It's been snowing for four days; fortunately, with some breaks. It's been at least a decade since we've seen so much snow.
Gray, dull sky; everything is white, cold, intangible. Even the noises are muffled outside the house; the temperature always close to zero, with the risk of night frosts. It's easy for me to associate this winter atmosphere with the Godflesh EP, with a title that fits what I've just described.
Justin Broadrick recorded it in the same sessions as the album Pure released in 1992.
It's autumn 1991 when Cold World is published.
There is an additional guitar, played by Robert Hampson, leader of the sulfurous Loop.
Only four tracks; actually, it's two plus two remixes of "Nihil."
"Cold World" has a spectral, symphonic start; after a few seconds, thick, traumatic guitars burst in, violative. The voice has a gentle, soft, clean backdrop. Aseptic and disturbing, but with a thread more hope compared to their dreadful industrial beginnings. A preview of what the Jesu, another epochal project of the tireless Justin, would become years later.
The relative calm breaks with "Nihil" where Godflesh remembers they are the masters of Industrial Metal. Drums pounding the sides, dissonant guitars with an outrageous, dark sound; a low, omnipresent bass. Which breaks and dilates. Background noises added; six depressing and desolate minutes. Images of frozen landscapes burst into my mind as I listen; expressionless, eerie chiaroscuros.
The two remixes of the same track are brimming with electronics; mantric repetition of only two words uttered by Justin. Anguish creeps in every second, far beyond the threshold of attention. Hypnotic, cerebral minutes; that paralyze... Immense violators...
I return to shoveling; it's time now. I cannot wait any longer...
Ad Maiora.
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