From Louder Than War: God Bullies: As Above So Below
ALBUM REVIEW: God Bullies' monstrous new one. Hot Giddedy God.
God Bullies: As Above So Below
LP|CD|DL
Out Now.
It’s testament to Noise Rock’s staying power that two releases of such magnitude, by musicians of such heady vintage, could be released on the same day and be as gob-smackingly awesome as each other. Sean Millard takes a breath after slithering all over Human Impact, to make slippery space for the amazing new God Bullies LP, As Above So Below.
If push came to shove – and it really wouldn’t take much pushing or shoving – I would happily declare the best label of all time to be Amphetamine Reptile Records. Their stunning 1989 release schedule sealed the deal for me; Cows, Tar, Helios Creed, Halo of Flies, Boss Hog, Surgery, Helmet, Lubricated Goat… it’s amazing that one record label – in one year – could introduce that many great bands to the world. Without exception, they’ve all stayed with me, and still sound just as filthy 35 years later.
Label owner Tom Hazelmyer could actually be the Holy Trinity herself.
I missed one band off that list on purpose, although they had already released a single and their debut LP on AmRep by 1989: God Bullies. I omitted them because they never really washed with me like the rest of the roster did. Of course I picked up their records – I’m a completist, after all – but they just didn’t get played as often as Cows, Helios and Surgery et al. I’m not sure why. I think I felt that they lacked the musical strength of the other bands. They didn’t feel quite as striking to me. I didn’t totally buy into their mad-guy-wide-eye shtick. It was too theatrical.
I’m not saying I was right – and I’m certainly not trying to justify anything – I’m just saying that I’m not coming to this review with any pre-existing baggage. I’m not an Online Armchair Anarchist screaming “The old ones are the best!”. Nor am I lamenting the absence of the original lineup. I’m just stating the facts, in order to contextualise what I’m about to say regarding their first new LP in 30 years: As Above So Below is easily the best work the band has committed to record. Ever. It’s ace.
My ears have opened up to God Bullies. Praise the heavens, I’m finally here.
To all intents and purposes, this is an entirely different band to the one that released Mama Womb Womb, Dog Show, War on Everybody, Kill The King and Plastic Eye Miracle. The only remaining member from those days is vocalist-with-a-lunatic-aesthetic, Mike Hard, much to the chagrin of the original lineup, if their Farcebook page is a credible source. It should be notedthat those comments exclude original guitarist David Livingstone, who sadly died last year (RIP) and actually co-wrote some of the songs on this LP.
Today’s band is made up from the musicians Mike Hard has been playing with for the last three decades – Thrall. I’m sorry to the die-hards, but this band is better. It’s stronger, less predictable. Not so Garagey. Heavier. Leaning into their past with their shoulders but driving it forward with their feet to the floor. It feels different, even though it’s intrinsically interwoven with Hard’s work from the 1990s.
The clear evidence of this is how blown away I am by the wreckage this band can create after 30 years of playing together. At last, the music of God Bullies feels as confrontational as Hard’s visage is. Scott Kodrik’s guitars are discordant, inventive and add real texture and detail to the groove that’s being laid down behind him by the bass of Pat O’Harris and Cliff Carinci’s drums. Mike Hard’s pulpit now has the leaden weight and brittle noise that it always needed to properly support his evangelical hollering.
God Bullies 2024 are a magnificent beast, but I don’t want to totally dismiss the band’s past successes; Mama Womb Womb and Dog Show, especially, are well worth checking out. It’s just that this… this… well…
Buckle up, kid. We’re going in.
I don’t think you have the authority to describe a track as “lurching” if you haven’t full absorbed album opener (and pre-release taster), I Am Mighty. That bass groove is HUGE. Lyrically, Hard seems to be hailing righteous dissidents in the face of all their gods. Familiar territory. You want essays on political corruption, corporate control, warmongering and organised religion’s role in all of these conspiratorial activities? Listen to a Mike Hard sermon. The winding title track comes next, with it’s fab opening gambit:
“Riding into Golgotha on the back of a donkey
With the 12 Apostles all begging for money
Carrying the head of John the Baptist
Wrapped up as a gift for the fascist…”
And so begins a Linda Blair-style vomitory wretch into the face of Christianity, far more acidic than anything expelled from the gullet of corpse-painted Norwegians in recent years. Bloody marvellous. Both the cannon-balling Lies (WWG1WGA) and the grueling Save Me that follow, add a musicality and compositional nuance that I never spotted before in God Bullies.
In an entirely bizarre move, Hard summons his best Eldritch impersonation for the next song, You Never Know. And it works! The music is suitably sparse. It’s not trying to blast you away, so when his dulcet baritone, yearningly, groans:
“The game has been rigged from the start
The deck’s been stacked and the cards are marked.
We all have a choice, so I took a chance
I bet on myself and was gone in a glance.”
… you’re entirely at one with his loss, sorrow and futility.
Side One closes with the banging and loping Help – and Yow-like tones squelch through the microphone. Carinci’s drums stand out on this one and it’s probably the most “vintage” God Bullies track so far. Which, contrary to what I said earlier, is no bad thing.
Side Two launches with the riff of the set. The first minute or so of You Call This Love recalls early Swans with its slamming monotony. That slave-ship machinery collapses with a break beat that picks the pace up and turns it into a rolling, energetic anthem that’s also got a little bit of Årabrot about it. Cool, huh?
A Nice Place To Visit has the squealingiest guitar break of the LP in its bridge, and Hard is coming on like a barrel chested Mark E Smith, as he ends every line with “- ah”:
“Take one every four hours as needed for pain – ah
Call me when you wake up -ah
Your life -ah won’t ever be the same -ah…”
It might be my favourite –ah.
Hard’s paranoias come to the fore in Cops In Plain Clothes with its distorted vocals and claustrophobic riffs. Likewise, We Are The Enemy, with its powerful message of media control and victimisation, rails against the authority that so many of us take for granted. The thud of the rolling toms that introduce the song are as oppressive as the lyrical theme. Everything about the song is heavy as f**k. Even Hard’s weird TV Candidate Debate tone doesn’t lighten it up. It’s a really good mid-side song. It’s also the single tune on here so far that falls short of magnificent. Having said that, in a live setting, I can imagine the crowd screaming “Know Your Enemy!!” and the song elevating itself to unforgettable.
The dense and distorted Fight The Fascist comes next. It’s an odd collision between thick, syrupy mud and a levitating lead in the bridge that lifts it high into the air, before it slams back down again, crawling away on its belly through the mud, the blood and the beer. The album closes with Dem Bones. A minute long multi-layered voice collage of a sermon that wouldn’t feel out if place on Locust Abortion Technician.
The album was recorded at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio studio – although not by him – by Sanford Parker, who has done a really brilliant engineering job. The sound of the rooms in that studio give the band all the power they need. It’s a magical place where all the world’s sonic ley lines seem to collide.
My copy is one of the 750 pressed on blue/red/white splatter vinyl, from Reptilian’s EU Distro, Sounds of Subterrania. There’s a lyric sheet to paw over too. I also bought this digitally. It’s amazing how much richer and deeper the vinyl sounds. If you can get a physical copy, do so.
In a world where identifying as an inanimate object is no longer considered to be mental, and no one objects to anything anyone says for fear of being cancelled, we need bands like God Bullies more than we ever did. Mike Hard’s message hasn’t changed, but because in the meantime we have been homogenised into excessive wokery, his words feel dangerous and near the knuckle in a way they just wouldn’t have before. At last, someone is fearlessly presenting another side for consideration. We need it for balance. The God Bullies feel naughty in 2024.
I am so pleased with this album. I’ve seen the light. It has come in vast rays, illuminating my path; drawing back the dark curtains shrouding my destiny, to allow me to bask in the floodlit glory of God Bullies.
It’s a beautiful thing.
Tons of God Bullies shit on Darkslide
All words by Sean Millard