Ellie McGee
In the history of a city that birthed metal as a genre, not to mention some very famous metal names, there is one that is perhaps the most acquired of such tastes, even for metalheads. A band whose entire modus operandi can be described – in an oversimplifying sort of way – as “it’s just noise – but in a good way”. From the dirty, smelly, often wretched heart of Birmingham’s heavily industrialised past comes the mighty Godflesh. Purveyor of industrial filth and seer of the common man, otherwise known as Justin Broadrick and Ben Green.
Decay is a well-named album that comes to us from a difficult spot in the Godflesh canon. It is one of two remaining studio albums that will form the last output of the band as an active entity, and the knowledge that the band’s days are numbered by Broadrick’s ill-health permeates Decay like a creeping fog. Contributing to this is the vocals in particular. Recorded before Broadrick’s hernia surgery, he is characteristically blunt about recording these vocals having been a struggle, and it’s a little eerie listening to a man doing what he is so well known for, while in pain, and for almost the very last time. With this much context around an album, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the music itself might well be something of an afterthought; that its existence makes it remarkable enough, it doesn’t need to be anything special on top of it all. You might, and you’d be wrong, because hernia or no, this is still Godflesh.
Their preceding album, Purge, came out of a big pot of songs that the band had assembled, with the idea that the songs in the pot that didn’t belong on Purge would subsequently be released as another, very different album. That latter album turned into Decay, and while the relationship to Purge is clear, Decay is a very different animal. A beast, in fact. Godflesh have been all over the musical map in their time (mostly successfully), but with Decay feels more akin to the bleak brutality of their early years, the absolute pinnacle of which was Streetcleaner. One could almost say back to basics, but there’s absolutely nothing basic about it.
With precious little ceremony, Decay throws us head-first into ‘Master and Slave’, which is full of massive beats, slithering vocals, and what sounds like a horror soundtrack pulsing away in the background. There’s a repetitive, ritualistic edge to it that makes it sound almost like a field recording of some sort of dark rite taking place in a working foundry. This, along with final track ‘Consume Me’, form a pair of bookends to the album, and there’s a clear link between them. The underlying concept is similar, but where ‘Master and Slave’ is repetitive, droning and almost sensual in place, ‘Consume Me’ finds the fury and maelstrom in the same musical roots. It’s a noisy, dirty, overwhelming behemoth that hurtles along at unexpected speed and doesn’t feel a second of its 11.38 length. This is Godflesh at their absolute finest.
Betwixt the bookends, there are four tracks of similar calibre, albeit with very different roots and influences. ‘Living/Ending’ sounds like classic Godflesh meets Roots-era Sepultura, and the result is incredible. ‘Feral Colony’ could so easily be a deep cut from one of Godflesh’s early albums – the vocals in particular are quintessentially Godflesh. And speaking of quintessentially Godflesh, the next two tracks ‘Fear of Man’ and ‘Fodder’ are a neat little fix for anyone who’s going to miss the famous drum machine that’s been a Godflesh hallmark for so long. ‘Fear of Man’ is a menacing, martial statement that never stops moving, and ‘Fodder’ sounds like something unspeakable trapped deep underground and trying its level best to get out. It’s also the heaviest thing on this album by some margin.
Again, this is Godflesh at the top of their game, which makes it all the more galling that the end is already very much in sight. It’s unlikely to be the end of Broadrick and Green making filthy, heavy music – they’ve proved many times over the years that they’re too dedicated to the cause for that – but whatever their output looks like after the next album, it won’t be Godflesh. Which makes it all the more special that they’re still putting out music of this calibre while they can, because this is genuinely up there with their best. It’s hard to imagine anyone would’ve begrudged them a less than stellar album given the circumstances, but instead they’ve chosen to go out with a colossal bang.