SOMEBODY PUT THEM TOGETHER

Holy sweet merciful mother of fuck. Faith No More. Reunion. Tour. Finally. Bassist Billy Gould in a statement to Blabbermouth:

Throughout our 17 years of existence, the mental and physical energy required to sustain [Faith No More] was considerable and relentless. Though amicable enough, when we finally split, we all followed paths seemingly destined to opposite ends of the universe. Yet during the entire 10 years that have passed since our decision to break up, we've experienced constant rumors and requests from fans and promoters alike. Nevertheless, for whatever reason, none of us kept in regular touch, much less to discuss any possibilities of getting together.

What's changed is that this year, for the first time, we've all decided to sit down together and talk about it. And what we've discovered is that time has afforded us enough distance to look back on our years together through a clearer lens and made us realize that through all the hard work, the music still sounds good, and we are beginning to appreciate the fact that we might have actually done something right. Meanwhile, we [now] find ourselves with zero label obligations, still young and strong enough to deliver a kick-ass set, with enthusiasm to not only revisit our past but possibly add something to the present. And so with this we've decided to hold our collective breaths and jump off this cliff.... BACK, GOD FORBID, INTO THE MONKEY CAGE!!!

We can only hope that the experience of playing together again will yield results erratic and unpredictable enough to live up to the legacy of FNM.

Whenever I get all retrospective (around hour three of mushrooms), it becomes clear that the turning point in my life was soon after gazing on a cassette copy of FNM's epic (sorry) album The Real Thing through shreds of wrapping paper a little more than ugh 19 years ago. Days later, when the album sank in, the seemingly unconquerable outside world from which I'd retreated suddenly shrank to a manageable size, a perspective viewed effortlessly from all angles. If these five non-brain surgeons could master something so elusive and intangible (pop music) while coming off like drug-gobbling, piss-drinking, fish-torturing goofballs, then SHIT so could I. Thanks, Dad!