The snarling animal in Killing Joke that was reborn on their self-titled 2003 release is alive and well on the thunderous Hosannas from the Basement of Hell, an insider album that's pointed directly at the fans. Coming off a triumphant tour celebrating the band's 25th anniversary -- captured brilliantly on the XXV Gathering! DVD -- the Joke sound absolutely free and grand here, allowing songs to stretch well past the five-minute mark and just begging the detractors to have at it by sitting firm on their classic delivery. Like their great early albums, Hosannas is a sonic sledgehammer, nowhere near as clean as their 2003 release thanks to the band's insistence that old equipment and primitive speakers be used for the recording and mixing. At first, it's a dense and jarring experience as strings and synths get lost in the surging mix, and while the album sorts itself out after repeat listens, the provided lyric sheet is the only way to catch all the twists in Jaz Coleman's inspired words. He's given the album a narrative arc by beginning with two numbers referencing the band/fan relationship. "This Tribal Antidote" portrays Killing Joke concerts as "A Ritual/A festival of dissent" where "Kindred spirits exchange and listen/Share in common a different value system." The title track goes even further, putting the listener in the die-hard fan's day to day experience with the protagonist looking to set friends on fire until he remembers "Killing Joke waits for me/Then we play/Go Psycho." From here on out, it's Coleman and company dragging the hardcore along as villages are pillaged and the sacred is destroyed, right up to the closing "Gratitude," which gradually trudges things back to reality. Supporting this grand journey is Geordie Walker's stately guitar, as forceful as ever and dominating on the otherworldly "Majestic." Newcomers may find this all too much to take in, while old fans can cherish the band's most personal album as another victory. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
The live set on XXV Gathering!, recorded in early 2005 at London's Shepherd's Bush Empire, celebrates Killing Joke's 25th anniversary and is duly ferocious. As expected, Jaz Coleman's banter from the stage isn't the customary "Are you ready to rock?" fare. His first words are, in fact, "We have so much work to do tonight," just prior to screaming, "Wardance!," which sets out an eruption of said song. The set list is heavy on the 1979-1985 releases, and the band fires away as an unrelenting, tight machine, bludgeoning the ears with a precise form of primal energy that delivers a quasi-greatest hits that includes "Pssyche," "Love Like Blood," "Requiem," "Are Your Receiving?," and "Sun Goes Down." Fans will appreciate the DVD of the performance even more, but this is a perfectly adequate portable companion. Alarmingly enough, the disc often sounds even more fierce and desperate than Ha!, recorded 23 years prior. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
Killing Joke's best album in 11 years is a major surprise. While the other two LPs since their comeback (after a brief breakup in 1988) refocused the group on heavy guitars and contained several great songs, this time they put it all together. For good measure, they throw out the minor, pesky metal-isms that lurked throughout 1994's Pandemonium. Instead, Democracy returns them to the assault and battery of their seminal, self-titled 1980 debut (and, like that classic, Killing Joke effectively play with tribal rhythms here, on the incessant "Intellect" and the hypnotic "Aeon"), only filtered through the bigger, larger, exalted guitar reverberation of their last truly incredible LP, 1985's Nighttime. Credit returned original bassist Youth (now a noted producer) for the dark, immense, bonfire sound of this monster. The choruses of "Democracy" and "Prozac People" storm, led by Jaz Coleman's maniacal, red-throated doomsday voice, and Geordie's apocalyptic chords. "Pilgrimage" duck-steps brilliantly with real swing. And best of all, the closing "Another Bloody Election" is a brutal, barbarous, bloodthirsty shellacking, the hardest, most vicious, ghastly onslaught they've ever perpetrated (and that's saying plenty), as Coleman fumes over the futility of the pathetic political process with an acute mixture of unchecked, furious ire and helplessness. It's just the final hammer blow of primal urgency from an 18-year-old band that has completely refound their singular thunder (the kind Nirvana filched for "Come as You Are," as per the settled lawsuit) on this, their tenth album. ~ Jack Rabid, The Big Takeover, All Music Guide
Though barely recorded four years after their first live release, Ha, BBC in Concert was not released until 1994, as a tie-in with the reunion album Pandemonium. Nonetheless, the recording hasn't aged a bit. Though the band was slicker, depending more on synthesizers and less on full-throttle guitar crunch, the music remains as aggressive and intense as ever. Part of that is due to Jaz Coleman, whose seething venom is unabated, even on some of the more polished tracks. Guitarist Geordie remains the lynchpin of Killing Joke's sound, though, churning out guitar lines that are simultaneously intricate and intense. The bulk of the material is drawn from Killing Joke's commercial breakthrough mid-'80s albums Night Time and Brighter Than a Thousand Suns, selecting most of the standout tracks from those records (though curiously, not including their most famous song, "Eighties") as well as a smattering of early classics. The recording was originally aired on the BBC, so the sound quality is pristine. For both fans and newcomers, this excellent album is worth hearing. ~ Victor W. Valdivia, All Music Guide
After the band's lengthiest hiatus since it was founded, Killing Joke returned in 1994 with a new/old lineup and an interesting enough new album. Raven, the group's bassist since the Night Time days, was replaced by original bassist Youth, who produced the album and released it on his label. Compared to the newfound intensity of Extremities, Pandemonium partially steps away from the neo-industrial/thrash of that effort for a more varied, often quite surprising experience. With no one drummer replacing Atkins, the threesome works with a number of performers, Coleman in particular bringing in some of the Egyptian musicians whom he has worked with on a variety of projects, including his collaborative work with Anne Dudley. Noted percussionist Hossam Ramzy takes a key role, replacing the frenetic fire of Ferguson's work with a subtler, more textured approach, while Aboud Abdel's violin further gives Pandemonium a haunting edge, aiming to some extent at recreating the epic, mysterious stomp of Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" for a newer day. Elsewhere, the straight-ahead rampage of "Exorcism" and "Whiteout" show that Killing Joke hasn't forgotten the power of sheer intensity, and if Ferguson's sheer power and inventiveness is missed the most here, the results are still a thrilling, fierce listen. The core Coleman/Geordie partnership remains strong, the latter at points holding back on his more scalpel-sharp approach for a thicker, overdubbed flow, sometimes -- as on "Jana" -- finding a friendly, open style that revisits the radio-friendly AOR days of the band without actually sucking. In turn, Coleman slides between his declamatory persona and the closer, more controlled style of later efforts; the combination -- as on the striking, massive wallop of "Communion" -- can be incredible, the contrast between the verses and searing choruses proving captivating. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
The gaggingly awful monstrosity of Outside the Gate behind them, Jaz Coleman and Geordie came to their senses, brought in ex-Public Image Ltd drum fiend Martin Atkins as a new partner for Paul Raven, and fired up a new version of Killing Joke that finally recaptured the sprawling spirit of the earliest days. Wisely, Extremities, Dirt & Various Repressed Emotions didn't simply try and replicate the debut or Revelations -- the group collectively allows for the later abilities of the members and incorporates that into the performances. Consider Coleman's singing on the opening rampage "Money Is Not Our God" -- while the song itself rips along with the sheer fire of 1980 intact, Geordie in particular just going off, Coleman saves his now-recovered shout for the title phrase and the occasional verse. His later, smoother style, meanwhile, takes the fore elsewhere, a surprising but effective balance of control and chaos. Geordie, meanwhile, if anything sounds better than ever, his ear for brutally effective, memorable and tightly wound guitar riffs combined with just enough technical flash to define what a guitar hero should really sound like. Songs like "Inside the Termite Mound" and "North of the Border" keep the slightly more accessible, calmer side of late-'80s Killing Joke at least partially present, but never succumb to total polish. If there's a definite flaw to Extremities, it's that too much of the album sounds like a response to the band's descendents -- most clearly Ministry, with whom Atkins had already worked -- than its own effort. At other parts, as on "Struggle" and sections of "The Beautiful Dead," the group creates generic speed/thrash instead of its own stronger variations. It's not the worst of sins, though -- certainly not in comparison with Killing Joke's immediate past -- and the end result confirms the core Coleman/Geordie partnership as the strong beast it is. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
This is a CD reissue of a bizarre 1989 double LP. Jaz Coleman delivers a monologue and is eventually backed by constant percussion and sporadic guitar. His talk on demonology and numerology suggests that only the present day magician (sometimes masquerading as musician, I infer) can hope to survive the imminent arrival of the "elder gods." This lecture would have gone over big if delivered to the esteemed staff of Miskatonic University. Is Coleman serious? I am now afraid to listen to my old Killing Joke records except from the protection of a thaumaturgic circle. ~ Thomas Schulte, All Music Guide
Outside the Gate was not originally meant to be a Killing Joke album, at least not by the band. It was a solo album by lead singer Jaz Coleman -- with KJ guitarist Geordie Walker helping out -- until the record label got the band's name onto the cover. Here Coleman tries to become a bona fide singer rather than just a vocalist, and turns his usual growl and shout into a croon, acting as if he's Freddie Mercury and David Bowie mashed together. This album may be of interest to some completists. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
Marking the full return from the band's out-of-nowhere hiatus in 1982, Night Time, following after a couple of test-the-waters EPs, finds the reconstituted Killing Joke, with Paul Raven in on bass but otherwise unchanged, caught between their earlier aggression and a calmer, more immediately accessible approach. This turned out to be the band's Achilles heel in the end, with later albums in the '80s evidence that the group had turned into an unbelievably boring, generic modern rock band. At this point, however, the tension between the two sides had a perfect balance, and as a result Night Time is arguably the quartet's freshest album since its debut, with a warm, anthemic quality now supplementing the blasting, driving approach that made the band's name, as songs like "Kings and Queens" demonstrate. Geordie Walker pulls off some jaw-dropping solos amid his fierce riffs -- check out his turns on the title track -- while Paul Ferguson mixes and matches electronic beats with his own very well (perhaps a little less intensely than before, but not by much). Jaz Coleman's experimentation with keyboards -- chopped-up vocal samples, calmer and sweet lead melodies -- is paralleled by his own singing, now mostly free of the treatments and echoes familiar from earlier days. He's got a great singing voice as it stands, and it's a treat to hear him let it flow forth without forcing it. "Eighties" turned out to be the retrospectively most well-known song, due to a surprising and not always remembered example of Killing Joke's influence -- Nirvana, of all groups, thoroughly cloned the watery guitar line at the heart of the track for "Come as You Are." "Love Like Blood" was the breakthrough single in the U.K., although -- and for good reason -- it managed the bizarre trick of slotting alongside Duran Duran for mainstream radio airplay while still sounding like nobody other than Killing Joke. A pity the group then spent some years doing pallid clones of the song. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
The end of the '80s wreaked havoc on all too many bands that started off strongly and, while Killing Joke hadn't quite reached its nadir (that would happen with the appalling Outside the Gate), Brighter Than a Thousand Suns was a definite transformation from the days of "The Wait" and "Complications." The unexpected success of Night Time and new commercial pressures clearly came to bear -- Chris Kimsey's production, effective on that earlier album, here combined with Julian Mendelsohn's mixing to result in too often blanded-out album rock throwaways, perfect for blasting on highways and little else. Still, the band hadn't changed any from Night Time, and even that lineup was three-quarters of the original incarnation of the group. The emphasis still focused clearly on volume and strong, full-bodied playing -- Geordie Walker, Paul Ferguson, and Paul Raven don't sound like they're holding back at all even if their individual performances are less on the edge. Jaz Coleman's newfound way around inspiring singing, meanwhile, pays off in dividends; though it's impossible to square the results here with his earlier hectoring and cutting rage, the warm, sweet passion that he brings to bear often transforms an OK track into a great one. "Adorations," the killer opening track and easily the album standout, is a perfect example of how this era of the group could make it all connect, Coleman's beautiful performance on the chorus and the overall ensemble effort making it the best anthem neither U2 nor Simple Minds ever wrote. But the stiff, mechanical beats on the immediately following "Sanity" -- a ridiculous substitution of Ferguson's undisputed abilities -- sets the tone for the remainder of Brighter Than a Thousand Suns, an effort ultimately dialed in rather than performed. The sound-alike quality of nearly all the songs -- especially ironic considering the accomplished genre-hopping on the earliest records -- renders Killing Joke its own unfortunate parody in the end. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide