I know I suggested that yesterday's post would probably be my final entry of 2007, but fate intervened. No longer able to tolerate the Galveston beach house's shoddy internet access, my brother-in-law Parts (short for "Car Parts," a nickname the origin of which has been lost in the mists of time) went out and procured us a WiFi router of our very own. We're now firing on all cylinders, so with that....
TITLE: "The Death & Resurrection Show"
ARTIST: Killing Joke
ALBUM: Killing Joke
RELEASE DATE: 2003
I didn't bring my iPod on this two-week trip, rightly assuming that I wouldn't really have the opportunity to listen to any music while minding our two little kids and hobnobbing with the in-laws. Apart from a few fleeting drives to the nearest supermarket, I haven't listened to any music at all -- and from what I can tell, Texas radio stations suck from a giant tube of rancid bean paste (imagine a steady diet of post-Creed faux-grunge and schmaltzy country). The best music I've been able to find on the Lone Star dial was a station this afternoon that played AM hits from the 70's, not unlike K-Billy's "Sounds of the Seventies" in Resevoir Dogs. The most grooving thing I've heard in the last two weeks has been "Dance With Me" by Orleans. Actually, I did hear the signature beep-beep of Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" incongruously wafting out of a redneck bar in downtown Galveston yesterday, but apart from that, I've been musically famished.
But music's always in my head. In this instance, I've had the opening notes of this song by my beloved Killing Joke chugging in my brain for the past nine days. The opening cut -- and originally the title track -- of the `Joke's triumphant 2003 return to form, "The Death & Resurrection Show" found the band with ranks almost complete (with both Youth and Raven handling bass parts). With Big Paul Ferguson still long absent from the drum stool, the band recruited Dave Grohl to bash the skins, and bash them he did. The end results -- produced by grizzled Gang of Four guitarist Andy Gill -- were nothing short of entirely explosive.
This track isn't my favorite on the album (that would be "Blood On Your Hands"), but when I first heard it (courtesty of a leaked MP3), it legitimately blew a new part in my hair and re-affirmed my faith in the band's ferocity and staying power. The following album, 2006's Hosannas From The Basement of Hell, retained the fiery bluster of its predecessor, but not the finesse. To my mind, this track represents the band's last great effort. Here's to it not being their final one.
PLAY IT LOUD, AND POUR ONE OUT FOR PAUL RAVEN!
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