Mike Patton needs no introduction. Jean Claude-Vannier probably needs one being as he is ‘not of our world’ if that’s not being an elitist, metal loving arsehole? Anyway, Jean Cluade-Vennier is a 76-year-old French composer, poet and arranger, probably more famous for his work with Serge Gainsborough the also famous French auteur / filmmaker / poet etc etc. You beginning to get the coffee stained, opiate stained picture, right? You can literally smell the Pastis and Gauloises dripping from my headphones (excuse the crass and dangerously close to French cultural appropriations nee stereotypes on offer here).
Given that Mike Patton doesn’t need an introduction, given the content within this album, I need to fill in the word count somehow. Synonymous with pleasing himself and his apparent loathing of his middle of the road job as frontman of the now reformed Faith No More, Patton has made a career from sticking his middle finger up to conventions and going his own way, revelling in his musical mischief in a myriad of guises and bands such as Mondo Crane, Fantomas, Mr.Bungle (now also reformed, perhaps the coffers in Patton towers need replenishing?) and countless left field collaborations that spread far and wide across the plains of musical genres from punk, metal, thrash to soundtracks, spoken word and classical meanderings.
They are those that worship at the altar of Patton and regardless of the musical merits will just fucking LOVE the fact he is doing something, different, quirky, worthy, antagonistic and crazy. And yes, for that, Patton and his various collaborators should be applauded for that. There’s absolutely nothing wrong in trying new things and straying from popular musical conventions. Corpse Flower stumbles though its tracks like a Tom Waits album, dripping in melancholy and booze. It sounds like a soundtrack to a Charles Bukowski short story, like a drunken night in Montmartre where you’ve lost your phone, friends and mind. One track is a jaunty Oceans Eleven film soundtrack run through of a menu. I shit you not.
Whether you like this album depends very much on your mental state. Anything other than off your tits of Mezcal and half a kilo of something else, then I think you’ll struggle to find anything here for you. Listening to this in its entirety (you’re welcome) is tough and to answer your questions ‘Does this belong anywhere near this website in terms of musical genre?’ then no it doesn’t really. BUT it is evocative and challenging (for various reasons) and although it does carry a whiff of ‘The Emperors New Clothes’ about it, you can’t help but admire Patton’s ability to fuck with conventions and do what the fuck he wants to do. Does that mean you have to listen to it? No…I’ve done that for you…and unless you are Mike Patton’s Mum, then I think you’re going to struggle to find the positives when it comes to Corpse Flower. Where’s that new Dead Cross album…….?
(Fuck Knows/10 Nick Griffiths)
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