Second Sight WARNING — contains spoilers for Scanners, The Brood and also (oddly enough) Nightbreed. My first introduction to the work of David Cronenberg may not have been ideal, but it was probably fitting. It was through that classic promo shot of a dude with his head exploding from Scanners, in the pages of a much-thumbed copy of (I think) Starlog which got breathlessly passed round my classroom […]
Justin Farrington
150 posts
The beauty of the short-form FF format is that there’s little time for exposition, something which can destroy both horror and SF when not done well. These aren’t Cixin Liu short stories, designed to make you think differently about the nature of the universe -- they’re V/H/S short stories, designed to be spooky, nasty, scary or some combination of the three.
What worked perfectly on a sketchy VHS at home suddenly seemed to fall flat on the big screen. It’s all about the suspension of disbelief -- being able to believe something you know intellectually is a fiction is real. Turns out it’s easier to do that when you’re not in a building whose very existence is predicated on showing people things that don’t exist, and when you’re not in the company of hundreds of people eating popcorn.
When it dropped in 1996, Zoon received a very mixed reception. It landed at a weird time, when the goth / industrial rock alliance had been forged but was still a somewhat uneasy one. On first hearing, I and many others were disappointed that what we were getting wasn’t more Fields Of The Nephilim, but what initially sounded like a softer, more introspective Ministry -- and really, what’s the point of a softer, more introspective Ministry?
Towards the end of FF’s reign came Ti West’s The Sacrament, which is definitely at the more awesome end of things, and is one of the few I’d save as an example of what CAN be done with the format. Nobody can accuse West of lacking ambition or creativity [...] and what The Sacrament lacks in budget it more than makes up for in sheer balls.
Not that Tarantula Heart is about forcing Philip Larkin to eat wasps either; but come on, if anyone was going to write an album about forcing Philip Larkin to eat wasps it'd probably be Buzz Osborne, who has lost none of his energy -- or his famous hair -- in the forty years since Melvins first decided to crank up the bass.
Noble's Reynard is as wise, playful and tricksy as ever, but there's a noirish modernity to the proceedings, putting one in mind of TS Eliot or Iain Sinclair, with Reynard as the ultimate flaneur, shifting effortlessly from the green of the countryside to the greys and neons of the city, from the terror of the hunt to the tedium of the office.
London 8 November 2023 Last time I saw Laibach, it was here in this very theatre, and after a set comprising both the entirety of The Sound Of Music (as previously performed in North Korea) and a slew of “greatest hits”, they’d confounded everyone by having Milan Fras come on in a big white cowboy hat (worn ON TOP of the iconic hat with earflaps that makes him […]
Fifty-nine years after their first album and seventeen years after their last self-written one, they're back with new material, crunchy riffs and a whole lot of attitude. As a Hackney resident myself, I gotta love the title, though I do think they missed a trick by calling it Hackney Diamonds instead of Exile On Mare Street.
And of course we've got Andrew Eldritch, and while his voice may not be what it was, the stage presence is still there in fucking spades. I mean, back in their heyday he hugged the mic stand and didn't really do a great deal. These days he's a much more active presence, stalking and prowling the stage like a meth-head feline.
So while I felt a little trepidation in the news that they would be performing with Sinfonia Leipzig, in New Model Army's case I was prepared to make an exception- firstly, the sheer quality of their recent material doesn't suggest that this is a band in any real danger of running out of ideas any time soon, and secondly they've never really given that much of a shit about having to validate what they do do anyone.
And then it's time for Oxbow, and as soon as they kick in I'm kicking myself for missing out on them for so long. Eugene may not actually fight anyone, but he's definitely taken some lessons from The Gospel According to Iggy (and we all know the text) -- he knows in his bones that a good frontman needs to be a bit scary, a lot charismatic and be able to carry a tune. And also -- and this is key -- to get his kit off whenever possible.
...tonight they're playing at the Troxy off the back of their latest criticially-acclaimed release The Beggar. Well, technically off the back of their last two albums, a whole shitload of dates for Leaving Meaning having been cancelled during Covid. Which was something of a double-edged sword for Swans fans, as being unable to tour for one album meant Gira found himself writing material for another one.
Nine years after their triumphant 2014 return with Decline And Fall and A World Lit Only By Fire, Godflesh still feel reinvigorated by their thirteen-year hiatus, and Purge does little to suggest this is going to change any time soon.
There's nothing nice or fun here, but the sheer apocalyptic rage is exhilarating. Remember how dirty Whitehouse felt the first time you heard them and didn't realise how much fun they were having?
UMC / Polydor Greatest hits albums don’t count. Everyone knows that. If someone tells you their favourite album is anyone’s Greatest hits, they’re not a serious person. They’re a “whatever’s on the radio” person. They’re a “this is good at dinner parties” person. EVERYONE knows that. Except when . The Ramones. The Shangri-Las. Queen. When a band’s hits really hit. There aren’t many of them, but ABBA Gold […]
Mute / BMG Suicide are an odd band. Considered legendary influencers today, at the time (at least, according to the excellent No Dogs In Space podcast series on them) both reviled and adored — people hated the music, but loved Alan Vega and Martin Rev, so kept giving them gigs. Some people got it, though, perhaps most notably Bruce Springsteen, whose album Nebraska bears all the bloodstains of […]