The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste

Ministry, 1989

In party conversation, when I'm trying to explain my aesthetic journey from punk rock to free jazz, I often end up referencing Ministry. My line is that free jazz showed me that elements of chaos were far more intense than tightly choreographed structure could hope to be. For example, compare John Coltrane's Ascension to Ministry's Paslm 69. For all their brash in-your-faceness, Ministry is nowhere near as unsettling as Coltrane—and the jazz great was actually trying to inspire, not intimidate us. I pick on Ministry because there's something so cartoonish in their aggression. It only felt genuinely threatening when I was too young to understand.

Which is a long, backhanded way to get around to saying that I love listening to Ministry. It may be simply that it's damnably hard to escape nostalgia's clutches, but I do think there's an honest enjoyment in it—just maybe not the one the band intended. I listen to Ministry like I read comic books: with a guilty pleasure grain of salt and dose of self-deprecation. At their peak—and The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste is almost certainly that, still dynamic with great turns by their coconspirators—their caricature of outraged intensity is counter-culture junk food I find hard to resist.