Pelican - Australasia

I was saddened at the loss of Godflesh, but long before their dissolution Godflesh had ceased to be what interested me in them in the first place. I found them in 1992, eager to seek out something newer and heavier than anything else I could find - industrial sufficed only so much before it felt like the bands were simply making ugly noises. I wanted ugly noises that dripped with meaning. I found that in Godflesh's epic Pure, 80 minutes of the ugliest, most pummelling metal I'd ever heard up to that point. Bass, guitar, and a drum machine was all it took, along with some of the densest distortion I've ever heard. Vocals were an afterthought - guitarist Justin Broadrick's hoarse utterings were barely noticeable over the barrier of repetitive, distorted chords. What Godflesh excelled at was creating a landscape of heaviness. No solos, no real choruses. Just wave after wave of mutilated sound, and it was beautiful. That they managed to follow up Pure with an album that was somehow even heavier was a fact that still astonishes me - in fact, Selfless still blows my mind to this day.

Unfortunately, after Selfless, Godflesh seemed to lose its way. They hired a live drummer in the form of Brian "Brain" Mantia, a great drummer, no doubt, but adding a human element removed some of the appeal. The cold, calculated pounding the drum machine offered was replaced by Brain's heavy touch, but it added a fluidity that undermined the core of Godflesh. It just didn't feel right. As often happens with bands, a major change like this forced them to turn a corner permanently, and they never recorded anything that approached the epic proportions of their early work. When they broke up in 2002, it was a sad event, but more because simply no one made metal like this.

Article Author: Tom Johnson

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