Godflesh
Songs of Love and Hate

THE REVIEW

Gloomy day: low clouds gather on the distant mountain ridge, blocking my view of all those peaks I've reached many times in my "mountaineer" life.

This widespread greyness around me, not just meteorologically speaking, reminded me of the cover of "Songs of Love and Hate". So, it's fitting to delve once more into Justin Broadrick's Godflesh creation, one of the most influential and respected figures in heavy music over the last thirty years.

It's September 1996; chronologically it is the band's fourth album (the fifth if you also count the eponymous debut EP) and there are significant changes. Justin wants to experiment, eager to add more elements to the already explosive and hypnotic sound of the past. He certainly can't abandon Industrial Metal, which remains one of the most prominent features in this album over the eleven songs that fill an hour of listening.

First off, the drum machine is set aside, replaced by a real drummer; thus, Bryan Mantia is recruited, who the following year would join the crazy group known as Primus (yes yes, the ones of my cousin Les!!). A no less explosive but certainly more traditional sound emerges; more human and fluid, to use two terms that hit the mark. It's not an easy work; after all, we're talking about Godflesh and a disproportionately impenetrable sound wall, thanks to the agonizing, massively heavy guitar and bass work.

Another significant addition is the considerable blend of Dub, Hip Hop, Drum and Bass elements; Justin is willing to take risks, wanting to push further into sonic alienation, and the result is haunting. The album should be listened to at an "excessive" volume to get the right feel for the songs it comprises.

It starts with the industrial noises of "Wake": the bass begins to weave its hypnotic, tight-knit patterns. Right after, Justin's voice and guitar come in, and the pain begins. Bryan provides a much more linear, smooth driving force compared to the past: four and a bit more minutes of deadly power. It continues with "Sterile Prophet" and its even more tight-knit rhythms; the trio (although they sound like many more due to the noise) constructs a sound wall of immeasurable proportions, devising a dramatic ending with a riff repeated ad infinitum that knocks me out once again.

They let go for a moment with "Circle of Shit": the pace of the track is much slower but no less effective, with gigantic bass lines and an ultra-distorted guitar. The eight minutes of "Gift From Heaven" provide the right measure of the band's transformation. A tentacled mid-tempo, with Justin's vocals occasionally taking on clean shades, only to fall back into a semi-growl with the word empty repeated endlessly for a suffocating, mantra-like result that destabilizes. The closure of this true auditory ordeal is once again entrusted to the noise of a guitar that finally extinguishes. It's my favorite track, much to the detriment of my clearly declining auditory system.

"Angel Domain" is a merciless onslaught; they unleash their perverse nature by constructing an anguishing wall of sound that harks back to the early nineties.

Top marks and utmost respect for Justin, a great...ALMOST HEAVEN...

Ad Maiora.