Blood Axis
The Gospel Of Inhumanity

"But this way we're just hurting ourselves!"

I open with Moretti's words precisely to tone down the discussion from the start, to avoid fruitless debates, and to attempt a reflection that seeks to go beyond political prejudices and partisanship. Because these are fascists, folks! No ambiguity, no possibility of misunderstanding, no right of correction: they are here and they make their presence known. I make this clear right away for those who might have issues with it.

As for me, who is also left-wing, I would like to understand what leads a person to listen to and appreciate this album, which, to be honest, does everything possible to not be appreciated. The same question could be posed differently: why, at the end of the '60s, were some people fleeing the comforting notes of the Beatles and preferring to damage their eardrums with the rivers of feedback and wild chaos of the early Velvet Underground? Why did people in the late '70s feel the need to annihilate themselves with the stark and unsettling sound of Suicide? Didn't we like the progressive sounds of Pink Floyd and Genesis, the intelligent experiments of Eno? And why in '86, the year of the release of a beautiful and complete album like "Master Of Puppets," was there anyone who preferred to shred their ears with Bathory, Celtic Frost, and similarly evil company? And what about the incredible success and influence of an album like "Scum"? Isn't that an objectively bad album? And what unhealthy instinct draws us today toward the music of Merzbow and Naked City? Why, ultimately, do we want to hurt ourselves?
 
One might easily conclude that a certain masochistic tendency has always been inherent in human nature, leading us to pursue and experience traumatic and unpleasant experiences and that, in some unclear way, humans seem unable to resist the allure of the extreme, which often coincides, or wants to coincide, with the aesthetically ugly. Yes, perhaps that expression is the most appropriate: this album by Blood Axis is aesthetically ugly and, beyond any personal judgment on what is beautiful and ugly, it is extreme, terribly extreme, in form and substance, in music as in concept.

From a strictly musical perspective, we are faced with music that calling industrial is an insult to the genre itself, as this is nothing but a mishmash of all kinds of material, often from very distant shores: symphonic openings, classical music, ambient snippets, narrating voices, samples, various noises, incursions of apocalyptic folk, dark and doom metal, all elements that contribute to creating a gloomy atmosphere, funereal and nihilistic.
But that's not the problem; the problem is the conceptual side, because the ideological belief of our friends becomes truly too pressing throughout the duration of the disc, at times making it difficult to endure. And so, amongst layers of synths and poorly programmed drum machines, it’s not uncommon to find invectives from crazy orators, moments of fierce bellicosity, incomprehensible discourses in German but of dubious content, and a whole lot of nostalgia. And thank goodness my English isn’t good enough to understand the lyrics; otherwise, it would be a mess!

A CD I would be ashamed to propose to friends, except as a mockery object, that I certainly wouldn’t gift to a girl to impress her, a CD, however, that finds space in the loneliness of my room, away from others' looks and judgments. But why does this damned disc periodically end up in my player? What is its appeal?
I have long learned to separate music from politics (even if, in cases like these, the task is truly arduous), relying only on emotions. After all, I ask you, don’t CCCP make great music regardless of their political beliefs? For this reason, the question I asked myself was: can a left-wing person listen to the music of Blood Axis? And my answer was: yes, they can, just as a vegetarian can eat a pan of crap. Because here it’s not a matter of taste, but rather of having a stomach of steel!

We were talking about emotions. And, willing or not, this album evokes emotions. It's a fact, there's no denying it. This album carries an undeniable value, it can exert an irresistible charm and an almost incomprehensible magnetism. The more I perceive the flaws and naiveties, the more I realize that, in its being a compact amalgam of unease and suggestions (a calculated collection of atrocities, as if the group's intent was precisely to select an accurate sample of “uncomfortable” ideas, thoughts, and viewpoints that man had to banish and exorcize from his social and cultural life to safeguard mental health), it manages to hit the target directly. Its effectiveness is perhaps its main merit. The second is certainly courage. The third: the fact that it represents a unique specimen, something unparalleled to anything else produced in the history of music (the records of Der Blutharsch make one smile in comparison and perhaps the only benchmark, albeit on substantially different coordinates, is “Take Care and Control” by Death in June, which, however, was released later).

“The Gospel of Inhumanity,” released in '95, stands as the only studio album to date licensed by the American duo (completing the sparse catalog are a handful of singles and EPs and the live “Blot: Sacrifice in Sweden” of '98). Despite the group's inactivity and the difficult availability of their works, this work has managed over time to earn itself among lovers of apocalyptic folk the status of a legendary album, a true cult, especially for the intransigent and extremely misanthropic attitude of the leader Michael Moynihan, who is not coincidentally found alongside Douglas P. and Boyd Rice in the equally revered “Music, Martinis and Misanthropy,” another tome “for fascists only,” albeit for more refined palates.
 
The album presents as a dark monolith in which the eight tracks blend into one another, interspersed with bursts of icy synths, unsettling noises, moments of warlike ecstasy, dark prayers, and esoteric lullabies, in a claustrophobic journey through the obscure meanders of Human Nature. The title track is nothing but a symphonic intro meant to introduce the listener to the apocalyptic and pompous mood of the work, a somewhat plasticky instrumental that wouldn’t be out of place in a low-tier black metal record.

"The Voyage (Canto I)" is a sonata by Bach (arranged by our friends) upon which the recording of the voice of the American poet Ezra Pound, interned in an asylum after being accused of treason for adhering to fascist ideology at the end of World War II (go figure!), has been mounted. A strange thing: the result is something garish and beautiful at the same time. Maybe it’s Bach’s melancholy melody (whose talent is certainly not in doubt), maybe it’s the sorrowful yet damned proud march of this old rambler, but this bizarre mixture extraordinarily conveys a profound sense of estrangement, madness, and loneliness. Alright, you might ask, but what do Blood Axis have to do with it? Nothing, perhaps only for the idea of having put the two things together, fact is the whole is extremely suggestive. We continue, intrigued.
The acidic guitar of "Eternal Soul" bursts in, and it feels like listening to the Death in June of '84 (and sorry if it’s not much!): Moynihan’s deep, monotone voice doesn’t differ much from that of Douglas P., while the drum machine and basic electric guitar riffs manage, although extremely simple, to construct a post-punk of fine craftsmanship, finally shaking the listener from the overwhelming torpor.
"Between Birds Of Prey" is a desolate and dark ambient escape of 8 minutes, where a reverberated orchestration of Wagnerian taste echoes obsessively in the distance, while cold layers of synths and incessant howling of wolves provide the background to Moynihan’s deep voice, reciting a passage from Nietzsche's "Thus Spoke Zarathustra". Another moment of extreme suggestion.
Bach’s organ resurfaces in the subsequent "Herr, Nun Las in Frieden", this time called upon to accompany a monologue by Charles Manson himself, disturbed directly from prison and asked to collaborate on the project (probably asked to leave a message on Moynihan’s voicemail, as the recording quality is poor and it’s possible to hear the repeated sound of a beep in the background!). I must have lost my mind, and yet even this song is damned intriguing: hearing Bach’s beautiful melody, rising in crescendo soon accompanied by sacred choirs, and the distant rambling of America’s most celebrated killer’s voice is almost moving. I probably am out of my mind, but I find this pairing effective (even if I fear the credit goes more to Bach, as he is still Bach!).

And Blood Axis? Easy life, you would say, for people who don't write a note or a line and merely pilfer others’ music and texts. I'll venture an interpretation: Blood Axis are not stupid, their assembling of sounds and suggestions, though debatable in intent, is not random, but responds to a precise calculation. There is a philosophy behind this album, everything here appears coldly calculated and balanced, I do not think I am facing teenagers aiming to shock other teenagers in a crude way. For example, the choice of Pound, Nietzsche, and Manson, albeit not original, responds to a precise criterion, as these three figures, the first in the field of art, the second regarding philosophical thought, the third in the religious realm, embody what is the main theme of the work: the praise of folly, misanthropy, and the self-determination of the individual. Such a choice expresses the group's intention (debatable or not, that’s not the point: I don't want to render value judgments, but to see if the artist is capable of conveying their talent effectively through an appropriate expressive medium and thereby fulfilling their intent) to celebrate what sound a bit like the clichés of Nietzsche’s complex thought: the selfish assertion of the individual; courage as a necessary virtue to defend and carry forward one's beliefs, even at the cost of enduring marginalization and ostracism from the rest of the community; aversion to any type of hypocrisy, falsehood, and compromise; the will to power, ultimately, as the only way to achieve the full realization of oneself; the idea of the Superman as emancipation from all morals and gods (which is complemented by a sui generis anti-Christianity). Unfortunately, all of this often degenerates into a vulgar hero cult (Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great chiefly) and a superficial, macho reading of history, culminating in unacceptable calls for war and childish, laughable elitist attitudes.
But aside from that, what expressive power these musicians possess! All of Blood Axis’s thought finds its greatest expression in the true emotional peak of the album, the martial and pompous "Reign I Forever": the patter of a storm, the blowing of the wind, and a distant rumbling of electric guitar introduce the majestic orchestrations of Prokofiev's famous theme (Egoist! Egoist! Do you remember it?): Moynihan's threatening voice, here in the role of Thor, god of thunder and war, pronounces in the grip of a true delirium of omnipotence the words of the poet Henry Longfellow, shouting and raving against everyone and everything. Thunder and lightning in the background and drum rolls, for a truly thrilling piece, which would even make the Roman salute jump out of Bertinotti, just like in Kubrick’s famed Dr. Strangelove. Joking aside, even here the mixture of sacred and profane, of classical music and industrial contamination is truly successful.

Almost raises the doubt that these Blood Axis do indeed know what they’re doing.

The drop is physiological: followed by a not too exciting but still respectable "Absinthe", a song centered on synthetic sounds leaning toward noise and Moynihan’s rarefied voice, and the titanic "Storm Of Steel", offering in its 10 minutes moments of icy ambient, sad bass arpeggios, and doom metal sequences alternating with triumphant choruses. Epicness cubed!

What can I say, while not exactly the landmark in music history, this album constitutes a unique episode of its kind, one of those few cases where it is really hard to maintain a neutral stance: one either loves it or hates it.

In my opinion, it’s worth approaching due to its undeniable expressive force. It's unnecessary to add that it requires a great deal of open-mindedness and a good willingness to self-inflict pain!

But I don’t want burdens on my conscience: not recommended for anyone!