o one could be blamed for thinking a collaboration between the Dillinger Escape Plan and Mike Patton would be an aggressive music fan’s dream come true. Both D.E.P. -- the reigning sadistic gymnasts of progressive hardcore -- and Patton -- he of the often-appropriate “hoo-haaa, chicketta-chicketta, bwoo-haa” -- have amassed relatively large fan bases by cutting their own unique swaths in the field of intelligent heavy music. But each half of this collaboration also has its share of detractors. Many see both Patton and the Plan’s consistent convention-fucking as one-trick schticks -- how many times can Patton build a song around a grunt? how much longer can Dillinger go without writing a riff that people actually like the sound of? -- despite the fact that all the parties involved here are incredible musicians who deserve at least some, if not most, of the credit that gets lobbed in their direction.


And it’s those oft-complimented aspects -- the originality, the single-minded creative goals -- that are sacrificed throughout Irony Is a Dead Scene. Rather than elevate their metallic bombardment in honour of their respected guest vocalist, the Dillinger Escape Plan occupy too much of the disc’s eighteen minutes trying to emulate Mr. Bungle. That’s less than shocking -- they’re big Bungle fans and are among the host of bands who subscribe to Patton’s brand of lunatic unorthodoxy -- but it is disappointing, for the most striking moments found on Irony occur when Patton is playing by Dillinger’s rules. On his end, Patton spends much of the disc sounding just like Mike Patton. Armed with no new tricks and displaying no sign of expansion, Patton brings something new to Dillinger, but what he’s bringing is rather old.


The first few seconds of the e.p. would have you believe otherwise. A battering blast of deathmath and Pattonscreams® open Irony, rendering all expectations awaiting the disc fully met. But “Hollywood Squares” soon shifts into Mr. Bungle/Faith No More territory; a driving verse recalling the mania of the former and a less than effective chorus that features the uncomfortable tunefulness of the latter. Cartoonish melodies leapfrog over the strangling hardcore, but rather than leave you gasping for breath, “Squares” merely piques your curiosity: How will the work put into this disc affect the future sounds of Patton and Dillinger? Can this new madness be constructed by D.E.P. without enlisting outside help? Will the next song be better than this one?


While the first two queries will only be answered in time, the third receives a quick response: no. “Pig Latin” features Irony’s most Bungled moments: a bouncing, staccato acoustic guitar line accompanied by hushed vocals; a decidedly cheesy movement built around Patton’s baritone moaning of “fucking your brains out”; restrained carnival massacre thrash accented by Ewok-esque chirping. The charging hardcore that fills out the rest of the track is blistering, but far from strong enough to save the song from being everything sceptics expected this e.p. to sound like: a cross between D.E.P. and Mr. Bungle that fails to capture the brilliance, imagination or listening pleasure of either.


That being said, “When Good Dogs Do Bad Things” is fabulous. Unlike the previous tracks, “Good Dogs” is the first sign of relentlessness. Those moments not filled with Dillinger’s slamming squiggle-squall and Patton’s intense bellowing (his screams are truly excellent and could have/should have carried this e.p.) are ambient, prickly and subdued, and serve to feed a titanic screamcore crescendo that gets the nod as the pinnacle of Irony Is a Dead Scene.


That climax may be partly responsible for why the cover of “Come To Daddy” is such a dog. A nifty concept, but despite some incredible drumming, an all-to-brief freeform break and the instrumental ending, “Come To Daddy” suffers the same fate as most of the electronic music that was being made when Aphex Twin created the original: the repetitiveness of both its beat and refrain kill it.


As an avante-gardist, improviser and madman, Mike Patton is used to subjecting listeners to musical experiments that provide a number of fascinating moments amongst a tangle of incomprehensible filler. As one of the metal world’s most talked about young bands, the Dillinger Escape Plan have grown accustomed to respect, awe and the odd cynical slam. In this respect, Irony Is a Dead Scene is a true collaboration -- a 1:1 ratio of the most common aspects of each entity involved -- and that proves to be the disc’s biggest problem.