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Mike Patton has discussed the future of @FaithNoMore: "We don't have a plan after this tour or this record": http://t.co/qSaD4C6Yk4
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Faith No More bassist Bill Gould likes to think of the band's new record as an aging actress.

"Sure, her body's getting a little older, but she's not afraid to show it; she's still sexy," he said during a recent interview in New York City, where the band played two sold-out shows in support of Sol Invictus, its first in 18 years released last week.

"When you're younger and you're insecure, in a way you don't have the mojo, the juice, you know," he said.

The 52-year-old Gould and the rest of his bandmates -- keyboardist Roddy Bottum, drummer Mike Bordin, guitarist Jon Hudson and singer Mike Patton -- disbanded in 1998 and spent some time apart before regrouping in 2009 to play reunion shows.

That hiatus, together with the musical legacy they built during the late 1980s and 1990s with albums like The Real ThingAngel Dust, and Album of the Year, has given them the confidence and perspective to re-launch their collaboration on their own terms. They briefly considered returning to a major label, but ultimately decided to forgo external deadlines and pressures and instead handle everything themselves.

Sol Invictus was engineered and recorded by Gould in his studio space in Oakland in 2014 and 2015, and is being released on Reclamation Recordings, a subsidiary of Patton's own Ipecac Recordings label.

"We've all kind of grown into parts where we can actually contribute now in our own capacity," Gould said. "We all kind of got good at what we did in different ways and it all kind of helps the whole."

Faith No More's Mike Patton: 'I Don't Care Who Listens' to Our New Album

For a band that once briefly flirted with the mainstream following the success of the catchy, rap-meets-metal mega-hit "Epic," having the freedom to dictate whether they put out a record, tour or make an appearance at this point in their lives is a top priority.

"An old man only looks to the next day," the 47-year-old Patton said. "We're old men.

"So what you do is, you look to the next day or the next plan, and, honestly, we don't have a plan after this tour or this record."

In a wide-ranging interview, Patton and Gould discussed the origins of the new album and the challenges of not being a normal band.

You're a weird band:

Even at the height of their popularity, Gould said the band was always wary of overstaying their welcome at Slash/Warner Bros.

Gould: We were always told, "Failure is just right around the corner. You're a weird band. You don't make radio-friendly music and you're not going to survive unless you keep working."

Bordin: "You're going to lose your house."

Gould: I took that to heart. I totally was terrified back then.

Bordin: I wasn't. But I took it as a threat. OK, someone's coming after me. You do what you do, and I think that this record is the best example of doing that. We're just being us. There's no pretentions.

Going Goth, Growing Gray With...Faith No More

Reunion: Natural, but surprising:

Sol Invictus was spearheaded by Gould who, unbeknownst to the rest of the band, had been writing and recording new material in his studio.

Patton: I didn't bring any songs or ideas to the record on an elemental level because I didn't know we were going to make a record. There was one night when (Gould) took me over to his house and goes, "Hey, check out this (expletive) I'm working on." 

But he didn't say it was Faith No More, at least I don't remember it that way. It wasn't predetermined. It's not like we all sat down and went, "Let's make a new Faith No More record." When I heard it, I said, "You got a great new band. Who's going to sing?" He said, "No, I want you to sing." I'm like, "OK, who's playing on it?" It turns out it was a Faith No More record.

Patton the Craftsman:

One of the hallmarks of Faith No More's records has always been Patton's unmatched voice, and Sol Invictus is no exception. 

His ability to adeptly go from a Sinatra-esque croon to a death metal growl and every other vocal styling in between is in full display on songs like "Rise of the Fall" and "Matador."

Patton: All I do is try and fit into whatever, and this could be Faith No More or any other thing that I've done. "Hey, what's needed?" I'm like a carpenter. I see my job as that. You need some spackle? You need some venetian plaster? Do you need some help with the roof? That's really the only way I see it. I don't think I did anything spectacular on this record. It was what was needed.

Faith No More Announces North America Tour, Makes Progress on Album

Gould: But what he did fit with everything else. We didn't have to do a whole lot to it when we got it. He worked it out so that it all came together, like a craftsman. It wasn't like, "Let's get some ideas and fix them later and make them all fit in." He gave us pretty close to a finished thing.

Patton: Maybe earlier in our days I had agendas like, "Oh, I got to use some weird avant-garde harmonies or whatever." This time, no, not at all. What's necessary, what does the music need? Very simple.

Faith No More bassist Bill Gould likes to think of the band's new record as an aging actress.

"Sure, her body's getting a little older, but she's not afraid to show it; she's still sexy," he said during a recent interview in New York City, where the band played two sold-out shows in support of Sol Invictus, its first in 18 years released last week.

"When you're younger and you're insecure, in a way you don't have the mojo, the juice, you know," he said.

The 52-year-old Gould and the rest of his bandmates -- keyboardist Roddy Bottum, drummer Mike Bordin, guitarist Jon Hudson and singer Mike Patton -- disbanded in 1998 and spent some time apart before regrouping in 2009 to play reunion shows.

That hiatus, together with the musical legacy they built during the late 1980s and 1990s with albums like The Real ThingAngel Dust, and Album of the Year, has given them the confidence and perspective to re-launch their collaboration on their own terms. They briefly considered returning to a major label, but ultimately decided to forgo external deadlines and pressures and instead handle everything themselves.

Sol Invictus was engineered and recorded by Gould in his studio space in Oakland in 2014 and 2015, and is being released on Reclamation Recordings, a subsidiary of Patton's own Ipecac Recordings label.

"We've all kind of grown into parts where we can actually contribute now in our own capacity," Gould said. "We all kind of got good at what we did in different ways and it all kind of helps the whole."

For a band that once briefly flirted with the mainstream following the success of the catchy, rap-meets-metal mega-hit "Epic," having the freedom to dictate whether they put out a record, tour or make an appearance at this point in their lives is a top priority.

"An old man only looks to the next day," the 47-year-old Patton said. "We're old men.

"So what you do is, you look to the next day or the next plan, and, honestly, we don't have a plan after this tour or this record."

In a wide-ranging interview, Patton and Gould discussed the origins of the new album and the challenges of not being a normal band.

You're a weird band:

Even at the height of their popularity, Gould said the band was always wary of overstaying their welcome at Slash/Warner Bros.

Gould: We were always told, "Failure is just right around the corner. You're a weird band. You don't make radio-friendly music and you're not going to survive unless you keep working."

Bordin: "You're going to lose your house."

Gould: I took that to heart. I totally was terrified back then.

Bordin: I wasn't. But I took it as a threat. OK, someone's coming after me. You do what you do, and I think that this record is the best example of doing that. We're just being us. There's no pretentions.

Reunion: Natural, but surprising:

Sol Invictus was spearheaded by Gould who, unbeknownst to the rest of the band, had been writing and recording new material in his studio.

Patton: I didn't bring any songs or ideas to the record on an elemental level because I didn't know we were going to make a record. There was one night when (Gould) took me over to his house and goes, "Hey, check out this (expletive) I'm working on." 

But he didn't say it was Faith No More, at least I don't remember it that way. It wasn't predetermined. It's not like we all sat down and went, "Let's make a new Faith No More record." When I heard it, I said, "You got a great new band. Who's going to sing?" He said, "No, I want you to sing." I'm like, "OK, who's playing on it?" It turns out it was a Faith No More record.

Patton the Craftsman:

One of the hallmarks of Faith No More's records has always been Patton's unmatched voice, and Sol Invictus is no exception. 

His ability to adeptly go from a Sinatra-esque croon to a death metal growl and every other vocal styling in between is in full display on songs like "Rise of the Fall" and "Matador."

Patton: All I do is try and fit into whatever, and this could be Faith No More or any other thing that I've done. "Hey, what's needed?" I'm like a carpenter. I see my job as that. You need some spackle? You need some venetian plaster? Do you need some help with the roof? That's really the only way I see it. I don't think I did anything spectacular on this record. It was what was needed.

Gould: But what he did fit with everything else. We didn't have to do a whole lot to it when we got it. He worked it out so that it all came together, like a craftsman. It wasn't like, "Let's get some ideas and fix them later and make them all fit in." He gave us pretty close to a finished thing.

Patton: Maybe earlier in our days I had agendas like, "Oh, I got to use some weird avant-garde harmonies or whatever." This time, no, not at all. What's necessary, what does the music need? Very simple.

Two B.B. King heirs who've been most outspoken about the blues legend's care in his final days have accused King's two closest aides of poisoning him, but the attorney for King's estate called the claims ridiculous and police said there was no active homicide investigation.

Three doctors determined that King was appropriately cared-for, and King received 24-hour care and monitoring by medical professionals "up until the time that he peacefully passed away in his sleep," attorney Brent Bryson told the AP on Monday.

Daughters Karen Williams and Patty King allege that family members were prevented from visiting while King's business manager, LaVerne Toney, and his personal assistant, Myron Johnson, hastened their father's death.

2 of B.B. King's Daughters Allege Aides Poisoned Him

Toney is named in King's will as executor of an estate that, according to court documents filed by lawyers for some of King's heirs, could total tens of millions of dollars.

Johnson was at B.B. King's bedside when he died May 14 in hospice care at home in Las Vegas at age 89. No family members were present.

"I believe my father was poisoned and that he was administered foreign substances," Patty King and Williams say in identically worded sections of affidavits provided to The Associated Press by their lawyer, Larissa Drohobyczer.

"I believe my father was murdered," they say.

An autopsy was performed Sunday. Test results will take up to eight weeks to obtain and shouldn't be affected by the fact that King's body had been embalmed, Clark County Coroner John Fudenberg said.

B.B. King Memorial More Cheers Than Tears in Las Vegas

Fudenberg issued a statement Monday saying there was no immediate evidence supporting the murder allegations, and Las Vegas police Lt. Ray Steiber told the AP that there was no active homicide investigation.

Toney and Johnson each declined to comment on the accusations.

"They've been making allegations all along. What's new?" said Toney, who worked for King for 39 years and had power-of-attorney over his affairs.

A week before King's death, a judge in Las Vegas dismissed a request from Williams to take over as King's guardian.

An April 29 petition alleged that Toney had blocked King's friends from visiting him and had put her family members on King's payroll. It also alleged that large sums of money had disappeared from King's bank accounts.

But Clark County Family Court Hearing Master Jon Norheim said on May 7 that police and social services investigations in October and April uncovered no reason to take power-of-attorney from Toney.

Williams, Patty King and another daughter - Rita Washington - vowed to keep fighting.

"We lost the battle, but we haven't lost the war," Williams said then.

This week's allegations come days after a public viewing in Las Vegas drew more than 1,000 fans and mourners and a weekend family-and-friends memorial drew 350. A Beale Street procession and memorial are scheduled Wednesday in Memphis, Tennessee, followed by a Friday viewing and Saturday burial in King's hometown of Indianola, Mississippi.

In Memoriam: B.B. King, 1925-2015

Fudenberg said Monday that his office's investigation shouldn't delay those services.

Bryson said the allegations were "extremely disrespectful" to King.

"He did not want invasive medical procedures," he said. "He made the decision to return home for hospice care instead of staying in a hospital. These unfounded allegations have caused Mr. King to undergo an autopsy, which is exactly what he didn't want."

Drohobyczer said she represents Williams, Patty King and most of King's nine other adult children and heirs.

"The family is sticking together ... to oust Ms. Toney based on her illegal conduct, conflicts of interest and self-dealing," she said. She alleged that Toney hastened King's death by "misconduct, or by failing to properly attend to his medical needs."

An affidavit from Patty King, who used to live at King's home, says she saw Johnson administer to King two drops of an unknown substance on his tongue during evenings for several months before his death, and that Toney never told her what the substance was.

Bryson called Drohobyczer's claims ridiculous.

"I hope they have a factual basis that they can demonstrate for their defamatory and libelous allegations," he said.


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