patton. For instance, his collaboration with Kaada, Romances, and Fantômas’ (Patton, Buzz Osborne, Trevor Dunn, and Dave Lombardo) Delirium Cordia were two of the finest records of last year, but I didn’t really care for the Tomahawk album. While pondering the premise for Fantômas’ new album, Suspended Animation, I realized a new category for a musician like Patton must come to fruition: the “mad genius.”
Let me explain.
As ‘normal’ folks, we live our lives with all sorts of ridiculously stupid ideas running through our heads; but we don’t act on them, we repress them. Now let’s imagine what sort of thoughts might’ve been swimming in Mike Patton’s head when it came time for a new album: “Hey, why don’t I make an album dedicated to the month of April, and on top of that make every track an ode to a different day of the month!?” And “Hey, why don’t I make this ‘April’ album cartoon-themed!?” I know, I know, we’ve all thought of that, but who acts on it? Mike Patton does. And that’s precisely why he’s on tour right now and I’m typing up this review.
Skewed sensibilities are not enough, however. I could write down all the idiotic things that comes into my head, (and in fact, many of you might think I already do, but you should see what I left out), but that wouldn’t make me a literary great. Rather, you need some sort of ability to work your unfiltered ideas into a coherent piece (which is all the harder because they’re so weird). As luck would have it, Suspended Animation serves as yet another demonstration that Patton is a mad genius.
Now that we’ve gotten this far, many of you might violently recoil at my use of “coherent” and “Mike Patton” within the same paragraph, let alone same review. You’ll have to follow me a bit to get there, but allow me an attempt to elucidate: Repeating the structure of the first, self-titled Fantômas album, Suspended Animation has 30 short tracks. However, each track leaps so spasmodically from style to style, riff to riff, noise to silence, that the album could have easily been divided into 60 tracks (that is, if April had 60 days) or one track (April with only one day, what a nightmare). Despite these musical contortions, the album is held together through a series of recurring motifs, including cartoon sound effects, Patton’s inimitable vocals, grooving sludge metal, nursery rhymes, and spaghetti western atmospherics. Though difficult to ascertain at first, a structure begins to vaguely appear only after several listens. The album is so densely packed with ideas that it is unlikely that it can ever be fully absorbed (honestly, I can’t believe they play it live). On the other hand, every time I listen to it, I discover something new, and it really does make more sense. Thus, the album is not coherent in any traditional way, but it certainly has its own logic; the logic of–ahem–a mad genius. That being said, this album is not going to win the band many new fans, but it is certainly a treat for the converted. And it certainly proves that, despite repeating the structure of an earlier album, Fantômas are clearly not running out of ideas.
1. 04/01/05 Friday
2. 04/02/05 Saturday
3. 04/03/05 Sunday
4. 04/04/05 Monday
5. 04/05/05 Tuesday
6. 04/06/05 Wednesday
7. 04/07/05 Thursday
8. 04/08/05 Friday
9. 04/09/05 Saturday
10. 04/10/05 Sunday
11. 04/11/05 Monday
12. 04/12/05 Tuesday
13. 04/13/05 Wednesday
14. 04/14/05 Thursday
15. 04/15/05 Friday
16. 04/16/05 Saturday
17. 04/17/05 Sunday
18. 04/18/05 Monday
19. 04/19/05 Tuesday
20. 04/20/05 Wednesday
21. 04/21/05 Thursday
22. 04/22/05 Friday
23. 04/23/05 Saturday
24. 04/24/05 Sunday
25. 04/25/05 Monday
26. 04/26/05 Tuesday
27. 04/27/05 Wednesday
28. 04/28/05 Thursday
29. 04/29/05 Friday
30. 04/30/05 Saturday
See the words Mike Patton written on PlayLouder or elsewhere on the worldwideweb and you might be tempted to crack open the sacraments and have yourself some kick ass communion in his holy ass name. Without listening to his work, or coming from the perspective of someone who had Faith No More’s ‘Easy’ on their ‘Loaded’ compilation from 1993, it might be asking too much to see what all the fuss is about. Put simply, Patton is one of the most gloriously innovative, prolific and out-and-out bizarre artists in the world, and his label Ipecac has been putting out some seriously leftfield and original material (or as it says on the website ‘making people sick… since 1999’). His importance is only outweighed by the sheer volume of projects he’s unleashed or been a part of since his days with Faith No More – and despite the fact it’s tricky to keep up with how much he manages to spew out, he rarely repeats himself.
‘Suspended Animation’ feels like something of a retread. Following on from the underground delirium that met Fantomas’ ‘Delirium Cordia’, this is more back to the fundamental roots of what Fantomas do, though that in itself is tricky to quantify. ‘Suspended Animation’ is less a compendium of songs and more a splurging, raging, raping jazz metal fusion machine, weaving in samples, gong noises and assorted cartoon horror. Patton is certainly into producing conspicuously thematic concept albums right now. ‘General Patton vs the X-Ecutioners’ used a whole bunch of samples from war films and violent pictures, whereas here Fantomas have stolen from a bunch of cartoons to mishmash oxymoronic qualities such as cuteness and insanity. And still, they’ve achieved sick, brutal, fucked up insanity rather than wackiness. Using this sort of material could have backfired and left us with the album equivalent of ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit’, and that just wouldn’t be funny for anyone now would it. This is crafted in such a way that put on the stereo it’s unlikely to make much of an impact unless it’s very loud, but put it on your headphones it will roger your mush off. Plus the artwork by Yoshiomo Nara is marvellous.
So, in 2005 you’ve had one very good album from Mr Patton, but not the essential purchase that January’s ‘General Patton vs the X-Ecutioners’ was. Still, cheer up eh, it’s only March.
reviewed on 29 Mar 2005
(hay más haciendo click en “Read more“)
Según rolling stone:
Mike Patton’s all-star troublemakers (including Melvins guitarist Buzz Osborne and Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo) celebrate Looney Tunes soundtracks and the no-mercy mayhem of John Zorn’s Naked City in these thirty miniatures of spaghetti-western spasm and speed-of-light viscera. The Road Runner couldn’t outrace this stuff.
(Posted abr 07, 2005)
%@#$!!? Brace yourself, super group Fantomas is back with a vengeance on their fourth album SUSPENDED ANIMATION. Unlike the epic DELIRIUM CORDIA, SUSPENDED ANIMATION likens itself with Fantomas’ first record (self titled) punctuated with cartoon escapades.
The first edition (Limited to 25,000) is a spiral bound 30 page eye popping package illustrated by world famous Japanese painter Yoshitomo Nara. The theme is a calendar, the month of April, the tracks appropriately named the days of the week.
Fantomas’ “Suspended Animation” is a great record, not for everyone, certainly. Mike Patton, clearly influenced by John Zorn’s Naked City project and the work of Carl Stalling, has constructed a jump cut record that is not dissimilar to much of Naked City’s output– this is one thing I’ve found somewhat underdocumented reading reviews of the album, but having spent a little time listening to it, this was my first impression.
Patton does, however, find his own voice as he seamlessly blends genres– notably cartoon music in the Stalling model and endless sound effects. Like Naked City, it can be frustrating at times when you find an idea you like and its development is abandoned in exchange for something else, but the statement as a whole is what’s really important. Like all Fantomas records, there’s a high theatrical feels on this one as it slides between various styles, always returning to a sort of sludgey metal feel and a cartoon feel. Patton’s vocals are largely wordless, though there is some lyric here and there.
One thing that I see a lot of is fans of metal seeking Fantomas material having heard its a “metal supergroup”– if you don’t like experimental music, you probably won’t like this one, regardless of who’s in the band– most of these guys have been associated with Zorn’s work more recently than with metal bands, and it shows. On the other hand, if you are a metal fan and you’re a bit open minded, there may be enough here to latch onto to allow you to develop an appreciation for it, but Fantomas is not something that will come easy– you sort of have to get used to hearing it before it makes sense.
If you’re a fan of Patton’s work with Fantomas (even if you disliked “Delerium Cordia”) or for that matter with Mr. Bungle, this is a good one to check out. I’d also recommend this to John Zorn/Naked City fans, they’ll find quite a bit to like on this one (ditto for “General Patton vs. the X-ecutioners”). Conversely, if you did like this, check out Zorn’s Naked City band, I think you’ll find it very rewarding.
Killer CDs: Fantomas – Suspended Animation
By Brad Podray
I’ll get right to the point: Suspended Animation is a merry-go-round ride through a cartoon-filled wonderland that sits on the outskirts of hell. The entire album centers around the theme of April(yes, the month of April) and pays tribute to cartoon music composition in a way that only Fantomas can provide for the listener. Bombastic, hard, and just plain loony are just a few of the terms that can be used to describe this album. With a barrage of hard instrumentation and Mike Patton’s astounding manipulation of his voice, it’s an eccentric album on all accounts. In fact. the album artwork included when you purchase the disc is a 30 page calendar done by Japanese pop cartoonist, Yoshimoto Nara.
For those of you not familiar with Fantomas, a brief explanation is necessary: To the untrained ear, it sounds like chaos, yet to the trained music critic, it’s still chaos. Yet, unlike the type of chaos that causes your cat to explode while your legs turn into jam for no reason, this is the type of chaos produced by a finely tuned group of musicians with discipline and control. The band’s previous works have been equally lauded with praise and despised amongst the music community for what can only be described as “the-most-unpredictable-song-structures-ever.”
In Suspended Animation, Fantomas combines gnashing guitars with-light melodic moments and cartoon sound effects with ambient synthesis with real singing and vocal sound effects combined with noise combined with strings combined with samples from cartoons combined with more chaos perhaps combined with opera samples and…well, you get the point. Highlighting tracks specifically for this review would be a lesson in futility, as to describe any of these tracks appropriately would be next to impossible. Though no two tracks are alike whatsoever, the general theme is one of cutting-edge-rock-craziness. You’ll hear everything from a telephone busy signal to heavy metal to children(or what sound like children) singing. All of the track names are a date in April of ’05 and few clock in at over 2 minutes. Although this particular reviewer tries very hard to avoid using stupid writing clichés like “this album takes you on a ride,” such description cannot be avoided when it comes to Suspended Animation. Each track is its own journey, whether you’re cruising along and suddenly you’re assaulted randomly by heavy guitar licks from all sides like in 4/32/05 or riding a “wacky” train that’s come off its tracks and descended into some animated netherworld where predictability is a forgotten concept(like in 4/30/05, that album’s longest track, which clocks in at 3:08).
Sure to please: Mr. Bungle fans, Fantomas fans, basically any fan of Mike Patton.
Sure to disappoint: People who like predictability in songs. People who like to understand the words in music. People who don’t like to hear Mike Patton make crazy noises with his voice.
Fantomas’s 2004 opus Delirium Cordia ranks as one of the scariest albums to be unleashed upon the public in recent memory, a single-track, 74-minute metal/jazz fusion/post rock extravaganza that brought the listener deep into the darkest realms of the subconscious, sonically assaulting us at every chance, always looking for the next stone to overturn, in order to examine with demented glee the grotesquerie that lurked beneath. Ominous, wildly inventive, and genuinely frightening, it remains, in this writer’s opinion, one of the most disturbingly accurate musical interpretations of the nightmare experience ever recorded.
Arguably the most talented “supergroup” today, featuring vocal mastermind (and overall renaissance dude) Mike Patton, guitarist Buzz Osborne from the legendary Melvins, versatile bassist Trevor Dunn (formerly of Patton’s Mr. Bungle), and the great Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo, the quartet have collaborated on four albums now, each member bringing his own unique touch to the compositions. Patton’s over-the-top, nonverbal caterwauling, Osborne’s grinding chords, Dunn’s astonishing bass work that leaps from jazz to funk to metal instantaneously, and Lombardo’s frenzied drum clinic, all made for a blend that worked incredibly well on 1999’s sci-fi themed Fantomas, 2001’s collection of film score interpretations The Director’s Cut, and the aforementioned Delirium Cordia. Displaying an uncanny ability to continually pull the rug out from underneath their collective audience, it was anybody’s guess as to what Fantomas would do next, and to their credit, they’ve done it again, taking their sound into yet another uncharted territory, and leaving us shaking our heads in the process. This time, Fantomas has decided to take on the complex, intricate, challenging, and highly demented world of cartoon music.
Directly influenced by the legendary Warner Brothers cartoon composers Carl Stalling, Milt Franklyn, and Raymond Scott, as well as Warner’s great sound effects guru Treg Brown, Suspended Animation attempts to match the convoluted arrangements and comedic quality of classic cartoon scores, albeit in an extremely intensified, Fantomas-style way (Brown’s distinctive sounds are also sampled on the record). In direct contrast to Delirium Cordia’s sprawling, experimental, hour-and-a-quarter song, Suspended Animation bears a small similarity to Patton and Dunn’s previous work with Mr. Bungle, the CD divided into 30 brief, choppy tracks that play over a meager 43 minutes (with each song being named after each day in April), making this a far more inviting album, one that many people will find easier to enjoy. The result is a fascinating blend of the macabre and the lighthearted, something that will appeal to anyone who appreciates the darker side of both comedy and music.
Stalling’s famous Looney Tunes scores are notable for their difficulty to play, the vibrant music throwing logic out the window, the convoluted arrangements serving as much more than a backdrop to the animation, enhancing it greatly, to the point where hearing only the music enables people to visualize the on-screen actions would be. Fantomas clearly pays homage to that onomatopoeic style of Stalling’s, be it the ascending and descending notes that accompanied a tiptoeing Bugs Bunny, the ominous, bass-heavy chords that accentuated the stomp of a monstrous creature, or the slide Hawaiian guitar that marks the famous opening to the Looney Tunes theme.
The overall performance of the band is as mesmerizing as you’d expect, but what’s especially impressive is how much the four members elevate their playing, providing evocative, ambient sounds, and then shifting abruptly into a wild combination of math rock and speed metal (perfectly exemplified by the uproarious “04/29/05”). As incredibly self-indulgent as it may sound at first, the music here is especially tight, the entire album anchored by Lombardo’s sharp drumming, coming off as equal parts metal and jazz. Patton, mad genius that he is, is all over this record, spewing countless of overdubbed bursts of rhythmic vocal gibberish that would make Japanese a cappella artist Dokaka proud, with always fascinating, and often hilarious results. In fact, it’s impossible to hear tracks like “04/03/05” and “04/07/05” and not crack a smile.
Accompanied by a lavish, 30-page calendar that displays the illustrations of notable Japanese artist Yoshimoto Nara, the various images of cutely-drawn children wearing adult expressions encapsulates the balance the band achieves between the lighthearted and the dismal, and in the same way people are either disturbed or amused by the drawings, they will either be drawn to Suspended Animation or repelled by it. Those who do give it a chance are in for a treat. As if in response to those who think Fantomas’s version of cartoon music is too overwhelming and dismal, this ingenious little album concludes with the famous pay-off line from the classic Bugs Bunny toon, “What’s Opera, Doc”, that says all that needs to be said: “Well, what did you expect… a happy ending?”