Exclusive Review from CMJ-NMR:

	 INSANE. These guys are completely insane. And probably dangerous.  
Dear, doomed reader, be warned: Mr. Bungle is a menace to your mental 
health. Listening to this album is like being lost in a funhouse for 
hours, blindfolded, on speed and acid. It's like a psychotic porno Bugs 
Bunny cartoon. And it's the best album I've heard all year. You know by 
now that Mr. Bungle vocalist Vlad Dracula is really Faith No More's 
Mike Patton, and that he's been a member of this Eureka, CA band-also 
featuring bassist Trevor Dunn, guitarist Trey Spruance, drummer 
Danny Heifstz and sax players Theo Lengyel and Bear McKinnon-for 
several years. Now that you know that, forget it-and forget every 
other preconception about music that might be lurking in your brain. The 
only ready comparison for this bizarre, extremely talented band's unique 
fusion of styles are ultra-dense rap albums like Public Enemy or De La 
Soul (but Bungle's even wilder because there not enslaved to the rhythm) 
and John Zorn, whose production work on this impossibly complex album 
deserves a hall of fame award. Musically, the band changes channels 
approximately every 20 seconds, jolting between power-metal riffs, 
ambient balladry, speed-funk, horror movie soundtracks, nightclub 
jazz, weird chanting vocals, dialogue, backward tape-loops, and samples 
of everything from Nintendo to Fat Albert-and that's lust one song. Not 
just a groundbreakingly twisted musical experience, Mr. Bungle is also 
Tipper Gore's worst nightmare (how Warner Bros. could release this and 
refuse the Geto Boys defies mortal comprehension), a profane porno 
master piece that will continue to astound and revolt listeners for 
years to come. Mrs. Bungle should be proud. Oh yeah-plug "Squeez Me 
Macaroni," "The Girls Of Porn," "Love Is A Fist" and especially "My 
Ass Is On Fire."  (JA/KS)  © 1978-1998 College Media, Inc.  
Used by permission. All rights reserved.


Exclusive Review from CMJ-NMR:

	   Hailing from Eureka, CA, and the original vehicle for the myriad 
vocal energies of Mike Patton, Bungle's debut can be considered a 
Dali-esque mirror of the SanFran musical smorgasbord, to a comparatively 
Norman Rockwell Faith No More. Produced by John Zorn, the Bungle funhouse 
is heavily influenced by his Naked City project (as well as the Boredoms 
and Japanese hardcore), but like the mythological camelopard, its 
metallified loins, f-punk stripes, grind spots and operatic-polka-noir 
antlers are its own extremely skittish, musically omnivorous beast.  
Tirelessly rattling the album's cages and bouncing off of its walls, a 
standard Bungle song shatters and recombines into a thousand particles-a 
partial listing includes: ludicrous antics of the horn section colliding 
with Valkyrian crescendos, industrial lurching guitar, sampled absurdity 
and booby-trap time-changes, with narrator Patton's porno-contortionist 
vocals swinging from monkey chatter to Mr. Doomsday as the tempo strikes.  
Mr. Bungle is as complex, ambitious, painstakingly orchestrated and 
exhaustively sequenced as this decade's best rap albums; keeping up with 
the Bungle circus and its ever-evolving surprises should be a challenge 
even for the Nintendo generation. Advanced play: "Travolta," "Slowly 
Growing Deaf," "My Ass Is On Fire" and "Girls Of Porn."  
© 1978-1998 College Media, Inc.
		

 Quick Quotes			
	 3 stars - Good - "...a highly compulsive, strangely 
coherent debut..." 
		Q Magazine 9/91

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