Mission Of Burma
Vs

THE REVIEW

If there's one collective among the early hardcore bands that has stood out more than evidently for the originality of their proposal, it's the collective of the Bostonian Mission Of Burma (Roger Miller, Clint Conley, and Peter Prescott), who contend with their contemporaries, Flipper from San Francisco, for the title of the punk band with the most experimental approach.

The year of grace for the American punk-rock of the second wave is 1982: during that period, authentic masterpieces of the genre are released, such as "Walk Among Us" by Misfits, "Record" by Fear, "Death Of Innocence" by Legal Weapon, "Miami" by Gun Club, "If I Die I Die" by Virgin Prunes, and, indeed, "Generic" by Flipper and "Vs" by Mission Of Burma. The first three are exceptional examples of intense hardcore in the vein of Germs; records with a sound that is simple, raw, and brutal at the same time. The fourth and fifth records are linked, respectively, to the tradition of roots-rock and gothic dark, and, truthfully, only marginally related to punk.

But it's the last two albums mentioned that stand out for a sound mostly alien to the schemes and blind fury of hardcore, yet remain within its specific contours. "Vs", in particular, is the album I prefer between the two. Burma's music is at times raw, yes, for sure; at times it's brutal and frenetic, absolutely true; at times it's aggressive, rancid, foul, skewed, as in the best tradition; all correct, all true. However, gentlemen, Burma's music is not just this: it is also research, contamination, experimentation, in a word, avant-garde. Indeed, because it boldly reveals the desire to seek something "more" than just guitar massacre and unpleasant, piercing, animalistic screams: the band uses electronics, tape manipulation (good old Miler was a genius at this art), and their compositions are very close to an elastic and almost elegant power-pop. Not to mention the frequent melody of their songs and the use of singing that is anything but unpleasant.

The album begins, it's very true, with "Secrets" which is a usual frenetic guitar ride typical of the punk dogma, but right away you realize there's something different: the three-part harmony is at least innovative. But this is only the beginning: "Train" presents a complex underlying harmony that makes it difficult to talk about "punk". Similarly, it's even harder to discuss "Trem Two", which brings the trio closer to psychedelia and raga, while Miller's and Conley's voices are unusually relaxed, calm, without any brutality. The atmosphere is, thus, serene and everything seems crafted to quell any kind of emotion. The resulting effect is highly estranging: our heroes seem like three bored guys observing the incessant passage of time, lost in their thoughts.

Things change with "New Nails", which is nonetheless a very cultured exercise. Pervaded by a sinister tremor, this track presents a sudden evolution, full of electronically manipulated voices and distorted samples. "Dead Pool" returns to a relaxed state; the melody seems to gradually wilt like a leaf on the ground, and simultaneously the main theme is characterized by an imperceptible melancholy, by a certain nostalgia that rediscover the Californian rock of David Crosby. All this to say that, right from the first tracks, the album appears as a brilliant mine of quotations and bold experiments. After the crescendo chaos of "Learn How", "Mica" resumes the theme of catchiness, with simultaneously simple yet chaotic riffs. Miller's vocal performance persists in remaining serenely detached, driven by an almost childlike enthusiasm. Where have the rebellion chants and anarchic slogans so typical of early hardcore gone? Here the only remaining element seems to be existential anxiety, although a completely different anxiety than that of a Johnny Rotten or a Derby Crash.

"Weather Box" is one of the many treasures in the collection: the disjointed and deconstructed structure reminds one of the most zany performances by Devo. It's a march for androids contaminated by a certain jazz taste. (Jazz is one of the essential underlying elements of their art). "No Einstein" is characterized by a certain solemnity, accented by Miller's singing, which, even though estranging and meowing, aims at magniloquence. In the end, guitar, and bass counterpoints fade the whole thing, giving it an emotional disorientation attribute. "Fun World" is the song that most recalls the Minutemen, and their funk-jazz contaminated hardcore. In its own way, however, it is one of the most "punk" performances of the entire lot.

It almost seems like a joke "That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate": the initial part is determined and vigorous from an instrumental point of view, with a magnificently revolving bass, but then, in the chorus, who doesn't think of Japanese cartoon theme songs? (!) Next comes "Forget", one of the most beautiful pieces, with a decidedly catchy and slightly "romantic" refrain. These are the moments that ultimately make us talk about a "turning point" compared to the underground scene of the early decade. And the long final tail of "Progress" is a worthy conclusion to an epochal and undoubtedly "breakthrough" album, an album that did not enjoy much commercial success, but it's just as well that way!

Works of art, we know, are never adequately understood by the masses.