SCATOLOGY

After short stints in Psychic TV and the lesser known Zos Kia, Coil co-founder John Balance absconded off with lover Peter Christopherson to focus on Coil. This early release is a jumble of rage and ideas musically and lyrically. Weird, squelchy ambient and twisted, thumping Industrial, musically; and rage at the aids epidemic, Christianity and some plain old perversity for good measure, lyrically.

Ubu Noir is a short opening to the album, a handful of samples toyed around with, some woodwinds cut and mixed amongst some voices and what sounds like paper being ripped. After this little warm up, Panic starts as stuttering and stumbling quasi danceable (if you were having a seizure) industrial track, anchored by electronic drums and bass, allowing all manner of samples, guitar feedback, and Balance's shouted vocals to wreak havoc, it puts me in mind of a handful of Current 93's attempts at more 'commercial' oriented Industrial. Balances' notes on the song go on about psychic surgery and reverse death and the beginning of the world, but the lyrics can also be seen as allusions to how gay culture was and still can be perceived, 'Anything will be alright, If you come out in the night'. At The Heart Of It All is a much more somber, apocalyptic affair, synth lines slowly twinkle in the background, accompanied with mournful, plodding piano and soon to be full time member Stephen Thrower's howling grief stricken Clarinet playing. Tenderness Of Wolves starts with dark, clanging synth lines, coalescing more odd features; what sounds like a distorted, sampled sound of a baby crying, acoustic guitar and pan pipes. Gavin Friday provides some demented, crooning guest vocals here. Hard to tell if the lyrics are about lovers or vampires, or both. Spoiler returns to somewhat similar industrial stomping grounds of Panic; a dash of tribal, staccato drums and samples of horns form backbone for flauting pan pipes, snatches of guitar noise, and almost comical carnivalesque keyboard intrusions. Vocals are a mixture of sung and croaked, mostly being the word 'Spoiler'. Clap is a short uncomfortable Industrial intrusion, a squeal of guitar and glass shattering leads into a panicked and nervous synth line, swelling synths culminate in a burn out, before reforming shortly and burning out again. Liner notes contain treatment methods for the clap (slang for gonorrhea). An appropriately agitated song for a pertinent and sad time for many people involved with this group, and the anger and agitation only increases during side B.

The CD reissues of Scatology feature some extra songs stuffed after the original A side ending, Restless Day and Aqua Regis as well as Tainted Love, tacked on the end. Restless Day has a strong and driving rhythmic structure of drums, bass, and synth; quaint almost naïve vocals sing song about what I interpret as depression, while various multi-tracked guitar noises slowly crumble in. There's a percussive sound effect throughout the whole song sounding like a ticking clock, maybe hand in hand with lyrics seemingly about the drudgery of everyday life. Aqua Regis starts with some creepy toy piano, before switching gears into a soundscape of a darkened, hellish factory. Far away rumblings and thumpings, clanging and reverberating. Saws and gears grinding and whirring.

This song works very well at leading us back into the original track listing with Solar Lodge. Industrial rhythms and hopeless, wailing clarinet compete for dominance with near unhinged vocals from John Balance. Underneath all this is floating, droning, and warbled bass guitar, much like the subterranean river mentioned in the liner notes, from a quote attributed to Charles Manson about finding a bottomless hole out in the Californian desert, leading to an underground, North flowing river. Bottomless because "where could a river be going North underground?", conjecturing "How many people could you hide down this hole?". The title Solar Lodge is a reference to the Californian based, mid 60s cult/magical order of same name, perhaps most infamous for the case of child abuse stemming from a raid of their ranch, finding a six-year-old boy chained inside a box left in out in the desert. Black sun rising indeed as we spiral further down this path of daylight nightmare into The Sewage Worker's Birthday Party, the liner notes referencing a story in a Swedish S&M magazine and also fulfilling the title of this album. The song itself is one of the more minimal, bass guitar woozily droning and scratching along, uncomfortable rhythmic background squelching, and a singular, persistent, unerring machine thumping loathsomely in the depths of this awful place. It also contains snatches of private and intimate recordings made by Peter Christopherson for added unsavoriness.

Godhead≈Deathead opens with unidentified sounds, but plasticky and latex-y and icky. Quickly we move into a martial industrial beat, various refreshingly whimsical percussive accoutrements accompany militaristic yelled vocals, a mid-song pace change for a slower gothic feel, proto Dungeon Synth. It's cheesy sounding, but I kinda love it. Lyrically we have not moved into the whimsical, here being a takedown of Christianity, liner notes referencing St. Anthony's Fire or Ergot, a fungus that grows on grain and causes convulsions, hallucinations, and rot; being responsible for multiple epidemics during the middle ages. I take the title of the song, Godhead≈Deathead, as dig at the act of communion, bread being a symbol for Jesus' body, yet causing mass poisoning if infected bread is consumed. The next song Cathedral In Flames continues the Christianity battering; the Marquis De Sade, the York Minster fire of July 9, 1984, and the Hadith being lyrically mixed into a seeming ritual induction. It's also the weakest of the album, very similar to the previous song, and far cheesier. Off putting sampled trumpets, stumbling drums, odd cohesion and lots space between sounds, and Balance's nasally vocals don't work for me. Ending the CD rerelease on a better note is a cover of Soft Cell's Tainted Love, Coil opting for much slower, minimal, and somber approach. Balance delivers some beautiful, wistful half sung vocals; synths ringing and floating along, pealing like electronic church bells, echoing Coil's unhappiness of then and still current affairs.

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