I can’t deal with Pylon. Where’s the intensity!? Where’s the fucking fury!? Killing Joke were a hoot; a bunch of old codgers more pissed off over… whatever—than any musician half their ages. Killing Joke used to be a pummeling, muscular, fuck-em-up band, but Jaz Coleman and co. have been softening up ever since Hosannas From the Basements of Hell. To be fair, you can only fight aging for so long, but even MXIII gifted us some of their heavier moments, and that was less than four years ago.

And most importantly: where are the hooks? Industrial is a genre built around repetition, but it relies on a well-refined drill to pierce the skull. Only “War of Freedom” contains something approaching a great riff, while the rest clone the previous songbook poorly. The production is horrible: a murky smoothness where everything is mixed at a near-equal level, establishing no base emotional level to punctuate out any anger. It doesn’t approach the unique swirling, psychedelic, shoegaze-esque texture of Democracy either, which is their album most similar to this one. Jaz Coleman mostly uses his clean voice which isn’t nearly as electrifying as his growl. Pass over Pylon. It’s one of their limpest albums. Too early to rule Killing Joke out yet, at least. Better luck next time.