The kind of collapse witnessed here is a slow degeneration and deterioration, one that’s more obsessed with the mutation in the reconfiguration of the seams than the sanguinary remains of those crushed by the bottom falling out.
Never so pretty as Content or as clinical as their earliest efforts, this latest album from Gang of Four marks an ugly and interesting new era for the band.
There are plenty of grinding riffs and pummeling beats here for those searching for them. Listeners satisfied with that, and with a few vaguely shouted, anthemic refrains against, y’know, oppression, will like this record just fine.