Send "Killing Joke " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Dustedmagazine |
 When the original line-up of an innovative post-punk band gets back together for the first time in decades, there tends to be some buzz. Not so much for Killing Joke. There’s no questioning their innovations. The chugga-chugga guitar tones they debuted in 1980 are a foundation of thrash. Mid-’80s singles sketched out a tangled and neurotic rock repeated by any number of filthy pig-poking bands in the following years. But Killing Joke is a confusing enterprise. Right from the start, they integrated synths, and there’s been times the electronics have taken over, pushing them closer to remix-friendly goth (awfully effete for the metalheads). Other times, they’ve toned down to something closer to jangly anthem-rock (anathema to the noise crew). Also, they’ve never gone away. The longest vacancy in their catalog is a six-year stretch, during which leader Jaz Coleman created orchestral arrangements of the Stones, Floyd and Doors and wrote an opera about Jesus marrying Mary Magdalene. Hunh. None of this has smacked of commercialism, as they’ve always been too far out to reach a big audience. Coleman’s paranoia is genuine - he once disappeared to Iceland, to weather out the nuclear holocaust, after seeing the signs fall into place. Killing Joke is odd, but their oddity is so inconsistent, Killing Joke fans have pretty much had the band to themselves. Truth be told, Coleman and Co. have been more consistent in recent years than ever before. Killing Joke (a record from 2003 that my iTunes can’t keep straight from the debut) and 2008’s Hosanna from the Basement of Hell are albums that pass for metal. It’s abstract metal, with the occasional plea against the petroleum industry fit under the growl. But overall, those two records seemed most concerned with sounding evil and kicking butt. This one is different. After the death of long-timer Paul Raven, original bassist Martin Glover drifted back in, making for the first recordings by the original band since the early ‘80s. But Absolute Dissent is not a return to the original sound. It’s more a summation of everything the band’s tried over the last 30 years. If this approach has worked out well for Swans, it’s because M. Gira has a pretty flexible vision. Killing Joke has left broken aesthetics all over the place....full text |
| Popmatters |
| That voice. Jaz Coleman’s voice is what defines a Killing Joke album as a Killing Joke album, a voice that has maintained its power despite being utterly punished for a solid 30 years, and it is in top form throughout Absolute Dissent, the band’s latest album. Coleman is 50 years old now, long past the age when most vocalists start to lose the power that defines them in their youth, and here he is, as ferocious as ever. There is an earnestness to that voice, the idea that the world needs Killing Joke, and that he is doing us a favor by not allowing Killing Joke to fall into the trap that some artists would call “maturity” and others would call “softening”. In fact, as much as any other Killing joke album released since the years started beginning with a “2”, Absolute Dissent recalls the early days of Killing Joke, hearkening back to a time when this band was still finding its footing, still experimenting with genres and ideas, still figuring out a primary conceit for its youthful idealism and drive. The album’s opening track, also its title track, outlines this drive nicely, both as a statement of being and a call to action. While its platitudes may seem obvious (“I oppose poisoned water/I reject poison air”), the point is obvious: There is always a cause to fight for. If you think you’ve won, you’ve been brainwashed. If you conquer one evil, there are millions of other evils to fight. If you think the band—back in its original form on a full-length album for the first time since 1982’s Revelations—has expended all of its energy on the opener, though, you’ve never heard Killing Joke before. Despite the breakneck live-drummed techno-style beats from Paul Ferguson, despite the room-filling guitar sound from Geordie Walker, despite Youth’s rolling and unrelenting bass guitar, “Absolute Dissent” is the sound of Killing Joke just getting started. The following track, “The Great Cull”, is the sound of the band in its stride. What starts out with a relatively simple, straightforward rock ‘n roll sound quickly turns into something more through an intense pre-chorus that finds the instruments in a holding pattern as Coleman bellows “Thin the herd…THIN THE HERD”, hitting notes in his screams that he has no right hitting any more. His voice is breaking the whole time, creaking and cracking under the stress, but never ceding an ounce of its power as he reminds us that “Our great cull is coming down” with all the power of the most apocalyptic of Malthusian prophecy....full text |
| Nowtoronto |
| The idea to reform long-running industrial rock machine Killing Joke was conceived at the funeral of former bassist Paul Raven, who died in 2007. Somehow this is morbidly appropriate for these British goth-punk pioneers; they’ve always been a gloomy lot with songs about apocalyptic doom. Their 14th studio album in an off-and-on 30-year career doesn’t deviate from Jaz Coleman and company’s previous work, and notably includes bassist Martin “Youth” Glover back in the fold. The tracks are long, grinding and relentlessly angry about the state of the world. But instead of “we’re all going to die” songs, we’re getting specifics: environmental contamination (The Great Cull), futuristic fascism (Absolute Dissent), 2012-induced pandemonium (Here Comes The Singularity). ...full text |
| Ew |
| The onetime megastar ended a years-long dry spell this summer with smash single ''Just a Dream,'' and on 5.0 Nelly makes a reasonably convincing case that he can keep the momentum going. He has recovered his pop instincts, slinging singsong rhymes over energetic beats courtesy of 2010’s biggest producers (including Dr. Luke and Jim Jonsin). His lyrics are vacuous as ever, but those hooks sure are sticky...full text |
| Billboard |
| t's been two years since the release of Nelly's last album, "Brass Knuckles," and up until recently, four years since he had a top 10 hit. But on his new effort, "5.0," the rapper proves he still knows what it takes to make a solid, well-rounded album. The Keri Hilson-assisted "Liv Tonight" and "Move That Body" (featuring self-professed club-goers T-Pain and Akon) are party bangers with hand claps and slinky synthesizers. Elsewhere, "Broke" and "1000 Stacks" (the latter featuring the late Notorious B.I.G. on the hook) are boastful hip-hop tracks that find Nelly showcasing his rap skills over drums. And a Nelly album wouldn't be complete without emo tracks like "Gone" (with Kelly Rowland), which the rapper has dubbed part two of "Dilemma," his 2002 hit duet with Rowland. If the number of guest collaborators on "5.0" wasn't enough, Nelly also pulls in pop fans with hit single "Just a Dream." The 36-year-old artist gives fans the stuff they fell in love with 10 years ago on debut "Country Grammar"-and with a new pop-driven sound, he demonstrates he hasn't lost a beat....full text |
| Rollingstone |
| Aiming to capitalize on "Just a Dream," his biggest hit in a half-decade, Missouri's favorite rapper ends his sixth album with another soft-rock-tinged ballad — "Nothing Without Her," about taming a bad girl. On his way there, he essays a few fashionably global-sounding electro-club tracks, including an Auto-Tuned one with T-Pain and Akon, and at least four numbers where he swipes guys' girlfriends. Keri Hilson and Kelly Rowland help him stretch out; Plies, Yo Gotti and T.I. add muscle. But the strut swings most distinctively in "1000 Stacks," where a Biggie sample inspires Nelly to approximate the country grammar he came up on....full text |
Killing Joke lyrics
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