The clamouring chunks of battered carcass crash and collide as the desending weight of Godflesh's signature sound, the building blocks of noise that boom and blare as bloated chunks brimming with thudding guitars and rumbliung baselines, thunder in frieght between the fracas of furious dissonance thats wails between the roar and flails. The two pillars that support their iconic sound are tentatively pulled apart, the opening metallic grooves of "Post Self", "Parasite" and "No Body" find the discordant breaks between low end riffage stretched, expanded and pulled apart as the albums songs steadily plunge into harrowing, dark and introverted atmosphers of self psycadelia where guitar noise soundscapes reign supreme as experimentation strikes inspirational gold.
The listening experience of an album comes to life here as track skipping and attempted plucking of "moments" spoil the intensity of letting the forty seven minutes of music unfold into itself. The blackened hands emerge from the shade, grasping, smothering dragging one into the shadows of introspective ambiguity, the light that shines on but does not illuminate. The loud, visceral nature of the record is like a morbid curiosity that swells in your conscious, the fixation on an ugly mechanical beast lost, wounded in your paradise. Suffering, pain and anguish scream in agony as we observe from a distance, the industrial rumblings that motor and drill away as soundscapes of punishment play themselves out.
Broadrick's return to Godflesh in 2014 with A World Lit Only By Fire was rather disappointing. After such a long hiatus, a stripped back, bare bones, riff orientated metal album felt lacking as the most explored and obvious side of Godflesh was resurrected. With Post Self a wild pallet of tone and texture emerges as all sorts of influences and links signify themselves from the purpose of the music. The Industrial drum beats frequently pump and thud like decelerated EDM grooves, the deep textures of sound intensify viscerally like Power Noise, the sonic soundscapes of dissonant guitars echo Post-Punk bands and ravishingly stark synths in the closing tracks pull the likes of astral ambiance to the center of a bleak and harsh experience.
This record has reinvented the excitement once heard on Streetcleaner and Pure, the immediacy and indulgence of the record is sublime, a moody, sonic textural exploration peaked by endless strings of ideas that spark, the wailing, desperate screams on "Post Self", the intertwined noise and depraved screaming that burrows into hell on "Be God". The record is loaded with vocal work that masks itself into the wall of sound, even taking on robotic, electrified distortions on another track. With attentive ears many percussive abuses and glitches meld into the smothering sound... oh and how can one not delight in the glory of the guitars that rediscover themselves track to track in the rich density of effect drenched guitar tones. Its simply a stunning record with an obvious direction that really lets the entire album serve as an unfolding experience to leave one in awe of its apex.
Favorite Tracks: Post Self, Be God, Mortality Sorrow