When
Skinny Puppy last graced the world of industrial music with a release,
1996’s The Process, they had been plagued by more
tragedy than any 10 bands combined. Longtime keyboard programmer
R. Dwayne Goettel had died of a heroin overdose in the aftermath
of an inventive cry for help that involved him wrapping his arms
in barbed wire. cEvin Key shattered some bones in an accident on
a film set, and creative differences had led longtime collaborators
Key and Nivek Ogre to head their separate ways. But after a near-decade
spent concentrating on numerous on-going side projects (The Tear
Garden and Download, to name a few) the Canadian duo has reunited
to create The Greater Wrong Of The Right, a disc that marks
a notable departure from anything they’ve released in the
last two decades.
“I’mmortal”
kicks off The Greater Wrong Of The Right with a riff frighteningly
similar to Pop Will Eat Itself’s industrial-dance crossover
classic “Ich Bin Ein Auslander.” But if Pop Will Eat
Itself were the stylistic precursor to what would become crappy
nu-metal, Skinny Puppy thankfully doesn’t travel too far down
that done-to-death path, instead remaining firmly planted in the
realm of electronic dance. However, it seems SP has gone as far
as to eschew their most aggressive elements, ones that often have
them spoken of in the same breath as Ministry during its heyday,
in favor of a sound more suited to the EBM fetish that dominates
today’s industrial dance floor. Gone is Ogre’s famously
disgust-drenched growl in favor of a more mellowed vocal style;
also largely vanished is the vicious, marching synthesized onslaught
that permeates most of the Skinny Puppy catalog.
But
Skinny Puppy hasn’t entirely abandoned its infamous brand
of aural violence on The Greater Wrong, just toned it down
a bit. The undulating chorus and throbbing beats of “Neuwerld”
recall days more aggro, as does the unconventional slow build of
the anthemic “Use Less.” Even the far-too-club-friendly
“Past Present” maintains a bit of the flare for experimentalism
that always set Skinny Puppy apart from more straightforward bands
of the industrial ilk. It’s hard to say if this new, more
subtle approach to tried-and-true hostility is an artistic progression
or a sign of mollification. You won’t find mind-obliterating
tracks like “Fascist Jock Itch” on this disc, but if
you’re still as fanatical about SP as you were in the late
‘80s to mid-’90s, you’ll probably find a few throwbacks
to their glory days of furious electronic nihilism that’ll
make The Greater Wrong worth your while.
—Matthew
Stern
|

|