90. Faith No More
Roundhouse
18 June 2015
We had caught Faith No More supporting Sabbath at Hyde Park, a gloriously unhinged affair where they were one of only two acts that didn’t feel like musical filler. Granted, that was greatest hits set, strategically weaponised to charm a field full of Sabbath fans. But this? This was the real test: a proper headline slot, a new album (Sol Invictus), and an audience made up mostly of forty-somethings who, let’s be honest, were also at that Hyde Park gig and probably bought this ticket whilst nursing the nostalgia hangover, like us.
The set kicked off with just the right blend of new and old, the band clearly aware that “Epic” and “Midlife Crisis” still have the power to generate spontaneous, borderline-religious singalongs from a crowd that hasn't willingly jumped since 2003. But the new stuff? Surprisingly strong. “Matador” and “Superhero” didn’t feel like afterthoughts or late-career padding, they had that same muscular swagger and melodic weirdness that made The Real Thing era so addictive.
Patton, of course, was in full shapeshifter mode. One moment crooning like a lounge singer, the next unleashing a guttural scream that could turn milk sour. The man doesn’t so much perform as channel a dozen genres through a blender and spit them back out. He moved across the stage like a boxer, coiled, unpredictable, oddly elegant in the chaos.
Visually, the band had committed hard to a concept. Everyone and everything was dressed in white, as if Heaven itself had booked a nu-metal residency, with massive floral arrangements and lighting that shifted the hues on stage like a kaleidoscope.
It was simple, stylish, theatrical. And then there was the gimp wandering about the stage like someone had lost control of their private browsing history. Whether it was deliberate, ironic, or just something for the weekend for Mike Patton, nobody could say. So, we all did the British thing, politely ignored it, and got back to having an nice evening.
Theatrical, chaotic, oddly beautiful and still very much capable of kicking in the doors of your expectations, rearranging some furniture, and leaving you a bit giddy.