Current 93
Swastikas For Goddy

THE REVIEW

"Swastikas for Goddy" has over the years earned the status of a true classic of apocalyptic folk.

And this for various and valid reasons: firstly because it marks a first exploration into the folk universe by David Tibet's creation, which until that moment was dedicated to producing disturbing, esoteric industrial monoliths. Then, because here we can find legendary tracks that have made history for the band and the entire genre. Finally, because it features practically the entire industrial folk scene, both English and otherwise, of those years. Adding luster to the affair is particularly the presence of a certain Mr. Douglas Pearce, a long-time friend of the good Tibet (who in turn had, on more than one occasion, lent a hand to Death in June), called here to lend guitar and voice, significantly influencing the outcome of the operation.

Further enriching the mix are the contributions of John Balance (Coil), the omnipresent Rose McDowall, Ian Read (Fire+Ice and Sol Invictus), Freya Aeswynn (who will also make a few appearances with Fire+Ice of the same Read) and Boyd Rice (NoN). Finally, there's the indispensable Steve Stapleton (Nurse with Wound) for the occasion on harmonium and cello, and the Icelandic artist HOH (from whose collaboration the EP "Crowleymass" and the beautiful "Island" will be born) on harp.

In short, there are good reasons to make this album your own. However, this does not necessarily mean that it's a masterpiece. In my opinion, "Swastikas for Goddy," which is undeniably a crucial step in the artistic evolution of Current 93, is still an unripe fruit, a work at times approximate, where unfortunately the inspiration we find instead in other albums by Current is not always present, which are certainly better conceived and packaged than this.

"Swastikas for Goddy," released in 1987, is Tibet's most anarchic, instinctive, and immediate album, and it presents itself as a bizarre jumble of verses, nursery rhymes, invocations, and often only sketched short episodes. In this, essentially, lie the work's merits and flaws, depending on personal taste: in fact, if here you can sense a spontaneity and freshness that certainly add value, especially in terms of product usability, it's undeniable (especially for those who, like me, love Current 93 more compact and conceptually focused) an excessive discontinuity and lightness of approach that can cause some disappointment.

As for the title, don't ask me what the hell it means. There's surely the influence of Douglas P. (who, consciously or not, has always been a solid point of reference for Tibet). What I can say is that Goddy (or Noddy, if you will) should be, if I'm not mistaken, a toy or puppet from a children's TV show. A puppet that we find in the inner booklet amusingly perched on a cross in a cemetery. Next to it, a very young Tibet wearing an unwatchable white vest studded with cute colored doodles, just to emphasize the childlike and carefree imagery that serves as the work's backdrop.

Opening the dance is "Benediction," a suggestive a cappella invocation by the ever-inspired Ian Read. It is followed by the similar "Blessing," sung by Freya Aeswynn, who we also find in the subsequent "North," a tiny acoustic jewel of just 41 seconds, exuding epicness in every note. With "Black Sun Bloody Moon" Tibet finally makes his entrance, admittedly a bit uncertain and not yet perfectly at ease in the new acoustic dimension. The following "Oh Coal Black Smith" is instead the album's masterpiece, worth purchasing solely for the presence of this track: an urgent folk supported by Pearce's unmistakable guitar and McDowall's famous counterpoint. A beautiful text (drawn from the English folk tradition) in which Tibet's mad and ungainly voice tells the fantastic tales of an unrequited love. Closing the track is Boyd Rice's grim narration, which serves as an ideal link to the threatening tones of "Panzer Rune," which clearly harks back to Death in June atmospheres: creaking armies advancing, martial percussion, a lyrical soprano, Wagnerian backgrounds, and Freya Aeswynn's vocal evolutions, for a track that constitutes the only memory of industrial pasts and certainly feels Pearce's influence.

"Black Flowers Please" is the other great classic of the repertoire, and it has the merit of bringing us back to the hallucinatory and fantastical scenarios more typical of the band: McDowall intones a nursery rhyme, and is soon joined by Tibet's hysterical barking, with results halfway between comedic and unsettling, but surely unique and inconceivable for any other musical entity. "The Final Church," opened by Freya Aeswynn's words, is another folk song that wouldn't look out of place on a Death in June album, if it weren't for Tibet and Balance's voices, which provide plenty of vocal errors. "The Summer of Love" (cover taken from Blue Oyster Cult's repertoire!) is instead a somewhat messy rock, where McDowall also makes damages, giving us a really unconvincing performance. It's a weak moment: with "(Hey Ho) the Goddy (Oh)" we return to the nursery rhymes of "Black Flowers Please," while "Beausoleil" is a noisy, freaky folk piece that, in its almost nine minutes of duration, appears really too long and too little incisive. "Scarlet Woman" and "The Stair Song" flow anonymously as well, brief interludes that add little to what has happened so far, while to revive the fortunes comes Douglas P. in person, who approaches the microphone and sings the suggestive lullaby "Angel" (nothing other than "Hullo Angel" present in "Wall of Sacrifice" by Death in June, released the same year).

A reading by Boyd Rice opens the following "Since Yesterday," cover of Strawberry Witchblade (Rose McDowall's band), another beautiful little gem of relaxed and visionary folk. The comic verses of "Valediction" follow, in which Tibet shows his most foolish side, while the honor of closing the dance goes again to Ian Read, who in "Malediction," another a cappella track, reprises the theme of "Benediction" with which the album opened.

The 17 tracks follow varied and without an apparent logical thread, between successful folk songs and assorted esoteric nonsense. What confers them homogeneity is the madness, the surreal attitude, and the insane irony that inspire, here more than ever, Tibet's art. A work half-baked, which probably didn't even satisfy Tibet himself, who in the future will decide to retake the good material present here, manipulate it, reassemble it, record it again, and release it, with much better results, in a new version: the successful "Crooked Crosses for the Nodding God."

For this reason, it is advisable to approach this second title instead, although of course "Swastikas for Goddy" remains an album definitely not to be disdained, and which necessarily must be part of every worthy Current fan's collection.