Killing Joke
Outside The Gate

Even among the most die-hard fans of Scherzo, there are those who could not quite digest this album, and if forced to talk about it, they would dismiss it in two words as "a misstep." The third chapter of the "New Wave Triad," "Outside The Gate" perhaps emerged in an unfortunate period, where the mainstream covers all the good that had emerged years earlier from the underground with its trash. Although I was quite young then, when I think of 1988 and the end of that decade in general, I can only remember Michael Jackson's dances, Madonna's big-bubblegum pop, and Tina Turner's soul screams, while Rocky Balboa faces yet another challenge in the ring with James Brown singing "Living In America". Let's set aside some weak flickers of light still trembling in London and its surroundings, and let's start by saying that, in this album, there is very little that is truly English. However, it would be an exaggeration to say that, for once, Killing Joke surrendered to the spirit of the time, with its plasticity and decadence, because it's not really so. "Outside the Gate", as highlighted by the Warholian cover with Jaz's head as a globe, is the story of a journey, sometimes not always real but dreamlike, with lyrics that escape from that chaos and take refuge in their own world, intimate, didactic, to be confided to people closest to them. And if the music in more than one case winks at the timbres and disposable U.S.A sounds of that period, it's worth noting that the construction of the tracks is always well thought out and never trivial, thanks to plots of good electronics and close encounters with the prog world, even if over time the absence of the newly departed Big drummer Ferguson begins to weigh heavily.

It starts with "America" and it's immediately a take-it-or-leave-it: those who are allergic to blatantly eighties sounds will shudder at hearing those synthetic trumpets that open the track with great pomp. A pity, because "America" is a good track, with deliberately boastful arrangements but behind them a subtle and catchy melody; the important thing is to look behind appearances. On the other hand, do you think Jaz's sickly-sweet declaration of love for America and its consumerism is something to be taken seriously? The tone changes with "My Love Of This Land", a melancholic track that has the journey as its central theme, this time in a more intimate sense; the music is also warm and collected, and particularly appreciable are the moments left to the keyboards at the end of the choruses: certainly one of the best-managed tracks of the entire work. "Stay One Jump Ahead", however, leaves us puzzled, where - horror - a rapper even makes an appearance. It's honestly unclear whether in the end Jaz really enjoyed playing the American pimp driving through Los Angeles with his arm out the window. Fortunately, with "Unto The Ends Of The Earth" we return to familiar tracks, if not to the suggestions of "Brighter Than A Thousand Suns", through six minutes full of dreamlike lyricism. "The Calling" follows that trail, although excessive fragmentation slightly damages the final result: it's actually the first real prog experiment. The attack of "Obsession" takes us back to the roaring years of post-punk, a bit of renewed aggressiveness that never hurts, although the new packaging gives it a more polished appearance. "Tiahuanaco", a postcard from a trip to the Andes, takes us right to those high peaks touched by clouds, in a pleasant and unconventional excursion, as is the piece itself. The account of the long journey is the concluding "Outside The Gate", where the progressive construction finally takes over, and beyond the gates of the dream, the doors of the nightmare open wide: Wrapped in cosmic darkness, amidst toxic fumes and blue flashes, a more Lovecraftian Jaz than ever invokes "immense and mindless entities." Alternating relentless rhythm changes, all-encompassing keyboards, epic guitar digressions, until the final cloud of noise that, fading away, gives way to a piano sonata that concludes the track and with it the entire work.

The verdict will be for posterity. As for me, I confine myself to expressing doubts, more than on the musical quality, on the authenticity of the project concerning the matrix: "Outside The Gate" can really be considered a "Killing Joke" work in its entirety, or is it rather a personal digression, a travel diary not without charm, but only of Coleman? Even Geordie himself seems not to be in the full inspiration, but seems to simply accommodate the best he can the visions of his venture companion. What is certain is that it will be just a short parenthesis, an experiment lasting little more than a season in coexistence with the all-spoken album "The Courtauld Talks". History will show that "Outside The Gate" will mark anything but the group's decline, suffice it to think of what would be produced just two years later. Not to mention how incredibly powerful and communicative our guys sound even today…