In the spectrum of heaviness, there’s heavy. And there’s heavy. And there’s Godflesh. Other bands have been faster, louder, angrier, more chaotic, but none has better embodied the empty, numbing, noisy desolation of the industrialized age.
Last summer, the reunited duo of Broadrick and Green released Decline & Fall with an uncharacteristic quietness. Those four songs were Godflesh’s first new original material since 2001’s Hymns, by the end of which Broadrick’s then-future shift into Jesu’s post-metal was foreshadowed. But while Decline’s release was quiet, the EP itself was not – Decline & Fall was vintage Godflesh, through and through: crawling, clanging, and crushing in four short tracks. It was the sound of a brilliant band in both a literal and figurative return, re-emerging from the void and regressing to an earlier point in its career arc, falling somewhere between Streetcleaner’s soul-rending clank and Pure’s more danceable dirges.
Decline was a great re-entry, but even as great as it was, in its best moments, A World Lit Only By Fire is better. Signature Godflesh patterns emerge immediately. In stellar opening track “New Dark Ages” there’s the mechanized unwavering groove of the drum machine, making its return in favor of the live drummers that marked the close of Godflesh’s first run; then there’s GC Green’s clanking and biting bass rumble; and then there’s Broadrick’s stuttering, simplistic riffing and harrowing bellow. The first half of this World is impeccable, all the band’s greatest aspects applied to monstrous tracks like “Deadend” and the droning double-time drive of “Life Giver Life Taker.” The twisted, woozy churn of “Obeyed” is first-rate, matched by the later might krush of “Carrion.”
As it moves to a close, World does begin to wear on me, I admit – but I would stress that that’s more because of the monolithic single-mindedness of Godflesh’s attack, and not because of any significant drop in quality. Godflesh is anything but easy listening, and fifty-seven minutes of soul-breaking heaviness might be a few too many, even for the most serious and soulless. Still, there’s much merit in the back stretch – as mentioned. “Carrion” is great, and “Curse Us All” is another second-half highlight, as is the chugging “Imperator.” But by the time “Towers Of Emptiness” lurches into view, I find myself pretty thoroughly numbed, and the closing fourteen-minute tandem of it and “Forgive Our Fathers” leaves me spent and broken.
But then again, isn’t that what Godflesh is supposed to do?
This year has been full of welcome returns – Sanctuary, At The Gates, Exodus with Zetro… Although (or more accurately, “precisely because”) it doesn’t deviate from Godflesh’s classic noise-industrial abrasion, A World Lit Only By Fire stands as strong as the recent records by any of those. As it fits mostly between Streetcleaner and Pure, with hints of later ‘Flesh, A World Lit Only By Fire is a return to the glorious despair of the past, even as it marks a new beginning for an old favorite.
Lit only by fire, the world is mostly darkness; it’s a heartbreaking and head-hurting place, with flashes of pure orange anger to break through the cold and black. And this is its soundtrack.
