The original four-year run of Boston post-punk crew Mission of Burma is the stuff of legend. The band released just one studio album, viagra 100mg one EP and a live record after forming in 1979, doctor but in those recordings, they laid the groundwork for innumerable noisy rock bands to come. Guitarist Roger Miller’s worsening tinnitus, brought on by the utterly bracing volume at which the band regularly performed, forced them to call it quits in 1983. Those four years together, and a near perfect discography to show for it, could have comfortably secured Mission of Burma’s reputation in indie rock lore. In 2002 though, the group unexpectedly reformed, unfazed by a two-decade absence and immediately hitting the road and the studio. Eleven years further down the line, Mission of Burma are still selling out shows and putting on visceral performances befitting of their legacy.
Saturday’s hometown gig at the newly opened Sinclair was one such event, demonstrating that Burma are perhaps a better and stronger live band now than they’ve ever been. As the title of their 1985 live album The Horrible Truth About Burma wryly acknowledged, they had a rather hit-or-miss reputation back in the day. In their ongoing reunion, however, they seem to have ironed out the kinks.
This is due, at least in part, to the fact that the core trio of guitarist Roger Miller, bassist Clint Conley and drummer Peter Prescott has remained the same since the band’s inception. Their approach divides songwriting and vocals between all three members, creating a sense of balance that’s reflected in their live sound as much as their records. On Saturday, the punchy rhythms of Conley’s bass and Prescott’s drumming blended perfectly with the sharp tones of Miller’s guitar, all ringing loud and clear through the Sinclair’s impressive sound system. Nothing gets buried in the mix with Mission of Burma; every note feels like an integral piece of the puzzle. The subtle backstage contributions of loop-master and auxiliary member Bob Weston can’t be understated either. Weston recorded, mixed and played back loops live as the band performed, adding a ghostly layer of swirling textures that complemented the trio’s surging intensity.
Burma have surely made no compromise on that intensity over the years. The band tore into their songs with frantic, furious energy. Prescott stayed rooted behind his ropelight-adorned kit, but Miller and Conley made good use of an open space in their animated stage presence. Conley’s manic facial expressions and physical acrobatics with his instrument were entertaining enough to justify the price of admission on their own. The volume may not have reached the tinnitus-inducing heights of the 80s, but the band still delivered a forceful kick.
With a new record out this year, the setlist was predictably forward thinking. Fortunately, the band’s material from Unsound and their three other post-reunion albums doesn’t sound out of place next to their early songs in the slightest. Their songwriting dynamic still results in a proper mix between shoutable anthems and more experimentally minded tracks, threaded together by their always-outstanding instrumental interplay. Scattered among the newer songs was a generous offering of fan favorites from Vs. and Signals Calls and Marches as well, including Conley’s beloved “Academy Fight Song” during a second encore.
Never ones to play entirely to their audience’s expectations, Burma also had a twist or two up their sleeve for this performance. Their already rich sound was bolstered even further by the controlled chaos of a two-piece horns section featuring Miller’s brother, which properly recreated the arrangements of select Unsound songs. The evening’s biggest surprise, though, came when Burma launched into a tribute to early Boston punk band DMZ during their first encore and was unexpectedly joined by the band’s former frontman Jeff Conolly. The eccentrically dressed Conolly bounded back and forth across the stage while shouting his lyrics and throwing mic stands around with appropriate punk rock abandon.
On this chilly Saturday evening, Mission of Burma proved once again that they can still subvert and exceed our expectations. They’ve overcome the odds against reunion act survival, continued to make great records and honed themselves into a powerhouse live band. Their adventurous spirit and willingness to experiment has never left them. And hell, when you’re least expecting it they’ll stage a revival of a long-dead progenitor punk band before your eyes. Here’s to another ten years.
Photo Credit: Ben Stas