Back when this blog was still young and arguably fresh, I used to post compilations of song suggestions tailored to Halloween. I’m not entirely sure why I stopped doing that, although it’s probably because I’ve become largely disillusioned with what Halloween has become (i.e. a cheap-gore-fixated New Year’s Eve for idiots dressed up like “sexy zombies.”) Maybe it was always thus and I just didn’t recognize it? Who knows?
That all said, given my childish preoccupation with all things macabre, I still thrill to things that are genuinely dark and unnerving (although I do like a bit of nuance and finesse … I’m still of the opinion that that which is unseen and unexplained is a thousand times scarier than gratuitous gore). With this in mind, now that we are in the thick of the Halloween season (although don’t tell The Strand that), I’ve recently acquired an album that seems absolutely tailor-made to the holiday’s intended sensibility.
Backwards by Coil — the boundary-immolating, experimental electronic duo of Jhonn Balance and Peter “Sleazy” Christopherson — was initially slated for a release in the mid-90’s via Trent Reznor’s Nothing label, but fates conspired to prevent the general public from hearing it. Altered and arguably diluted versions of its music have been released over the ensuing decades, but it wasn’t until this year that a label dubbed Cold Spring released a lovingly preserved and sonically pristine edition of the original Backwards in its entirety as a salve to Coil’s patient and loyal fanbase.
Cold Spring takes pains to point out that Backwards was originally put to tape in the wake of 1991’s Love’s Secret Domain and prior to 1999’s very-appropriately-titled Musik to Play in the Dark Vol. 1, and is perceived as the crucial, developmental link between those two works. Those dates, however, are entirely incidental. This is music predominantly untethered to any single moment in time, and there are precious little — if any — points of reference to the actual era in which it was recorded. These sounds could just as easily have been recorded this week, twenty years ago or conceivably twenty years from now.
A cherished-if-fatigued anecdote about Coil is that, back in the 80’s, famed film director Clive Barker commissioned them to score what would become his grisly horror classic, “Hellraiser,” but that in the final stages of the film’s production, their music was rejected and stripped from the proceedings for being — wait for it — ”too scary”. As cartoony as that sounds, it is very hard to listen to the breadth of Coil’s sprawling catalog and not take away the palpable feeling that something else is genuinely going on within this music. Coil isn’t something you just throw on during a cocktail party or while doing your ironing. Their music could pointedly affect the energy of the room.
As is evident in the graphs above, it’s significantly difficult to write about Coil without lapsing into a sort of ominous hyperbole. But, back to Backwards, as ghostly and deliberately unsettling as this album is, it might be further chilling — if a bit sensationalist — to remember that both of the men responsible for this music were dead before their time (Balance died from a fall in 2004, Christopherson died in his sleep in 2010). Without purposely sounding too maudlin, it’s hard to digest this music without those facts further affecting the atmosphere.
As Halloweeny as I might seem like I’m making Backwards out to be, however, you might want to think twice about using it to greet any doe-eyed trick-or-treaters, not least for the emphatic cries of "FUCK ME FROM BEHIND" that howl through the album’s lurching title track. Not just musically adventurous, Coil were never ones to inhibit their considerable libidinous urges. They made art that was meant exclusively for adults, preferably open-minded ones at ease with the myriad facets of human sexuality.
But Coil’s sexual proclivities were never what made them scary. I mean, sure — they were super horndogs, but certainly no more so than, say, Van Halen or the Red Hot Chili Peppers. They just weren’t hetero. No, the thematic elements of Coil’s music that meshed so disquietingly with the oft-ponderous and eerie essence of their sound were their intimate ruminations on death and emotional disorder, all delivered with an elusive vibe of surreal, lysergic menace. (To be fair, their early fixation with … well, poo … circa their first album, 1984’s fittingly titled Scatology — remains indelibly repulsive).
By the time Backwards was recorded, Christopherson and Balance had mercifully moved beyond that preoccupation. That, however, doesn’t mean that Backwards is any less harrowing. Even as I was walking about this afternoon in the bright, autumnal sun, I was touched by this album’s slimy malaise through my earbuds, prompting me to skip through "Paint Me as a Dead Soul,” as I found it almost overwhelmingly unsettling. And this track is hardly alone in that capacity.
In any case, for those who aren’t afraid of the dark, …seek ye Backwards.
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