BSPH: Faith No More - Woodpecker from Mars

"Woodpecker from Mars" is an instrumental performed by Faith No More. It was written by Jim Martin and Mike Bordin and released in 1989 on an album "The Real Thing". "Woodpecker from Mars" is something of a dark horse in Faith No More catalogue. It happened to be stuck between bands bigger hits. But it is wrong to dismiss it as an album filler. It is one of the best Faith No More composition ever. 

Conceptually "Woodpecker from Mars" shows the dissonant nature of the band - earnest pop melodies, laced with funky grooves and covered in heavy metal. It is a vertical slice of what Faith No More is about. It shows their ability to seamlessly combine various elements into a coherent whole. Stylistically it is a throwback to grandeur of 70s prog-rock - Emerson, Lake and Palmer in particular. 

The structure of "Woodpecker from Mars" is very dynamic. It goes from one point to another like ravaging beast - tearing it apart. Melody does the opposite - it ties the bits together. Musically it is a combination of eastern flavored melody and bonecrushing alliance of guitar, bass and drums. The band thrashes its way through, plunders the landscape like a horde of huns or mongols and thrashes every bit to dust out of spite. Roddy Bottum's synth leads flies over those clouds of rubble - fiddle melody makes sense of it. It never blends with the rest of the arrangement but nevertheless stays its central part.

"Woodpecker from Mars" starts quietly with a synth fiddle melody. Then the band crashes into it as they've broke through the gates as water of sorts. They're doing Iron Maiden galloping while the melody does a couple of arabesques. Then the whole thing shortly turns into a warped waltz where every instrument tries to jump higher. After that goes another round of galloping which morphs into a backwards variation of the waltz rhythms. Then it all breaks down. Focus shifts from a melody to the band - they stomp on one place, doing stereotypical Spaced-out Punked-up doom Pink Floyd interlude. There must be dogs barking somewhere. Then it goes back to galloping. This time Jim Martin's guitar overtakes the lead and provides walls of screeching fiery feedback noise. Then fiddle melody returns for one final round. But now it drowning in the instrumentation. The whole thing ends suddenly just because.

Salvador Dali would've loved it.