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The train ride into L.A. is an adventure unto itself. Riding from Norwalk station in the east to downtown involves multiple stops, with ever-increasing groups of humans crowding into the cars. Hustlers sell phone chargers and Bluetooth speakers and canned drinks to the tired husks that rock in their seats as the trains ferry them along. The last stretch of the journey is made by bus; one of those double-length atrocities attached to itself by an accordion-like tunnel.
Exit on Cloverdale, walk maybe 200 feet to the world-famous El Rey Theatre. The sun-bleached marquee of the venue has a single name emblazoned on it----GODFLESH, just like that, in all capital letters. The fading paint evokes nostalgia.
Food beckons.
There’s no shortage of options nearby. From Indian cuisine to sushi to American fare. Only a few places are familiar. Five Guys it is.
An hour and some change later, waiting at the front of the line. The two-man powerhouse that is Godflesh are living legends of metal. Hailing from the industrial wastelands of Birmingham in the UK, where young people in the 70s and 80s were sentenced to either joining the army or the ranks of the factory workers. Godflesh’s 1988 debut LP was self-titled and unlike anything out there. It combined burgeoning hip-hop beats with EDM and heavy metal, creating a new sound that birthed the sub-genre industrial metal (as the music press called it). Their 1989 follow-up LP, “Streetcleaner”, would redefine metal in a few short years. The experimentation with sound continued with the albums “Pure”, “Selfless”, “Slavestate”, “Us and Them”, and “Songs of Love and Hate”. And they did it all in the 90s. Their swansong LP was supposed to be 2001’s “Hymns”. The band took a hiatus until reforming in 2009 for a show, and then picking up where they left off. In 2014, the EP “Decline and Fall” and the LP “A World Lit Only By Fire” were released. In 2017, the band released “Post Self”, and one thing was certain.
Godflesh was back. And they’re now touring in support of their new LP, “Purge”
Justin K. Broadrick (guitars, programming, vocals) and Benjamin G. C. Green (bass guitar) walk outside after their sound check. They appear tired but focused. Professional musicians on tour of the US.
Green is amicable, smiling when he’s thanked for decades of music. He seems to enjoy the brief exchange, appreciative that he was not asked for a photo. Broadrick ran into old buddies and was engaged, smiling and catching up. Feeling like a stalker after some time, refuge was found back in line. Missed a chance to talk to Broadrick. He seemed like a nice fella, though.
Inside, the foyer bar becomes the first stop for many. Further in, the merch table is the other popular stop. Only 2 designs are left over from the band’s journey across the American mainland. The first act takes the stage.
s280f. An interesting name. The artist is shrouded in costume, faceless. A prop head made of a tangled mass of rope adorns a staff cloaked by a serape, a single glowing blue eye stares out. The crowd gathers on the floor.
Alternating between hellish industrial soundscapes and soaring orchestral sections that are nothing short of angelic, s280f defies all expectation. Performance art tethered to sonic brutality and ecstasy. And then the artist moves offstage and into the crowd.
Moving among the throng, s280f weaves a spell that engages the bewildered. The Cyclopean head stares at the confused. Draws them in. Hooked. It’s a gorgeous moment.
s280f brings the house to worshipful knees. Then a brilliant and seamless transition between acts occurs.
As the outro to the final s280f track crescendos, Prison Religionemerges from behind their gear. Composed of a DJ/vocalist duo, the pair build alongside s280f, then drop into their own music.
Blending industrial with hip-hop and dubstep and trap. Each member flexes their flow over thunderous beats. Harsh 808s pound the salt out of the crowd. Heads bob. Improvised beats and rehearsed pieces combine into a sonic wall that pulsates with life.
These guys are good.
Prison Religion wraps to well-deserved applause. Curtains are drawn as the crew sets the stage for the main act. The house lights come on to a low setting.
A short intermission and the house lights go dark once more. Guitar feedback wails from behind the drawn curtains. A good thirty seconds or so pass and the curtains are drawn. Godfleshdraw the crowd forward with ambient noise, then open with “Nero”, the first track from their new LP.
Broadrick and Green fall into perfect sync with each other as the backing drum track crushes the P.A. system, especially the low-end. (The band started out with a drum machine in the late 80s, added a live drummer--Ted Parsons—in the late 90s, but have returned to their original formation.) Broadrick’s guitar alternates between screams and howls while Green’s bass growls, whipping the crowd into a slow-moving frenzy.
There’s almost no break in the music as the band tears into the 2nd track from their new LP, “Land Lord”. A throwback to the 90s, this tune beats the crowd into submission with its groove. Broadrick’s 8-string hammers at the ears and Green’s bass pounds into the chest.
It is glorious to behold.
The reach of Godflesh’s set is amazing. A song from each release is featured, with a particular emphasis on “Purge” and “Streetcleaner”. They explore their catalog and drag the audience with them through time, revisiting every moment of a sonic attack that spans more than three decades. True to form, Broadrick does not speak to the crowd between songs. No witty banter, no angry tirades, just raw emotion funneled through music.
At the close of their encore, Broadrick forces feedback from his amp and cranks it to an almost deafening level, then cuts it off and exits the stage. The crowd responds with a giddy roar of approval. Godflesh channeled all the trauma and love and pain of their lives into their music, and the crowd gave it back in that moment.
Walking into the night, yours truly felt the catharsis to his core. This record of that memory is all I have to give. I hope it’s enough.