Mission Of Burma / Oneida
By Tim Bugbee
Monday. Feb 26, 1:47 PM
live at Paradise (Boston, MA) Jan. 20th, 2007.

Mission Of Burma were really a band out of their time: too late for punk, too strange for rock, way too hard for the burgeoning new wave crowd fascinated by whatever made-up twats were prancing around on the newly-minted MTV. Three years of existence produced a great LP (Vs.) and EP (Signals, Calls and Marches) that were unfortunately tossed into a maw of yawning indifference, and the band called it quits (for some good insight, read the chapter on them in Azzerad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life) with Clint retiring to TV production while Peter and Roger (though in a quieter manner, as deteriorating hearing was taking a toll) continued to slog it out in the grimy rock world (not sure whatever happened to soundman/tape manipulator Martin Swope). Fast forward to about 2000, when (according to the legend I heard ‘round the campfire) the three of them found each other at Boston’s Roxy for a reunited/rejuvenated Wire show. Huddles formed, ideas were thrown out (including enlisting Bob Weston, who played along side Prescott in Volcano Suns, to fill Swope’s position), and improbably the original three + 1 reformed for a couple of magic weekends in early 2002, playing to huge crowds in Boston and NYC (the first Avalon show was by far the most packed I’ve ever seen at that venue, and there were more than a few grey-haired fans with teenage children in tow).

Now I know you kids born in the ‘80s think that all these extinct 20+ year-old bands inevitably get back together for some fun and/or cash grabs (The Pixies, Dinosaur Jr., Slint, The Soft Boys, Gang Of Four, etc… hell, even Throbbing Gristle have now tossed their spiked helmet into the ring), but when Burma did it, it was fairly uncharted waters. What made it different for the Bostonians in question was that they actually got enervated enough to spark the creative juices and release two new kick ass LPs, including the fairly jaw-dropping The Obliterati of last year (well okay, I will concede that The Soft Boys did somewhat similar service, which did pre-date Burma, and coincidentally enough both were documented by Matador).

Clint’s day job still prevents massive road outings, but local and east coast shows have been occasional treats for the fans, and the sold-out crowd was clearly ready for a live thrashing of the new stuff. And they got it in droves. From the opening pounding drums of “2wice” (followed in rapid succession by the next two songs off of The Obliterati), the roar of Burma was back, instantly as recognizable and burning as the acrid, sulphurous fumes of a freshly struck match. And the volume was palpable, despite Roger’s well-chronicled bout with tinnitus; instead of the over-the-ear rifle range-type headphones, he had some custom in-ear plugs, but the “pope mobile” plexiglass rig which protected him against the pounding waves of Peter’s kick drums was still intact. As before, the format of two sets bisected by intermission was employed, and the first portion kicked in another two new songs (“Let Yourself Go,” “Nancy Reagan’s Head”) with some heavy nutritional doses of prime stuff – like “Academy Fight Song” and “This is Not a Photograph” – as well as a new one, “Slow Faucet.” The second set was also a bulldozer, containing more new stuff with “Monkey Boy,” frenzied readings of “Dirt,” “Man in Decline,” and “Revolver.” The spirited crowed even got Peter to comment that it almost made it seem like Boston was a nice place to live; the band were clearly enjoying the moment. The crushing closer of “That’s How Escaped My Certain Fate” was so complete: just one of those moments where the hair on your neck stands on end, when a band who knows they wrote a perfect song just strangles the crap out of it. Awesome in every way. The encore was capped by three surprises: a nugget off Vs. (“Secrets”), Chris Brokaw coming out for a Consonant song (“Buckets of Flowers, Porno Mags”), and the closer of “Good, Not Great” which had Bob clambering down from the sound booth and playing bass. Great, not merely good.

Openers Oneida were a big surprise for me. Their records tend to mire in a steady groove without much of interest along the way, but the ferociousness of THE GROOVE in a live setting was far more evident and engaging. As my friend put it, they have three drummers but only one sits behind a kit. Percussive playing is their trump card, and they do it well. Was funny to see a band open with a cover (YLT’s “Room Got Heavy”), which had me searching my rear cortex for ID purposes (had thought it was possibly a Silver Apples song) until I talked with Bobby Matador after the set. They also displayed a fine sense of humor (“This next one’s from a record, and it’s by Oneida” was their main stage banter), and overall I was pleasantly surprised. The new stuff (“Town Crier,” “Life You Preferred,” “Genesis”) sounded right at home next to the songs from the last two records, so that’s good news for Oneida fans.
www.missionofburma.com
www.enemyhogs.com

Tim Bugbee

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