Christopher Owens delves into an 1981album he feels is the best of all time. 



Let's get this out of the way early on.

This is the greatest album ever made.

Now, let me explain why.

Released in June 1981, Killing Joke's second album outdoes their s/t debut in terms of song writing, intensity and brilliance but also outdoes everything else released at that time. And 1981 was a brilliant year for music: Solid Gold, Flowers of Romance, Movement, Prayers on Fire, Deceit, Red Mecca, Mission of Dead Souls, Animal Now, Alles Ist Gut, Leather Bristle Studs and Acne, Slates and Insect & Individual Silenced all came out in 1981. All stone cold classics.

So to outdo all these is some feat.

But then Killing Joke always had confidence. They knew there was a power and mysticism that they could tap into to further their vision, as evident by this quote:

This band would not just be a pleasure principle, it would have a social function, rather than something you put on when you get home from work. I guarantee that if you do that with a Killing Joke record, you'll lose your job. We knew we were different - we were articulate and intelligent, yet we were portrayed as thugs, which admittedly there was an element of truth in.

The "intelligentsia masquerading as yobs or vice versa" debate blind sighted many at the time, leading them to ignore the rich musical and literary culture around the band. Evolving from the fractured UK punk scene at the end of the 70's, early Killing Joke blended disco and dub into their apocalyptic sound. Hence, fans of The Ruts and Chic could be found in the crowds of their early gigs, alongside the mohican brigade. Their first Peel Session captures this period perfectly.



By 1981, the sound had evolved into what one Village Voice critic described as "an ugly, overwhelming, heavy metal-disco fusion that might be the first real advance in HM since The Stooges..." Killing Joke were not impressed by this comment, and quite rightly so. Aside from it being too simplistic (and wrong), the use of the word 'disco' would have been anathema to certain Americans still high from Disco Demolition Night and would have led to the wrong impression of the band as Saturday Night Fever cast offs.

Which couldn't be any further removed from reality.


And reality was becoming a word open to subjective opinion in Killing Joke by this period.

Their interest in astrology and the occult arguably hit it's peak in 1981, with drummer Paul Ferguson commenting that:

There is a force behind each individual and the idea is to find these forces or powers and try to get them to work together. It's more than just star signs; it's a sub-conscious thing. There are four main elements; earth, water, air and fire, and when we started we tried to find a person from each element, to theoretically produce a more balanced and stronger whole.

Bear in mind that a seven pointed star used to be chalked on the floor when Killing Joke played live, followed by Dave 'The Wizard', who would breathe fire. You can see that Ferguson wasn't joking.

As well as this, bassist Youth was suffering from the after-effects of a bad LSD trip. Youth went mad, burning a collection of crisp five pound notes inside his bank …

I remember trying to get a bank loan and the bank manager said that I didn't know the value of money. I pulled out a £5 note, burned it and threw it on his desk. I said, 'Don't lecture me, that's what money is, it's just paper'. He threw me out... 

… trying to break into the Freemasons headquarters and ended up in Chelsea police station wearing a kimono and swimming trunks. Unsurprisingly, he was placed in a mental home, leading to a tour being postponed. He later said:

Somebody slipped me the acid. I wouldn't have taken it myself if I'd known what would happen - but the mental home was great. I went crazy, sure, but then I began to see the funny side of life. I made a lot of friends in there, though it was really weird because I was in the ward for all the flashers. It was quite amusing.


A simple but sinister drum beat opens 'The Fall of Because' before guitarist Geordie Walker comes in with a riff that sounds like the gates of hell opening up. Paul Ferguson and Youth play a tight, but inventive rhythm based on dub reggae and tribal, Celtic beats. Vocalist Jaz Coleman sings a set of lyrics influenced by noted British occultist Alistair Crowley, who once wrote that “He shall fall down into a pit called Because, and there he shall perish with the dogs of reason.”

It's not a flashy opener. Rather it's one that grabs your attention gradually, due to all four musicians battling it out for supremacy in the mix. When it does fully grab you, you find yourself feeling like you're descending into hell.

'Tension' does what it says, and does it through a chugging, staccato guitar riff that feels like a baseball bat landing on your head. The bizarre imagery in the lyrics ("Sitting in my armchair thinking again and again and again/Going round in a circle I can't get out") can suggest manys a thing: 9 to 5 conformity, LSD paranoia, mental disintegration. The free flowing imagery, combined with the stable music, is almost psychedelic in it's outcome, especially the guitar line during the chorus.

'Unspeakable' begins with a moody keyboard line, then Ferguson ups the ante by plummeting his drum kit with controlled violence. Youth's basswork during the chorus adds an extra layer of discomfort. Once again, the lyrics depict a world where "Facts and figures turn anti-clockwise/Many signposts leading to the same place", clearly predating 'alternative facts' and consumer driven lifestyle.

There's a real sense of paranoid and dread running through this song. The tribal patters on display during the drumming conjure up images of tribes people preparing themselves to hunt for food, while Geordie's chords make me envisage council estates on fire.

A staccato keyboard line holds 'Butcher' together, with Coleman's distorted vocals spewing venom about the rape of the land for oil and wealth. The most 'industrial' track on the album, the mechanised feel nicely contrasts with the environmental message.

 
Coleman then uses 'Follow The Leaders' to lambast the then British Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, as well as the lemmings who'll follow anyone with a stronger personality than them. The only single from the album, it's groove is inspired by Chic, but is much more violent and chaotic sounding than anything that Nile Rogers and Bernard Edwards ever put their name to. Listen to the middle eight, when it pares down to just the bass and the synth line. The dub influence is keenly felt, but the effect is akin to being stamped on in an alleyway at 2 in the morning.

Nearly eight minutes long, the krautrock leanings evident on 'Madness' capture the daily grind of modern life with precision. By utilising Coleman, Youth and Ferguson as vocalists for this one, the listener is barraged with contrasting vocals. One line sums up the bleak viewpoint of the entire album: "If this is today/Well what the fuck's tomorrow." Adding to the insanity, Walker's guitar is suitably metallic, but minimal.

'Who Told You How' is a short electro number with tribal percussion and sweeping guitar. A sound collage with a simple question, it's not a million miles away from what the likes of Cabaret Voltaire were doing at the time and acts as both a respite from the grind of 'Madness' and a change of pace.

The last song on the LP, 'Exit' may sound like a more traditional and conventionally 'punky' number, giving some the impression of ending the record on a somewhat optimistic note. But a closer inspection of the lyrics suggest otherwise: "Noise turns darker the moments pass/But the drums keep thundering in familiar way." Ending with a fade out of the drums furthers the point.


Cover wise, it may not be as iconic as the 'vandalised' Don McCullin photo that adorns the first LP, but it's another visually arresting piece of work from Mike Coles that encapsulates the paranoia and dread that pours out of 'What's This For...!'

A solitary figure, dressed in white, (whose gender is unidentified) is stuck in a Lynchian style setting where a traditional English street is populated by clowns are observing their prey. It could be argued that it's a comment on conformity, the seedy secrets that lie in suburbia, the struggle between good and evil, nuclear war paranoia, finding strength from within and even a joke on seaside postcards.

Whatever the true meaning, it's use of muted colours, exquisite detail and ambiguity mixed with evocative imagery make it a potent comment in it's own right.

Coming out to mixed reviews (Sounds infamously gave it five stars musically, but one star on moral ground), the praise for 'What's This For...!' has grown dramatically over the years.

At the time of release, UK unemployment was over 2 million, Nazi skinheads regularly clashed with anti fascists, rioting had broken out in South London and the country was still reeling from the Yorkshire Ripper murders. In the North of Ireland, republicans died on hunger strike (fully encouraged by their 'leaders' for political gain) and riots in nationalist areas were daily occurrences. And, while the album was being recorded, rioting broke out in Brixton (not far from the band's squat in Ladbroke Grove).

Harsh times like this require an album to soundtrack this chaos, and 'What's This For...!' perfectly captures this period by evoking imagery of subversion, suspicion and mayhem through the riffs and lyrics. But these are still harsh times, and it still sounds as potent nearly forty years on.

As Jaz Coleman said in 1990: "Killing Joke always have an important role to play in times of world tension" and this is still the case today.

The greatest album of all time. No question.







⏩  Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland.

From The Vaults - Killing Joke 'What's This For...!'


Christopher Owens delves into an 1981album he feels is the best of all time. 



Let's get this out of the way early on.

This is the greatest album ever made.

Now, let me explain why.

Released in June 1981, Killing Joke's second album outdoes their s/t debut in terms of song writing, intensity and brilliance but also outdoes everything else released at that time. And 1981 was a brilliant year for music: Solid Gold, Flowers of Romance, Movement, Prayers on Fire, Deceit, Red Mecca, Mission of Dead Souls, Animal Now, Alles Ist Gut, Leather Bristle Studs and Acne, Slates and Insect & Individual Silenced all came out in 1981. All stone cold classics.

So to outdo all these is some feat.

But then Killing Joke always had confidence. They knew there was a power and mysticism that they could tap into to further their vision, as evident by this quote:

This band would not just be a pleasure principle, it would have a social function, rather than something you put on when you get home from work. I guarantee that if you do that with a Killing Joke record, you'll lose your job. We knew we were different - we were articulate and intelligent, yet we were portrayed as thugs, which admittedly there was an element of truth in.

The "intelligentsia masquerading as yobs or vice versa" debate blind sighted many at the time, leading them to ignore the rich musical and literary culture around the band. Evolving from the fractured UK punk scene at the end of the 70's, early Killing Joke blended disco and dub into their apocalyptic sound. Hence, fans of The Ruts and Chic could be found in the crowds of their early gigs, alongside the mohican brigade. Their first Peel Session captures this period perfectly.



By 1981, the sound had evolved into what one Village Voice critic described as "an ugly, overwhelming, heavy metal-disco fusion that might be the first real advance in HM since The Stooges..." Killing Joke were not impressed by this comment, and quite rightly so. Aside from it being too simplistic (and wrong), the use of the word 'disco' would have been anathema to certain Americans still high from Disco Demolition Night and would have led to the wrong impression of the band as Saturday Night Fever cast offs.

Which couldn't be any further removed from reality.


And reality was becoming a word open to subjective opinion in Killing Joke by this period.

Their interest in astrology and the occult arguably hit it's peak in 1981, with drummer Paul Ferguson commenting that:

There is a force behind each individual and the idea is to find these forces or powers and try to get them to work together. It's more than just star signs; it's a sub-conscious thing. There are four main elements; earth, water, air and fire, and when we started we tried to find a person from each element, to theoretically produce a more balanced and stronger whole.

Bear in mind that a seven pointed star used to be chalked on the floor when Killing Joke played live, followed by Dave 'The Wizard', who would breathe fire. You can see that Ferguson wasn't joking.

As well as this, bassist Youth was suffering from the after-effects of a bad LSD trip. Youth went mad, burning a collection of crisp five pound notes inside his bank …

I remember trying to get a bank loan and the bank manager said that I didn't know the value of money. I pulled out a £5 note, burned it and threw it on his desk. I said, 'Don't lecture me, that's what money is, it's just paper'. He threw me out... 

… trying to break into the Freemasons headquarters and ended up in Chelsea police station wearing a kimono and swimming trunks. Unsurprisingly, he was placed in a mental home, leading to a tour being postponed. He later said:

Somebody slipped me the acid. I wouldn't have taken it myself if I'd known what would happen - but the mental home was great. I went crazy, sure, but then I began to see the funny side of life. I made a lot of friends in there, though it was really weird because I was in the ward for all the flashers. It was quite amusing.


A simple but sinister drum beat opens 'The Fall of Because' before guitarist Geordie Walker comes in with a riff that sounds like the gates of hell opening up. Paul Ferguson and Youth play a tight, but inventive rhythm based on dub reggae and tribal, Celtic beats. Vocalist Jaz Coleman sings a set of lyrics influenced by noted British occultist Alistair Crowley, who once wrote that “He shall fall down into a pit called Because, and there he shall perish with the dogs of reason.”

It's not a flashy opener. Rather it's one that grabs your attention gradually, due to all four musicians battling it out for supremacy in the mix. When it does fully grab you, you find yourself feeling like you're descending into hell.

'Tension' does what it says, and does it through a chugging, staccato guitar riff that feels like a baseball bat landing on your head. The bizarre imagery in the lyrics ("Sitting in my armchair thinking again and again and again/Going round in a circle I can't get out") can suggest manys a thing: 9 to 5 conformity, LSD paranoia, mental disintegration. The free flowing imagery, combined with the stable music, is almost psychedelic in it's outcome, especially the guitar line during the chorus.

'Unspeakable' begins with a moody keyboard line, then Ferguson ups the ante by plummeting his drum kit with controlled violence. Youth's basswork during the chorus adds an extra layer of discomfort. Once again, the lyrics depict a world where "Facts and figures turn anti-clockwise/Many signposts leading to the same place", clearly predating 'alternative facts' and consumer driven lifestyle.

There's a real sense of paranoid and dread running through this song. The tribal patters on display during the drumming conjure up images of tribes people preparing themselves to hunt for food, while Geordie's chords make me envisage council estates on fire.

A staccato keyboard line holds 'Butcher' together, with Coleman's distorted vocals spewing venom about the rape of the land for oil and wealth. The most 'industrial' track on the album, the mechanised feel nicely contrasts with the environmental message.

 
Coleman then uses 'Follow The Leaders' to lambast the then British Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, as well as the lemmings who'll follow anyone with a stronger personality than them. The only single from the album, it's groove is inspired by Chic, but is much more violent and chaotic sounding than anything that Nile Rogers and Bernard Edwards ever put their name to. Listen to the middle eight, when it pares down to just the bass and the synth line. The dub influence is keenly felt, but the effect is akin to being stamped on in an alleyway at 2 in the morning.

Nearly eight minutes long, the krautrock leanings evident on 'Madness' capture the daily grind of modern life with precision. By utilising Coleman, Youth and Ferguson as vocalists for this one, the listener is barraged with contrasting vocals. One line sums up the bleak viewpoint of the entire album: "If this is today/Well what the fuck's tomorrow." Adding to the insanity, Walker's guitar is suitably metallic, but minimal.

'Who Told You How' is a short electro number with tribal percussion and sweeping guitar. A sound collage with a simple question, it's not a million miles away from what the likes of Cabaret Voltaire were doing at the time and acts as both a respite from the grind of 'Madness' and a change of pace.

The last song on the LP, 'Exit' may sound like a more traditional and conventionally 'punky' number, giving some the impression of ending the record on a somewhat optimistic note. But a closer inspection of the lyrics suggest otherwise: "Noise turns darker the moments pass/But the drums keep thundering in familiar way." Ending with a fade out of the drums furthers the point.


Cover wise, it may not be as iconic as the 'vandalised' Don McCullin photo that adorns the first LP, but it's another visually arresting piece of work from Mike Coles that encapsulates the paranoia and dread that pours out of 'What's This For...!'

A solitary figure, dressed in white, (whose gender is unidentified) is stuck in a Lynchian style setting where a traditional English street is populated by clowns are observing their prey. It could be argued that it's a comment on conformity, the seedy secrets that lie in suburbia, the struggle between good and evil, nuclear war paranoia, finding strength from within and even a joke on seaside postcards.

Whatever the true meaning, it's use of muted colours, exquisite detail and ambiguity mixed with evocative imagery make it a potent comment in it's own right.

Coming out to mixed reviews (Sounds infamously gave it five stars musically, but one star on moral ground), the praise for 'What's This For...!' has grown dramatically over the years.

At the time of release, UK unemployment was over 2 million, Nazi skinheads regularly clashed with anti fascists, rioting had broken out in South London and the country was still reeling from the Yorkshire Ripper murders. In the North of Ireland, republicans died on hunger strike (fully encouraged by their 'leaders' for political gain) and riots in nationalist areas were daily occurrences. And, while the album was being recorded, rioting broke out in Brixton (not far from the band's squat in Ladbroke Grove).

Harsh times like this require an album to soundtrack this chaos, and 'What's This For...!' perfectly captures this period by evoking imagery of subversion, suspicion and mayhem through the riffs and lyrics. But these are still harsh times, and it still sounds as potent nearly forty years on.

As Jaz Coleman said in 1990: "Killing Joke always have an important role to play in times of world tension" and this is still the case today.

The greatest album of all time. No question.







⏩  Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland.

8 comments:

  1. Another great album of 1981 was JuJu by Siouxsie and the Banshees as well as Computer World by Kraftwerk. The last truly great albums by each of those bands. I think the line up change forced on the Banshees in late 79 had opened up their perspective and Geordie was on their initial wish list of desired guitarists (along with Bruce Gilbert of Wire) suggesting they were paying close attention to KJ. 'What's This For...!' passed me by at the time. It was the only Killing Joke album I never owned from the run between their debut and Night Time. The dub version of ‘Follow the Leaders’ was years ahead of it’s time. 'The Fall of Because' has always been a peak of their live set when played.

    London is a hugeg city and Brixton is a fair distance from Ladbroke Grove, though at the time they were two areas of London that were demographically similar - both had large West Indian populations and what was left of hippy squatting from the late 60s/early 70s. Ladbroke Grove became gentrified in the late 80s but it took Brixton nearly three decades more for the same to happen there.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Christopher - you have a truly great understanding of the music scene. I always enjoy the knowledge you bring to the blog and it is an honour for TPQ to have you contributing so steadily

    ReplyDelete
  3. PaulJPMN,

    would you believe that I'm not a fan of 'Computer World'? There are some great songs on there, but it's never flowed for me in the way that 'Radioactivity' or 'Electric Cafe.' Same with 'Juju.' Aside from 'The Scream', the Banshees (to me) were always a singles band. Would make sense that they'd have been interested in Geordie but, considering the dynamic of the Banshees, I doubt it would have lasted any longer than one rehearsal!

    Thanks for clearing that up. I read one report from the time that Ladbroke Grove was swamped with police during the riot and put two and two together.

    AM,

    thank you very much for putting up with me!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Computer World is definitely lighter/poppier than other Kraftwerk albums. Radioactivity is one of the most influential albums of all time re what came after punk. Bowie asked them to be support on the Station To Station tour when he heard it in on release in 75. They rightly declined figuring Bowie’s fame would annihilate them at that stage. Electric Cafe came out 3 years too late and for the first time ever Kraftwerk sounded behind the times to me. Banshees had a great run of singles (as did Killing Joke) but I will take the first four SATB albums and John McGeoch is the best guitarist of that whole era. One rehearsal is all Marco Pirroni could take when they asked him to consider filling in on guitar to complete the tour that John Mckay and Kenny Morris walked out on!

    Ladbroke Grove is where the Notting Hill Carnival riot occurred in 1976. Even by that time Notting Hill was very desirable (Bryan Ferry lived there) and the carnival route was further north around less desirable Ladbroke Grove and Westbourne Grove despite it’s name.

    I too am very glad you are Pensive Quill’s resident culture, arts and music correspondent and always enjoy reading your pieces and hearing of bands and books I knew nothing about.

    ReplyDelete
  5. PS final word! Sons and Fascination/Sister Feelings Call - Simple Minds double would be another to add to the 1981 list. Always loved the title ‘Solid Gold’ by GOF. Don’t know the album though.

    ReplyDelete
  6. PaulJPMN,

    Good call on 'Sons and Fascination/Sister Feelings Call' (although the previous year's 'Empires & Dance' is the definitive SM LP for me). Their last truly great records.

    'Electric Cafe' did emerge a little too late, but I love the harder sound as well as 'The Telephone Call' which is, to me, a better pop song than 'The Model.' Also, the lack of a running theme seemed to free up the record and allow a little humour in there ('Sex Object')! Wolfgang Flur's book on his time in Kraftwerk is utterly tedious, apart from the revelation that they got groupies while on tour (although that may be wish fulfilment fantasy on his part).

    I can believe that with Marco Pirroni. It was an astute choice to go for him, with his amazing work in Rema Rema (and prior to being Adam Ant's right hand man), but I imagine his personality wouldn't have pleased Sioux and Severin, who seemed to prefer people they could control. McGeough was certainly a brilliant player (Magazine, when on form, were astonishing) and it's a shame he had to retrain as a nurse in the 90's before dying.

    Thanks for the compliment. As I once said to AM, it's nice to know I'm not pissing in the wind!

    ReplyDelete
  7. 'Empires & Dance' is the sound of 1980 (along with Killing Joke’s debut). I think it is a great example of the artist as a young man soaking up the world around him wherever he is and getting creative inspiration from history to create something completely new. Jim Kerr spoke at the time of its release of travelling through Europe on tour for the first time when promoting ‘Real To Real Cacophony’ and the sense of discovery he had with the history of the continent and what was happening at the time. John Leckie created a huge sound for the record with his production. John Peel loved 'Empires & Dance' when it came out. It resonates very strongly for me as I was went to Europe for the first time in the summer of 1980 and there were still Badder Meinhof wanted posters up in West Germany and the Bologna bombing happened at the time too. I stood outside Kraftwerk’s studio in Dusseldorf for no particular reason other than being the sad person I was in 1980! The one and only time I saw Kraftwerk live the audience was 90% male and I can only imagine some of them them queueing up after the show for advice on synthesiser algorithms from the band.

    Marco Pirroni had played guitar for the Banshees at their 100 Club Punk Festival debut in Sept 76 (with Sid Vicious on drums). Severin said regardless of Marco’s abilities he just didn’t have the right look anyway. Rema Rema supported the Banshees in 1979 so a strong connection there regardless. McGeoch’s lack of musical activity after he left PIL was a shocking waste of an immense talent. He was signing on the dole at one point in the 90s.

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  8. That's a really cool tale about being in West Germany around that time. As someone who was 5 in 1991, it's hard for me to truly imagine just what Berlin was like around that time (especially nowadays when globalisation has turned everywhere into a giant shopping centre). I seem to recall Eno talking about how there would be billboards with posters that said "eat potatoes" around the city!

    Your Kraftwerk 'fantasy' reminds me of a slightly pissed off Steve Ignorant remarking that he would spend Crass gigs winking at girls, only to be cornered by some mac wearing member of the SWP demanding clarification on Crass's stance on certain issues!

    ReplyDelete