Michael Draine's Twisted Vista
Mission of Burma
The Obliterati
(Matador)
As a teen from a Boston suburb, I was
fortunate enough to see six Mission of
Burma shows at the outset of the ‘80s.
Mission of Burma defined the boundary-
breaking promise of punk, before the
movement lapsed into stylistic formula.
The group’s first long-player, vs.,
looked to be its swan song; Burma
disbanded in ‘83 as a result of guitarist
Roger Miller’s hearing problems.
Jump cut to the 21st century: Michael
Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your  
Life praised the group as men ahead Music Review Index
of their time, and bassist Clint Conley  
(now a Boston TV producer) had re-
connected with music, forming the band
Consonant. When MoB drummer Peter
Prescott’s Peer Group was asked to open
for Wire, Prescott invited Miller and
Conley to join him. The intended two-show
reunion sparked an authentic rebirth,
with new songs, touring, and the OnOffOn
CD. Despite 22 years separating
Burma’s first and second albums,
OnOffOn sounded much as the imagined
Burma sophomore LP would, with live
faves that didn’t make the first record,
tempered pace, and improved production.
Mission of Burma’s second incarnation
has outlived its first, and with The Obliterati,
has produced surpassing music. Foregoing
group compositions, each member writes
to the others’ strengths. Miller draws on 
chops honed across 30+ years in groups  R. Miller, P. Prescott, C.Conley
as diverse as Sproton Layer, Moving Parts,
Birdsongs of the Mesozoic, Exquisite
Corpse, Alloy Orchestra, and Binary
System. Mixing pulse music and ancient
history, Miller's “Donna Sumeria” 
brilliantly goofs on “I Feel Love,” with
tangled, cyclical guitar riffs
layered over a mechanodisco thump.
Miller’s dark “13” brings to perfection
the mournful, semi-acoustic trope Clint
Conley explored with less refinement
on OnOffOn. Conley still writes from
a position of personal outrage, while
Peter Prescott’s roaring punkers recall
the peaks of his post-Burma trio,
Volcano Suns. As in Mission of
Burma’s live sets, the music is
swathed in loops of druggy, subliminal
sounds, courtesy of Bob Weston.
The initial pressing of The Obliterati
includes a DVD with four ripping songs
taped live in 2005. This high-definition
footage captures the berserker intensity
and telepathic unity of Burma in concert,
neutered by producer Rick Harte on
The Horrible Truth About Burma.
Given the limits on the group’s tour 
schedule, the inclusion of this video is a
particularly thoughtful gesture.
Forward-looking, inviting, and accessible,
The Obliterati isn’t a reunion album,
but a renaissance, rearing its spiky
head as Mission of Burma’s most intricate
and devastating statement yet.
http://www.matadorrecords.com