from the LP Killing Joke, Editions EG Records, 1980“…the clock keeps on ticking, he doesn't know why, he's just cattle for slaughter…” It’s finals week around campus, and by the looks on some kid’s faces you’d think it was the end of the bloody world: sunken shell-shocked eyes, slouched shoulders, heads shaking in disgust, furrowed brows & pouting lips as far as the eye can see (as a child, when I’d stick my bottom lip out in protest, my mom used to warn me, “…you better suck that lip in or a seagull is gonna come along and shit on it…”). I’m not the kind of teacher who pulls any punches on exams---fucking hated professors that tried hard to trip you up by asking misleading or trick questions! This elegy was the opening track on one of alternative rock’s most consistently namedropped albums, the self-titled debut LP from British crew Killing Joke, a crunch-n-munching dirge that presents itself like Motörhead meets Gary Numan’s darker stuff in a bottle full of Tuinals. That said, this is hardly impenetrable, and many of the tracks on this top quality album are so catchy you’ll find yourself humming their melodies long after the record stops spinning.
