Why Faith No More Are Musical Plumbers

There was never really an agreement to come back and do it again. And if there was, I think that it probably wouldn’t have happened,” admits singer Mike Patton, as he explains what led to Faith No More reuniting and recording a new album, Sol Invictus. “I remember having a meeting when we broke up, and I remember being pretty adamant that, you know, it was time to move on. And I was really nervous about it, ready for ‘ok, I’m going to be the bad guy’ or whatever. But we all just looked at each other and were like ‘yeah, yeah’ and was, like, so comforting to know that there’s this collective consciousness that actually is really the Godfather of the situation. It’s not about you, it’s a band thing, and it governs pretty much every situation.”

Patton’s description of the band as a mob (albeit with a mafia mastermind) is romantic but unsurprising. It must have been tempting to listen to the chorus of press, fans and the rest calling for a return all this time. “No, that had zero influence,” he says with a smile. “We didn’t really have a master plan, meaning, ‘Hey, we’ve gotta make another record and it’s gotta sound like this.’ No. Basically Bill [Gould, bass] wrote a set of music and it wasn’t like, there weren’t guns pointed at anyone’s head, I heard what he was doing and it was just kinda great, you know? Look at it as, I don’t know, a collection of music. To me, any project I do, I look at it in a vacuum and then see what does it need? What do I have in my toolbox? What can I do to add to it?” This time around Patton and the band are looking forward to being a bit more selective in their approach to making an album. “It’s experience. And you know, some would call that senility or old age, but I think it’s good. You don’t have to do everything; it’s nice to be in a position where you can say no. It is really empowering. And we just really don’t have the energy to do it anymore. And you know, I know we’ve been away for 20 years or whatever, and what makes it exciting is being able to say, ‘Hey, we’re going to do this, and then maybe not this.’”

"You’ve gotta find ways of staying busy, creative and stimulated, and you know, moving forward"

Famously a guy not short of other musical options (Mr Bungle, Tomahawk, Peeping Tom, Fantomas and the rest), Patton would be the least likely to be pushing for a FNM reunion if the time or vibe wasn’t right. The idea that ‘the band’ is bigger than any one person is one he maintains throughout. “I don’t know, maybe some bands need that [a frontman to stand out], but I don’t feel that that’s my place, at least not in the kind of music I’ve been making. Very rarely do I need to be that guy,” he laughs. “I don’t feel I need to provide that, whatever, fill that role. With these guys, yeah, to be honest the music, I really liked it so much that I just wanted to not get in the way… It’s another instrument, it just so happens that it comes out of my mouth. It’s not more or less important than a guy hitting a piece of cow skin or a guy playing a string.”

Sol Invictus delivers ten new tracks ranging in style and pace, kicking off with Patton roaring for the title track and follow-up, Superhero, while its single (of sorts), Motherfucker, has a typical melodramatic (and mischievous) growl. Fans of FNH’s awesome creepy will also be well happy with Matador and ending track, From The Dead, the latter including a weird singalong chorus that’s mellow as well as haunting. “Yeah, it resolves nicely, that was what we were hoping for,” says Patton of the track listing. However, getting him to give much more detail about the ideas for the tunes is a bit harder. “When you finish a record, it’s like you’re giving it, you know? You gave birth to something and then it’s someone else’s. In some ways, that’s why interviews, at least for me, are hard to do because I’ve got nothing to say about it, I did it,” he says with another smile. On the page this might come across as arrogance or disinterest (and certainly in the past he’s been called ‘difficult’ by some of the best), but the reluctance does make sense. “I mean, talking is nice because it gives you perspective. But also, it’s more like we’re curious to hear [what the reaction is beyond us]. Especially with a newborn like what we have in this album, I mean, I’ve played this record for like my wife and a couple of close friends, and that’s it. People I trust have heard it, so it’s interesting to kind of hear other people’s opinion too.”

The old ‘no, what do you guys think?’ defence is one that artists have used since Iggy was a boy, but when Patton gives his blessing for interpretations, you can have faith (pardon the pun). This time Faith No More’s offering has happened beyond the music industry machine, so they’ve already had plenty of control. “Oh, I’m not doing that ever again and in fact, I’m not even sure if that machine exists anymore for people like us,” Patton smiles while the record label reps look on. “So the way of doing things is, I guess, the only one way now. The fact that we’re able to do it this way [on our own] is encouraging. If anything, it was one of the more natural records we’ve made. From front to back we did it ourselves – recorded it, produced it, even released it – and that’s kind of, at least, comparing what we’ve done in the past, a total anomaly; it’s exciting. I’ve been doing stuff like that for a while, but it was really nice to do it that way with these guys. 

“When I joined this band they already had a deal signed, so I hopped onto the ship, so to speak, the train, the caboose. But it’s cool, it’s very encouraging to kind of watch it happen in that way that I’m maybe more used to.”

"It’s not more or less important than a guy hitting a piece of cow skin or a guy playing a string”

Discussion moves to the fact that this ‘new way’ (or only way) of moving in the music industry includes the new wave of ‘making it big’ avenues – insert “pop star talent quest soul-selling television competition” here. “That’s all bullshit. It pretty much always was, but now there’s no infrastructure to support it,” Patton says definitely, but not quite with the bile you might expect. “Now you’ve gotta find ways of staying busy, creative and stimulated, and you know, moving forward. And making a living for God’s sakes too, that’s not a bad thing.” Confirming he’s a supporter of crowd-funding ventures as ideas and in practice (“which is great, totally great… I do it all the time”), this writer suggests that from a fan’s point of view there’s a logic to it that just makes sense. Audiences wouldn’t expect a professional in any other line of work to do a freebie for their expertise – we don’t expect plumbers to drain sinks for nothing – so why would we expect those that provide the soundtracks to our lives to do the same? “You know, we’ve figured out a way of doing musical plumbing,” Patton sniggers with a sweet smile. “There’s your headline, ‘Faith No More – musical plumbing!” The pattern (sorry, pun time again) sees him deflecting a bit, but it’s not a bad thing. This is a man, and a band, who helped rewrite genre rules to allow awesome new waterways to be added to the mainstream. But it’s not something he sees as a big deal. “I don’t think that’s special, I think that’s normal,” Patton says of the suggestion FNM are innovators. “C’mon man, if you’re a writer, do you write the same few paragraphs every article? Of course not. Same with us, same with the plumbers. They – and we – try and switch it up every few time.”