emember Heat , the first movie to feature Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro actually sharing scenes? Lotta hype, lotta hope, lotta disappointment. How could such a summit of talent result in such an ordinary final product? DeNiro and Pacino were still at the top of their games. Director Michael Mann provided style and tension. Even the script was airtight. The problem was in the concept.


Heat was cursed by a lack of new ideas. No one needed to see another thief-based drama, nor did anyone need to see a movie where the villain and the cop know each other intimately. DeNiro and Pacino were relegated to playing the same intelligent, tough, motivated men they always play. Also, they spent very little screen time together, disappointing most of the movie’s audience. I was part of that audience, and I feel a familiar sense of dissatisfaction when I listen to the Fantomas/Melvins Big Band.


Millennium Monsterwork is a live recording of the Fantomas/Melvins show that took place on December 31, 1999 at Slim’s in San Francisco. Imagine: the two best bands from one of the world’s most adventurous labels combining their talents once and once only. A miracle in the making, right? Sadly, no. While I envy any and all who attended the show - I’d kill my girlfriend to see the Melvins again - no matter how many times I listen to it, I can’t get excited about this disc.


As in Heat , there is simply nothing fresh here. I was expecting full-blown collaboration between two original, creative bands who have been nothing but awesome for the past few years. Rather than give listeners warped Meltomas songs, Patton, Osbourne, et al. give us faithful renditions of Fantomas songs with different titles and Melvins songs that contain some Patton vocal screeching. (Said screeching, by the way, adds nothing to the songs.) Admittedly, the abrasive intro of “Good Morning Slaves” is an excellent album opener and “Ol’ Black Stooges” is a lively stomp of Melvins-ized rock, but that is virtually it for new material. For a label that prides itself on consistently releasing new, unheard sounds, it seems ironic that they’d put out something so redundant. No one needs to hear another live version of “The Bit” or “Hooch” and although hearing Fantomas nail every note, every neck-breaking shift live is mind-boggling, superior-sounding recordings of those notes and shifts can be found on Fantomas and Director’s Cut .


But Heat had a decided advantage over Millennium Monsterwork in that its creators had the time and the means to correct technical problems. The typical flaws of a soundboard recording abound. Both Trevor Dunn’s and Kevin Rutmanis’ bass playing goes predominantly unheard; the snare drum is inaudible during “The Omen”, which is significant considering the song is built on blast beats; the crowd - a huge factor in any Melvins or Fantomas gig - is almost eliminated. Generally this wouldn’t be a complaint, but with no variation taking place in the songs and a minimum of collaboration occurring between the two bands, crowd noise is the only thing differentiating these Monsterwork performances from the original recordings.


Simply put, the Monsterwork gig was a gimmick; an opportunity for some friends to jam together, an excuse for a great party and a dream come true for fans ( Dave Lombardo and Dale Crover drumming at the same time?! Mike Patton singing with the Melvins?! ), but it wasn’t put together in the hope of releasing it someday. Millennium Monsterwork is a souvenir of a gig, not a fully realized album. It’s cool that it’s out, and it is a testament to Ipecac’s willingness to keep their obsessive fans happy, but it is far from essential and will likely disappoint.