The road from pandemonium to democracy is as graceful an artistic leap as you want it to be or as twisted and pock marked as the coven of Republican candidates who have debated their collective self worth's. For Killing Joke's mouthpiece Jaz Coleman (who has no less wind mind you than the aforementioned gaggle of candidates combined), it's the former...sort of.
Mixed in with all the reunion hulabaloo that descended upon the band when 1994's Pandemonium saw light of day were bucketloads of pagan sensibility and guitar throttled mysticism. Jaz's sense of abandon was probably never afforded so much on vinyl resonance before. This they took from the chambers of the Great Pyramids of Giza (where Jaz actually finagled some recording time) to the length and breadth of America where they logged an eighty date tour of the U.S. But the scope of such a ride, combined with the manic pace of Coleman's current work ethic (he divides his time between the band, symphonic composition, and way too many trans-oceanic flights from his New Zealand home), may be finally bleeding into the mix.
With the return of Youth on the bottom end and behind the board, Pandemonium was a Killing Joke refueled by a new vibrant throb and huge middle eastern painted atmospheres. The bone obliterating guitar work, and soul purging vocals were there only because this was intended as rock and roll. But now, Democracy, while maintaining many of the same elements, is the band not quite full on. Perhaps it's because the gleeful anxiety of the refurbished lineup has dissapated a touch, or because Jaz spent a couple theraputic post tour weeks in the new age wonderland of Sedona, Arizona. Or as he tells it, it's due more to having assembled most of the music in a quiet English country home during one of the most blissful summers in recent memory.
Whichever's the case, Democracy sounds more like the band in sub- overdrive, coming closer to the well balanced and the efficiently tempered unrestraint of their Nighttime LP. Witness "Aeon" for starters with its manicured rhythmic drive and its lead riff tunefully spinning off into overall ambience. Coming some time after the weak ire of the opening track ("Savage Freedom"), it's where Democracy peaks stylistically. "Medicine Wheel" works well and along the same design, but the title track, with its weariness done up in minor chords and slow melodic choruses represents the other side of the disc's coin. Geordie's work is impeccably paced and crafted for the heady environs that Jaz wants to create, but his embellishments are never fussy or overdone and he's the Joke's most reliable element.
But even when they choose vibe over melody as their chief concern, they don't lapse into a state where you feel they are feeding filler. "Another Bloody Election" and "Absent Friends" aren't necessarily as musically compelling as their subject material may be, but they aren't tossed off vehicles for Coleman's heartfelt visions either. But considering the volumes of his other output, you can't not wonder whether Jaz as ringleader reserves enough oomph for the Killing Joke side of his life. After the unabated neo-pagan romp of the last effort, Democracy is an overall reassuring stroke that says they could probably serve up more of the solid material they have here if they just "channeled" appropriately.
