Release DateSeptember 4, 1990
StylesAlternative Metal Alternative Pop/Rock Alternative/Indie Rock Heavy Metal Industrial Industrial Metal Industrial Dance
Album Moods Nihilistic Aggressive Angry Angst-Ridden Bitter Bleak Brooding Eerie Gloomy Harsh Hostile Intense Malevolent Menacing Ominous Raucous Rowdy Somber Tense/Anxious Visceral Wintry
Album Themes Drinking Guys Night Out Introspection Scary Music
AllMusic Review by Ned Raggett
By the time of A Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste, Ministry had amassed enough of an arsenal of gear and a hardcore coterie of fans to make the band's shows literally explosive affairs in some cases. Also released as an accompanying video, which shows more than a few audience members seemingly uncaring about potential dismemberment, In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up is only six songs long, but delivers big time for each of them. The weird atmosphere of glowering goth and avant thrash metal that combined with the more direct dancefloor antics of Alain Jourgensen, Paul Barker, and company makes for a particularly potent combination live. Jourgensen's hoarsely roared, wracked vocals, given just enough electronic distortion to really cause some blood to flow, suit the various reinterpretations of The Land of Rape and Honey and A Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste material, three songs from each. For the most part the live takes closely resemble the studio cuts aside from length; while the galloping "Deity" sticks to the original's three-minute headcrush, "So What" turns into an extended vamp, arguably going on a little too long but generally having fun with its own horror-movie slasher theatrics, as well as kicking off with a slow burn, just creepy enough start. The whooshing swoops and siren noises that kick off "Burning Inside" show how well Ministry can rework material for maximum impact as needed. The end of the disc provides the real highlights, with absolutely brutal versions of "Thieves" and a nervous, intense "Stigmata" polishing things off; Jourgensen's profane rant against anything and everything at the end in particular reaches some sort of weird apotheosis of unalloyed hatred. Occasional comments to the crowd along the lines of, "Looks like we got a little frisky bunch here!" show that for all the musical and lyrical violence, Ministry knew how to keep a sense of humor intact -- something more than a few followers forgot.