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System Of A Down
/ Incubus / Mr Bungle / Puya
 ..1/22/00 S.F Ca
....This year at the
Warfield in San Francisco the lineup of System of a Down, Incubus, Mr. Bungle
and Puya wasn't finalized until mid-December. Musically, Sno-Core 2000 deviated
from the standard Korn and Bizkit rock menu. All the participants were plenty
heavy, but they strayed from popular metal forms with ethnic influences --
namely the Puerto Rico-bred Puya's Afro-Cuban/Caribbean/salsa rhythms --
dynamic shifts and interrupted melodies. This commercialism hardly shocks the
new generation of hardcore punk/metal fans. In fact, they're so aware of their
own consumerism they halfway expect to be bombarded by advertisements. Unlike
the black-clad outsiders that defined heavy metal in the '80s, current
metalheads are a culture of teens raised on designer clothing and violent video
games who express themselves through materialism rather than trying to destroy
it. When "Welcome to the Jungle" flashed on the video screen, Axle
Rose got a respectful response; when a Dr. Dre video showed him stepping out of
a European sports car, it practically got a standing ovation. The performers of
this heavy music are a strange mix of Korn-like metal mania mix bands, cutting
through the sonic madness and trying to make their mark.
.
.....Though System
of a Down were the nominal headliners, Incubus had all the makings of future
wunderkinds of alt-rock radio. Any displays of personality were left to the
absurdist rock outfit Mr. Bungle, led by former Faith No More singer Mike
Patton, who could have made this the most warped tour ever if he had lent a few
of his head-spinning musical ideas to the acts that followed him. Instead, the
show's most explosive 30 minutes of metal, drum 'n' bass, p olka and reggae--all of them often in the same
song--were relegated to a support-band slot. Mr. Bungle, the once-side project
of Faith No More's Mike Patton, gleefully and willfully confused the crowd with
their carnival atmosphere zipping through bits and pieces of klezmer,
rockabilly and thrash-metal without fully developing any one of them. Not even
the song "Sweet Charity" came off as a complete song. Opening with a
lounge rendition of Burt Bacharach's "What the World Needs Now," the
band came out dressed like the Village People, with Patton as white-capped
sailor man. Sticking with the theme they all look like the 70s band the"
Village People". Patton baited the predominantly macho crowd with goofy
phases. "He acted like a Ass?" he asked the booing crowd, what's
inside all these baggy pants here tonight. They reacted by extending their
middle finger. Patton reacted by saying be careful where you put that thing --
you might enjoy it!" Patton also got a rise out of the Sno-Corers by
ripping on some LA heroes ("Red Hot Junkie Peppers".
....Incubus preceded to the
stage, things were a little more temperate.
 With Mike Einziger's shimmering guitar work and DJ
Chris Kilmore busy at the turntables, washes of sound and echo-like scratching
gave a moody feel to the band's neo-metal. At times, when Einziger got lost in
his effects pedals, Incubus could have been the hard rock cousin of Slowdive ,
as swirls of feedback in "The Warmth" looped around the melodies,
squalling and chirping like birds. Singer Brandon Boyd did double duty as a
percussionist, with a bongo secured around his waist during half the set, as
his shirt threatened to come off, inching up higher and higher until he tore it
off in the midst of "Pardon Me." Swaying as if he were about to fall
over, he looked as impassioned as he sounded, tilting as far back as his body
would allow, limber as a rag doll. His mic could have been turned up more, but
the fans didn't mind . Incubus has really been hard at work since I interviewed
them last year at the Bottom Of the Hill Club in San Francisco, and found them
very promising. Their music is more polished now .
...... But where
Incubus seemed to captivate the crowd when at their gentlest, System of a Down
coaxed out the inner thrasher in all, indulging in joke Slayer riffs and a
cover of Black Sabbath's "Snow-blind." Looking like a mad Rasputin in
his traditional Armenian garb, frontman Serj Tankian stomped, sneered and
howled through his songs about sex, drugs and politics. Body-painted guitarist
Daron Malakian, bassist Shavo Odadjian and Tankian constantly played off each
other, at times simulating whipping each other. Tankian's hand movements, hands
clasped as if in prayer, gave an odd sense of reverence to the herky-jerky
guitar lines. Last time I saw System of Down was last summer and they really
have come 360 with crazier stage presents .They have all the glamour and
glitter of Heavy Metal, mixed with a little Alice Copper.
By Randy
Cohen
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