In cinematic critique, the auteur theory considers a given film’s director as almost the sole visionary behind a project. Think of directors strongly identified with their work — a “Kubrick film,” a “Spielberg film,” etc. The idea is that while filmmaking is a collaborative process, that collaboration is geared toward bringing the director’s vision to life in the finished product, and all perspective is filtered through that vision one way or another. The artist — which in this case the director — isn’t separate from the work.

It’s hard in some ways not to think of Jesu along the same lines. Of course, the music of Justin K. Broadrick‘s more melodic post-Godflesh outfit has always been visually evocative, so I by no means expect I’m the first to relate it in terms of cinema, but in terms of the line where Broadrick ends and Jesu, the band, begins, it’s hard to know, especially when it comes to the self-titled debut album released in late 2004 through Hydra Head Records, Conspiracy Records (2LP) and Daymare Recordings (Japanese 2CD).

Broadrick, now 52, turned 35 the year Jesu released Jesu. At 74 minutes and eight songs, the album is comprised of songs written and recorded by Broadrick himself between 2001 and 2004. Jesu had already tested the waters with earlier ’04’s Heart Ache 40-minute two-songer — considered an EP despite the runtime — and clearly the intention was to break away at least in part from the prior established modus that had been defined through Godflesh, who across several landmark releases had no small part in defining the course of industrial metal in the 1990s.

Godflesh‘s last album, Hymns, was released in 2001, and the band broke up on the cusp of embarking on a European tour — with Fear Factory, as I recall — to support it. I interviewed Broadrick when this record came out and he spoke openly about what was going on at the time for him; he talked about it very much as a nervous breakdown, something personal in the realization that where he was heading was not where he wanted to be. Of course, Godflesh would get back together circa 2011, and go on to release new material — recently compiled as the All Hail the New Flesh box set; clever — but as the last song on Hymns was “Jesu,” one might think Broadrick was picking up where he left off.

In some ways, yes. Programmed beats and other electronic aspects pervade songs like “Sun Day” and “Friends Are Evil,” but the naked emotionality and self-examination of the lyrics in “Tired of Me,” “We All Faulter,” the opener “Your Path to Divinity,” on and on, is something apart even from the deepest Godflesh ever went. And the music, what Broadrick — joined intermittently throughout by drummer Ted Parsons (who still contributes to the band), bassist Diarmuid Dalton and guitarist Paul Neville — does with the forms he helped define, is markedly different, less aggressive, more melancholy, more searching. There’s plenty of weight throughout, and the growls at root in the penultimate “Man/Woman” are fairly telling of how Broadrick had spent his career up to that point, but in addition to Godflesh‘s breakup being a significant event for that era in metal, the advent of Jesu was indeed enough of an aesthetic turn to mark it out as the beginning of a new band.

Jesu, largely, is a slog. There’s some tempo behind “Friends Are Evil,” and at just under seven minutes, “We All Faulter” feels like a ‘hit single’ in comparison to some of what surrounds, but there’s no question that the defining aspect of the record is the way it brings together a post-rock melody with sounds that are as heavy emotionally as they are in tone and impact. It it is a subtle release, with shifts in expressive intent — consider the structural differences between the meandering “Your Path to Divinity” and the more willfully repetitive “Walk on Water,” with its gorgeous, sad procession, or the lumbering and experimental feeling closer “Guardian Angel,” its lyrics down to four simple lines delivered in drawn out, barely-comprehensible fashion, “You found the key to escape/ But I need the same key to run away from me/And you know the need and we see the same things/We know the outside is your true inside.”

What does that mean? I don’t know. What does anything mean? That kind of verbal and aural impressionism — things vague, things opaque, things unknown — is rampant throughout Jesu, and as direct as some of Broadrick‘s past work had been, the obscurity here was no less a part of the purpose than the blend of guitar clarity and distorted rumbling beneath or the droning finish that caps the album, fading away like the course of a passing thought. There’s beauty in Jesu‘s Jesu — a lot of it — but as with much of the work the band would undertake, its exploration comes across as much about the person or at least persona behind it as it does the songwriting itself. It’s rare that crossing such a line results in a finished product so engaging or immersive.

Jesu and Godflesh — as well as Broadrick‘s myriad other works as JK Flesh, etc. — coexist now, of course, and in addition to various other mixes of this record, Broadrick‘s Bandcamp is host to the full slew of outings, including 2020’s Terminus (discussed here), which one only hopes was not prophetically titled. That album, Jesu‘s sixth overall, was the first one in seven years as much of Broadrick‘s attention had been put on the resurgent Godflesh, but as to what his future plans might be for one, the other, or both, I can’t say. The exploration that Jesu began nearly 17 years ago, however, is still going on, and one can hear that across their catalog. Whether Broadrick continues it or leaves it aside for some measure of time or whatever the future brings, this work remains singularly resonant.

I mentioned his age before, and not arbitrarily. To me, Jesu‘s Jesu sounds like someone entering adulthood and looking back maybe on some regrets, some sadness, some choices that could or should have been different, but ultimately reconciling what was with what is. There’s a lot of realization in it, sonically and emotionally, and the sincerity with which it’s presented is unmistakable. Individual. His own. A Broadrick album.

As always, I hope you enjoy.

—

This week was awful until yesterday. I turned 40 this past Tuesday — no doubt another reason I’m thinking of age above — and I’ve never been into birthdays. Ever. It’s not about a new decade. I don’t care. Let it go.

Then The Patient Mrs. bought me a home arcade and that showed up yesterday afternoon and, well, I pretty much melted. I don’t like defining feeling loved through the acquisition of material goods. I don’t need them. I haven’t had a job since 2017. My entire life is a gift, by any metric you want to use. When I talk about writing for this site, I call it “work.” Can you imagine anything so laughable? I have “work” to do posting about Kadavar and Elder. And that’s my life!

Ridiculous.

But I was genuinely touched by the gift and though I feel like there’s going to be an awful lot more screen time in The Pecan’s life as a result, at least maybe it’s something we can do together. He’ll be four on Monday. We’re having a party this weekend, family coming down. I expect and hope the cousins will also enjoy a bit of classic arcade fare.

It was difficult to be grumpy after that. She even put images from Star Trek on the sides. Lower Decks on one side and Deep Space 9 on the other. As if to say, “I know you, fucker!” to my entire being.

No Gimme show this week, gotta put together a playlist for next week. Might do all Type O Negative for Halloween? I don’t know. Anyone think that’s a terrible idea? Yes, I’m asking for permission to do it. Please leave a comment with your thoughts. Please. Anybody.

Next week is full. The Jointhugger album is out next weekend and in fact I had been hoping to put in the request to stream it but the week got full in spite of me and I think I missed my shot. I suck at this, we know that. Alas, I did the EP earlier this year so I’ll hang my hat there, though the record is really good. In any case, next week is front-to-back. Couple full streams, some videos, the whole nine. You know how we do these days.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. If you want to come to The Pecan’s birthday party on Saturday, it’s from 12-4 and we’ll have a bounce house and snackies. And an arcade, apparently. Bring the kids. PM for address. I’m dead serious. The inside of the house is under construction and most of the party will be outside, so wear a hoodie or some such.

Otherwise, whatever you’re up to, hydrate, be well. Watch your head.

FRM.

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Tags: Avalanche Recordings, Birmingham, Hydra Head Records, Jesu, Jesu Self-titled, self-titled, UK

This entry was posted on Friday, October 22nd, 2021 at 12:53 pm and is filed under Bootleg Theater. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.