Mission of Burma
The Obliterati
[Matador, 2006]

Welcomed as resurrected saviors during a dearth of decent anti-rock, the original manifestation of Mission of Burma countered a preponderance of prissy clothes, 45-degree bangs and sunglasses mirroring the insubstantial Boston times. But as the reconstituted band eases into their fifth year back together, the exasperated, relativistic accolades have to give way to honest examination.

However, it should be noted that the landscape hasn't changed much in the past two plus decades. When Clint Conley, Roger Miller and Peter Prescott closed down shop in 1982, the country was led by a deluded republican president intent on utilizing military force for geographic expansion under the banner of manifest destiny, the economy was in shambles due to the export of American jobs, and the populace were suffering a crisis of faith. Based on the similar state they returned to, we can hardly blame Mission of Burma for generating an exact replica of their angry political sound on 2006's The Obliterati.

Honestly though, there isn't that much to critique. The Obliterati, their second release after reuniting in 2001, is an improvement upon the cultural event that was 2004's Onoffon. Despite what some critics might say, it is an objective truth that Burma created the rock anthem. Past classics like "Academy Fight Song" and "That's When I Reach for My Revolver" from Signals, Calls & Marches have been covered more times than the field at Fenway Park during rain delays. The Obliterati sustains their mantle as kings of the anthem with blow away cuts like “Donna Sumeria,” “The Mute Speaks Out,” and “Nancy Reagan's Head.” The Obliterati also retains the same propulsive and varied drumming that was such a center-piece to the now classic Vrs. However Vrs. was released nearly a quarter of a century ago and The Obliterati wears the signs of aging; the classic sign of musical aging is a stronger interest in melody, hook, and a more mellow sound. One observes this sense of maturity in the soft, falsetto vocals on “Spider's Web”, the Nick Drake strings and acoustic opening of “13,” or the Zombies-style harmonies on “Donna Sumeria.” The album as a whole packs more rhythmic punch, shows more range, and is just as apt to find poppy hooks, sing-alongs, and soft strumming as it is to blow out the Marshalls; Burma is still able to slip into a delirious, chaotic bit of round-singing on "Careening With Conviction," and they ride a wave of dense sonic dissonance on “2wice.” A couple of tracks are tedious riff-meets-rhythm-in-murk. However, Burma maintain excellence and trounces obsolescence because their typical peak moment is a flash of hard truth about a situation, a bolt of clarity about action to be taken.

To conclude, few bands could reunite 20 years after breaking up and call it a success. Fewer still are those bands that can release an album that sounds so different from their classic material and yet stands up as its equal. And fewer bands still can follow up a cultural return like Onoffon with an even stronger album like The Obliterati. That puts Mission of Burma in a very select group indeed, and rock, however defined, rarely seems and sounds so important, so vital, and so impossible to resist or ignore as on The Obliterati.

- Patrick Beisell
KPSU Editorial Team