Killing Joke - Killing Joke

Killing Joke is one of those bands that are made an enigma by their own inconsistency. At times, they are electrifying, a post-punk/proto-industrial hybrid that feels a full decade ahead of their time, playing moody, driven music loaded with political and existential angst. The band’s combination of ‘doom-and-gloom’ metal heaviness with the faster tempos of the burgeoning punk rock scene was notably different from the parallel direction hardcore bands were taking in order to further push the envelope in its stress of mood and atmosphere, as opposed to the catch-all hardcore solution of ‘just play a little faster’. Not only was this combination unique for post-punk, a movement splintering more and more into arty, futurist-aping synth bands, but it was a direct precursor, both spiritually and sonically, for the industrial metal movement of the late 80’s and 90’s. Listening to their self-titled album now with the benefit of almost 30 years of hindsight, Killing Joke practically define industrial as we now recognize it, even though they pre-date our current understanding of it, existing in a time when industrial was an often radically experimental genre lead by the Throbbing Gristles of the world.

And yet, for a band so well ahead of their time, Killing Joke is as much an object of frustration as they are an object of adulation. The group seems to exist so much better in singles and playlist snippets than they do on a full album listen. Sure, a track like “The Wait” is the kind of thing that will force you to take notice, comprising of an infectiously brooding buzz saw guitar line and a rapacious tempo that once again heralds industrial comparisons. The song is noisy like a steel mill and excessively bleak, yet there is no denying its inherent catchiness. And it’s not the only highlight: Opener “Requiem” is EBM at its most anthemic, a dance-y affair where the appeal transcends the no doubt gothic core of Killing Joke’s audience, and “Wardance” is an echoic, strongly-paced synth-metal track where the vocals are spitted out in a guttural, Germanic rasp.


Ultimately, what makes these songs great is their sense of urgency. Not only are they the fastest-paced songs on Killing Joke, but they just carry with them a feeling of intensity. Elsewhere, however, the band lulls about far too much to keep up this feeling. “SO36” is a plodding gothic waltz that never goes anywhere interesting, content just to linger awkwardly and take up space. This is symptomatic of a greater problem at work in Killing Joke. Too often the focus on atmosphere comes at the expense of listenability, and while it is this unique dynamic that makes Killing Joke so fresh and different, you get the sense that they don’t really know what they’re doing with it yet. Which is a shame, considering that just a few years later they’d be moving in the opposite direction, with their sound coming off as overdramatic and cheesy as opposed to overly insular.

So while it is flawed, Killing Joke remains a landmark, both for its influence and its ingenuity. Great at times yet occasionally middling in quality, as an album, it still manages to hit more than it misses. With their debut album, Killing Joke escaped the routine experimentation post-punk was mired in, and instead created something new, something rough, yet something genuine enough to be the launching pad for an entire generation of artists. And while it’s easy to get frustrated by what could have been, it’s just as easy to think of what couldn’t and wouldn’t have been without a jumping off point to begin with.


Killing Joke

Best of 2008: #9. Have a Nice Life - Deathconsciousness

When I first heard this album, it was something of a revelation; I had downloaded “Waiting for Black Metal Records in the Mail” based on internet word of mouth, and there was something about it that gripped me entirely. It was slow, plodding, and ominous, with a leading guitar line like a strobe light at a rave, flickering madly amongst the translucent haze of distortion. It was also very, very good.

Have a Nice Life is the musical project of two men based in Conneticut who make experimental and expansive shoegaze/post-punk music that could be considered dance music for the clinically depressed. Deathconsciousness is the group's first album, a two-disc, 80+ minute trip through the recesses and crevices of the sub-conscious, and all the hope and regret that lies within. From the dive lounge aesthetic of "Bloodhail", to the quiet desperation of the aforementioned "Waiting for Black Metal Records in the Mail", to the wary elation of album closer "Earthmover", there are a number of different moods and feelings brought to mind here, which is just as representative of the album's ambition as of the passion put into it. Some songs show off the plaintive and gloomy side of the band ("The Big Gloom"), with slow, droning, almost abyssal shoegaze mixtures taking presence here, while others opt for a quicker pace, drawing comparisons to the gothic side of 80's post-punk ("Telephony"). At times, Have a Nice Life even wander into industrial territory, as seen in "Deep, Deep", which comes off as Throbbing Gristle as imagined by Joy Division (were that only possible).

At any rate, there's an almost ethereal quality to the layered mixture of guitar and synthetics that feels as if it transcends the immediacy of stimulus/response and burrows its way into your brain with ingenious hooks and a haunting atmosphere. A lot of the songs off Deathconsciousness manage to be emotionally resonant despite their prima facie impenetrability, so that even though the vocals are often blurred beyond recognition, buried under layers of distraction, they still come off as mournful, or confused, or bittersweet. Taking the whole of the many different moods developed throughout the entire album gives you a sort of manic depressive handbook, a portrait of bipolarity in the face of tragedy.

So while I’m not as big on Deathconsciousness as I was when I first heard it - it's overlong (although that could be considered part of its charm), it isn't an album you can just listen to at any time, and some of the songs (off the first disc especially) just lack any sufficient intrigue to them - it’s still an impressive album that’s full of dark, brooding, and occasionally beautiful shoegaze music, accentuated by a lo-fi production quality that conjures up images of spending late nights walking home and the lonely faded incandescent glow that guides each step. This is music that feels like it was made for 3 a.m. introspection, that washes over you and shelters itself within your thoughts. And for that, it's damn well near-perfect.

Best of 2008: #20. Nine Inch Nails - The Slip

Note: Due to the density of albums being presented over the upcoming weeks, I won't be posting links with them. If you want a link for any of the albums shown, leave a comment and I'll see what I can do.

This pick is due almost solely to my latent NIN-fanboyism. Trent Reznor's 7th studio album, and his second of the year after the entirely instrumental Ghosts I-IV, was released for free on his website to no warning or antecedent fanfare, a refreshing gesture, if not quite as an anomalous one as it was presented by the media. On The Slip, Reznor continues his long-standing fascination with electronics, incorporating both the disparate soundscapes of Ghosts and the dance-laden industrial pop of Year Zero into the album, with the result being a fun, if not necessarily ground-breaking release.

Yet despite the fact that most everything Reznor has done here has been done before by him (and better), The Slip still manages to feel like a comprehensive and self-contained album. The dark, eerie electronic vibes that open "999,999" still feel at home next to the jumpy, discordant "Discipline", even though the two songs could easily be placed into separate NIN albums without any trouble (Ghosts and With Teeth, respectively). Never does this feel like an assorted collection of B-sides, despite the fact that it very well could be, considering that Reznor only planned on releasing it as an EP, and that it was written and recorded in a span of two months. As a result, the average song quality isn't quite up to the par for NIN; "Letting You" sounds noisy for the sake of noisiness, and "Corona Radiata" is a seven plus minute instrumental track that never goes anywhere at all. But despite these faults, The Slip still manages to be enjoyable of its own regard. No, it's not the temperamental masterpiece that was The Fragile, but then again, it never tries to be. This is just Reznor having fun recording and giving back to his fans in the process. That the result is even more fun for the listener should be considered a bonus, a symbol that the relationship between artist and fan can still thrive in spite of a recording industry that seems intent on waging war between the two.