Godflesh - A Rough Guide

I have to confess to a real love for bands with names that tell you exactly what you are going to hear before the needle even drops to the wax. And it could never be said that anyone would listen to a band called Godflesh without expecting to have their aural canal battered mercilessly.

Formed in 1988 by Justin Broadrick and G.C. Green, the band already had an astonishing musical pedigree given that it was two teenagers bellowing about urban disillusionment. Broadrick had played for both grindcore pioneers Napalm Death (co-writing the first and superior half of their highly influential debut 'Scum') and noise rock obscuronauts Head Of David.

They wasted no time in outlining a manifesto of decay, intensity and brutal collapse. Unlike many bands, for Godflesh influences are to be woven together into an unrecognisable whole rather than worn on the sleeve. Thus from a heady concoction of '80s crusty punk, raw piercing industrial, spaced-out dub and experimental hip-hop comes the roaring wounded beast that was their eponymous debut EP. It's difficult to overstate just how different this was to anything that had come before it. The closest touchstone at the time was Ministry's work in transitioning from synthpop to something far more aggressive and evil, but beyond some superficial similarities in fusing guitars and electronics the comparison runs dry. At the time, there was simply nothing out there remotely like Godflesh.

Godflesh – 'Godflesh' – 1988 - “Weak Flesh”

The following year Broadrick and Green dropped 'Streetcleaner' on an unsuspecting audience of musical extremophiles. Still widely lauded as their best work (which I would disagree with), it takes the formula set down by their debut EP and fucks with it harshly. Forming a cogent whole that physically seethes with insignificant fury, to listen to this album is to invoke the absolute nadir of Thatcherite urban life. It is broken glass, shattered concrete and random violence written large under a banner of godless horror. Mechanised self-flagellating impotent apathy. Music to detonate council estates to.

Godflesh – 'Streetcleaner' – 1989 - “Christbait Rising”

A flurry of EPs followed through 1991, with Godflesh doing their subconscious level best to alienate the metal-oriented fanbase that had begun to build around them. This audience was an unintended consequence of releasing debut material so unrelentlessly punishing, and while it is remarkable now that more experimental material would piss off Godflesh listeners, the early '90s were a much more provincial time for metal. The Slavestate EP, and in particular the title track, took ahold of the spreading techno contagion and grasped it lovingly around the neck, finding yet another chemical infusion to inject into an already hæmorrhaging organ. This would not be the first time that Broadrick and Green would take a more popular electronic genre and crumple it into their own weeping shapes.

Godflesh – 'Slavestate' – 1991 - “Slavestate”

'Slateman' was released the same year, a single that was later fused with the 'Slavestate' EP for collectors and latecomers. It offers another fascinating early insight into a later direction, this time with a melodic underpinning that makes the buzzsaw guitars and Green's deep sea bass detonations into a thing of soaring beauty rather than a discomfiting trauma.

Godflesh – 'Slateman' – 1991 - “Slateman”

It's astonishing even now to consider how many boundaries were left crushed and broken in the wake of Godflesh's advance, before they had even inflicted a second full-length LP on the planet. 'Pure' arrived in 1992 and delivered 50% monstrous rolling metal set to beats that were in turn half early-'90s techno slowed down to heartbeat pace and half puncture wound-rhythm hip-hop. The other 50% of the record satisfied their more experimental urges with extended feedback and noise pieces that are at points exquisitely masochistic trials to endure. By spinning out the length and focus on some tracks, the duo had started to build the sense of churning hypnosis that would be so fundamental to their next album. Looking back on 'Pure' now it is easy to make some criticisms. The production isn't fantastic and both types of song have a tendency to bleed into one another – this does the job of painting a single portrait of the needle-swamped alleyway of British culture nicely, but also chokes the delivery before it can scream its name.

Godflesh – 'Pure' – 1992 ' - “Spite”

'Selfless' was voided into the world in 1994, and was (in my mind) the absolute perfected fusion of everything that had come before it. Brutal, hallucinogenic echoes in the silence. A more natural sound that nevertheless machine-tooled every single percussive concussion and tortured riff to unbelievable precision. Astonishingly produced and released partly by major label Columbia records, this would be Godflesh's only flirtation with mainstream distribution. In every way, 'Selfless' is a mad creature split between several worlds and all the better for it. Unlike the previous releases that meshed organic with mechanical in a blood-and-hydraulic fluid wreckage, this album sequences them together on a genetic level. It would also be where the real seeds of their influence on the world of post-metal would start to be overtly sown.

Godflesh – 'Selfless' – 1994 - “Xnoybis”

1996's 'Songs Of Love And Hate' continued the more organic feel of the previous record to a logical conclusion – replacing many of the beats with a drummer in the form of Brian Mantia (though some hip-hop influence is still clearly on display in the beats that remain), stripping back the sound to a more coherent song-oriented approach and turning every track into a controlled collapse. It's an extremely energetic and powerful record, maintaining the unmistakable bellowing control of Godflesh while dancing around the edge of more mainstream metal. It is, without a doubt, their most easily listenable record. For a crushingly heavy industrial metal album named for a Leonard Cohen LP, that's a hell of a trick. A remix collection of more of less the entire album followed - the imaginatively titled 'Love And Hate In Dub' - and is a darkly entrancing curiosity rather than a necessary investment.

Godflesh – 'Songs Of Love And Hate' – 1996 - “Wake”

Three years later Godflesh decide to fuck with everyone one more time with pretty much the opposite polar extreme of their sound. Electronics are pushed to the fore, guitars are stripped back to an underpinning and everything is suffused with an uncomfortable existential dread for 1999's “Us And Them”. It's sourceless drum n' bass-slathered body horror for a select and elite few, and it is the only time Godflesh have been beaten to the punch. Cubanate's 'Interference' emerged a year prior to this, and while the two are obviously distinct and vital records they carry the same internal agony to the bitter end. Thankfully, by this point the band had so inured their fanbase to a constantly shifting musical landscape they were happy to be pulled violently in whatever direction the duo desired. It is truly the most beautiful thing in existence when an audience matures enough to obviate the term 'sellout'.

Godflesh – 'Us And Them' – 1999 - “I, Me, Mine”

Of note for a decent overview of their albums to this point, as well as a collection of rarities, is the anthology 'In All Languages'. While summarising Godflesh's discography is an exercise in futility, it makes the best stab it is probably possible to make and is therefore a decent starting point. It also contains this slightly obscure gem from a 1989 compilation.

Godflesh – 'In All Languages' – 2001 - “Love Is A Dog From Hell”

Godflesh's final LP to date arrived in 2001, and 'Hymns' is an oddly appropriate coda. More stripped back and direct than any previous work, a live drummer in Ted Parsons is again brought on board to relegate electronic beats to the occasional background piece. Finally perhaps finding a balanced point between the melodic and the furious, it is a unique record that reduces what has come before without sacrificing integrity, quality or the inner emotional turmoil that enabled it all. It is the final whistling noises in the ears of Icarus three seconds before impact.

Godflesh – 'Hymns' – 2001 - “Regal”

The band imploded in 2002, with G.C. Green's departure and Broadrick's ensuing nervous breakdown. Throughout the timeline of Godflesh, Broadrick had released hordes of side project material and continues to do so, as well as being the central force behind the masterful post-metal/shoegaze act Jesu. In 2012 the duo reunited for some live shows and potential new recordings. Beat the pack of inevitable awful hipster twats and get into Godflesh before they emerge. You will not regret it.

Listen To A Whole Load Of Godflesh On Spotify HERE.

Essential Records: Streetcleaner, Selfless, Us And Them, Hymns

ATCB's Top 100 Albums Of The Bastard's Decade: 30-21 

Presenting the eighth installment in this ongoing, self-obsessed series. A Spotify playlist featuring all available recommended tracks is being built daily alongside the list, and can be found by clicking here.

30. Hatebreed – ‘The Rise Of Brutality’ (2003)

This album is the aural equivalent of doing 500 press-ups in a row. On a concrete surface, strewn with broken glass. The testosterone given off by 10 seconds of exposure is enough to drive you to wear wifebeater vests and cargo shorts for the rest of your life. Just one song will expand your neck muscles – specifically, those used to gurn and bellow – by up to 300%. It’s hardcore thrown so hard into metal that it might as well just stop pretending and admit it’s the latter. There’s far more Slayer in here than Minor Threat by a factor of infinity plus one. This is better than the rest of Hatebreed’s 21^st century output, since their other releases might only cause you to punch strangers and not your loved ones. It’s all a matter of perspective, but I have a perverse fondness for any album that turns me into a whirlwind of raging fists. I mean that literally. The only reason you haven’t heard of it happening is because there are never any surviving witnesses.

Recommended Tracks: “Facing What Consumes You”, “Doomsayer”, “This Is Now”

29. Will Haven – ‘Carpe Diem’ (2001)

‘Carpe Diem’ is probably the most easy to listen to of all Will Haven albums. But that’s not really saying much for this bunch of experimental sludge metal noise type people. Their songs give off a sense that they’re being played backwards, which is probably both an acquired taste and a specific form of madness unique to me. Sharing common elements with fellow Sacramento bands Deftones and Far, they are firmly heavier than both while utilising the same atmospheric swamp and odd rhythmic structures. This album saw them sprinkle small bits of electronic noise over the top of their songs and strip back their material to a slightly more accessible level - all without sacrificing their oil-soaked gravel guitars, tightened rubber band bass and Grady Avenell’s ridiculously distinctive howl.

Recommended Tracks: “Carpe Diem”, “Dressed In Night Clothes”, “Moving To Montana”

28. The Decemberists – ‘The Crane Wife’ (2006)

I like including albums like this on my list, for no other reason than that people might say to each other “He likes THEM? That I did not expect.” They would then turn to each other, kiss and establish a lifelong sexual relationship. Because that’s the kind of thing my writing drives people to. The Decemberists have a sound that could only really be called indie folk rock, and sing immensely twee songs penned about folk tales and oddments. The stories they conjure up seem permanently stuck in that timeless age usually occupied only by fairy stories, and there is an innocence to them despite their frequent use of death, violence and lost love. ‘The Crane Wife’ is their most coherent album, centred around two song cycles and lacking some of the self-indulgence that comes with the territory of their musical style. It’s love-it-or-hate-it stuff composed entirely of straightforward instrumentation and structure, and I find something really appealing about that – the closest touchstone I can think of is obscure-indie darlings Neutral Milk Hotel. But you probably shouldn’t judge it as falling on either side of your taste barrier until you have listened to it while reclining on a small wooden boat, drifting slowly along a Victorian riverbank on a slowly dying summer’s day. Get back to me on how that goes for you.

Recommended Tracks: “The Crane Wife 3”, “Summersong”, “Sons & Daughters”

27. ohGr – ‘SunnyPsyOp’ (2003)

Nivek Ogre’s solo project is industrial only in the loosest sense of the word, with speedy beats and squelching synths covering both the bass and the melody. It’s not quite electroclash or synthpop either, but some unholy union of all three. Bizarrely, ‘SunnyPsyOp’ at times also sounds a little like mainstream r n’b. Oh, I give up. It’s just bloody weird but accessible and poppy at the same time. You don’t care anyway. You’re just sat there, smiling and nodding like some fucking bedazzled dog. What it comes down to is that this might be the only album to which the terms ‘industrial’ and ‘shake your booty’ can both be applied. It’s intriguing and quirky and mental but also friendly, like a scab-covered hobo inviting you back to his corrugated iron shack to drink tea and browse his collection of deformed animal drawings. If that doesn’t intrigue you, you might be visiting the wrong site.

Recommended Tracks: “HiLO”, “JaKO”, “EnDai”

26. Jimmy Eat World – ‘Bleed American’ (2001)

Sunny and glowing emo rock from the masters of the genre, ‘Bleed American’ marked both a renewed pop-punk angle to the band’s sound and the subsequent explosion of their popularity into the alternative mainstream. It’s not a popularity they have managed to quite hold on to, and this album in all likelihood remains their commercial high point. That’s not to say their consistently solid later releases from the decade aren’t worthy of them – indeed, it was more or less a coin toss whether to include this or their latest LP ‘Invented’ which manages to consolidate their later, more rock-oriented sound with that of their 1999 masterpiece ‘Clarity’. But ‘Bleed American’ (or ‘Jimmy Eat World’, if you bought the bizarrely renamed post-9/11 re-release) clinches it, since almost every single track on it is a simple but elegant lesson in how to construct a catchy, touching pop song. If this album is to be believed, the only thing Americans bleed is sunshine and bittersweet glory.

Recommended Tracks: “Bleed American”, “A Praise Chorus”, “Sweetness”

25. Neurosis – ‘A Sun That Never Sets’ (2001)

I use a lot of adjectives in my writing. You may have noticed this. A lot of them are rough hyperbole spun out beyond reasonable lengths in order to kickstart the correct image or atmosphere. But when I refer to this band, and more specifically this album, as ‘primal’ – I mean exactly that. Towering slabs of stone carved out with guitars and drums, intricately indented with shamanic vocals that wail from the depths of some forgotten age. It’s music shaped by old earth, fresh blood and burnt offerings that grows organically into a vast pillar of flame, dwarfing the listener against a backdrop of pulsating red stars. This is tribal metal in every sense of the words, noise created by tapping into some internal Neolithic wanderer before being rudely translated via modern instrumentation. Closing track “Stones From The Sky” chants out a neverending melodic crush that is brought to an abrupt close by piercing shrieks of machine noise, an effect roughly approximate to the culture shock inherent in ending this album to return to the 21^st century.

Recommended Tracks: “A Sun That Never Sets”, “Watchfire”, “Stones From The Sky”

24. Coheed And Cambria – ‘The Second Stage Turbine Blade’ (2002)

I spout off a lot about peculiar genre classifications and how they link in to people’s perceptions of bands. One of my lovely little bugbears concerns Coheed And Cambria and whatever piss-soiled music hack decided to describe them as ‘emo’. Whatever interpretation of the term you pick up on, its only real link to this band is that it is constructed of the same basic modern Latin alphabet letters as the band’s name. Coheed And Cambria are a bizarre hybrid of prog rock, pop-punk and modern alt.rock, all jammed in together with Claudio Sanchez’s at-times gender defying vocals. They are a prog band in more than just a sonic sense as well, with all their albums linked together as part of a huge semi-incomprehensible sci-fi story. ‘The Second Stage Turbine Blade’ is their debut release, and was picked over a couple of other excellent albums this decade purely because it sounds more raw and fuzzy. And we like raw and fuzzy here at ATCB. From an initial gobsmacking blast in the first four tracks there is some meandering loss in quality, but the album as a whole has hiked its way further up the list just by simply not sounding like anything else out there. That’s something else we like at ATCB.

Recommended Tracks: “Time Consumer”, “Devil In Jersey City”, “Everything Evil”

23. Skinny Puppy – ‘The Greater Wrong Of The Right’ (2004)

The fact that many Skinny Puppy tracks are actually coherent pieces of music feels almost like an afterthought – contrasting pieces of industrial noise and fractured vocals somehow synchronising into an accidental whole. With ‘The Greater Wrong Of The Right’ this chaotic element was downplayed somewhat, allowing the listener a glimpse into what a world would be like if they chose to become a more straightforward industrial act with metal bits thrown in. The answer? What it lacks in innovative soundscapes it more than makes up for with powerful and precise songcraft. Previous records such as ‘Rabies’ and ‘The Process’ dabbled with this, but for the first time they sounded as though they could play an alt. mainstream festival slot and not walk off to a sea of bemused faces. There are still random sounds aplenty from cEvin Key, and Nivek Ogre’s voice remains a heavily processed random lyric generator. But if you were to try to convert an average unbeliever to the world of Skinny Puppy, this LP is definitely your best chance of doing so without destroying their mind like some Lovecraftian tentacle-faced nasty.

Recommended Tracks: “I’mmortal”, “Goneja”, “DaddyuWarbash”

22. Invasion – ‘The Master Alchemist’ (2009)

I have raved about these guys on the august pages of this site before, but here’s a chance to do it again. They’re a threepiece stoner metal act who pitch concise blasts of groove-ridden riffage in your face, topped with almost Motown-esque female vocals and monolithic drums. Oh, and their lyrics are about sorcerors and dragons and stuff. Which is always great value. ‘The Master Alchemist’ is their debut release, and manages to deliver a refreshing pure rock roundhouse kick from a hefty army boot inscribed with secret arcane sigils. I have a serious thing for excellent albums that clock in around the twenty minute mark – this does so, and the only reason there aren’t more on the list is because hardly anyone seems to be able to write short, punchy tracks in the 21^st century. Invasion certainly can, and for that reason and a multitude of others they deserve your attention.

Recommended Tracks: “Conjure War”, “Spells Of Deception”, “Evil Forest”

21. Godflesh – ‘Hymns’ (2001)

Godflesh were an act who didn’t believe in stagnating or sitting on their laurels as God-Emperors of wreckingball-heavy industrial metal, and ‘Hymns’ displays this with ease. It’s a stripped-down battlefield of stabbing guitars, nauseatingly churning bass and drums that can switch between precisely clipped and primordially tribal at the blink of an eye. All this is overseen by Justin Broadrick’s voice, sometimes falling like a wounded angel deep in the mix and sometimes bellowing with barely restrained violence over the top of it. Musically it carries elements of previous releases – the metal hypnosis of ‘Songs Of Love And Hate’, the melodic underpinning of ‘Selfless’ – but as with all of their LPs it is definitely a unique shuddering beast. One of the most interesting aspects to ‘Hymns’ (interesting for Broadrick nerds, at least) is how it is an overt stepping stone towards his later work as Jesu. Some of the songs could flawlessly slot into a Jesu album, and indeed the closing track carries that name. It is therefore ironic that said closing track is as punishing, brutal and rending a song as Godflesh ever produced. It’s a leaden battering ram that crushes your limbs and leaves you unable to do anything but writhe in anticipation for the next blow. “You’re fucked. You’ve lost.” spits Broadrick at the end, over and over. Since this was the last thing released by Godflesh before disbanding, he was 100% correct.

Recommended Tracks: “Defeated”, “Regal”, “Jesu”