Review Summary: A bloody good time, every juicy bit.
Full disclosure: I view God Module’s
Viscera through the lens of a devout metalhead. Were it not for industrial metal, I would have never wandered into the realm of EBM/aggrotech.
Yet, here I am, having one hell of a time with God Module. Perhaps it’s the metal ethos that underlines the songwriting—the steady chug of “Still So Strange” and the riffy low synth lines of “A Simple Restriction”. Speaking of chug, the drum machine likely used throughout deserves praise. Its' tone is stark and plastic, yet thick and propulsive. It cracks away throughout, hammering away on the listener’s eardrums.
Perhaps it’s the simple-yet-rich, dark storytelling that permeates the disk. The lyrics elaborate all manners of torture, misanthropy, and heartbreak. Spooky sampling further educates the listening victim in the ways of suffering. God Module’s selling point may be their creepy-yet-danceable sonic crypt-crawls, but the pensively macabre lyricism enhances the experience.
Perhaps it's the duo’s pop instincts that keep me enthralled. Despite prevalent whisper-screams, Viscera remains hooky (e.g., the choruses of “The Source” and “Lucid”). Most impressively, the synths themselves function as their own hook-creators. They snake icy-cold musical spider-webs around and through otherwise aggressive tracks. Some of the project’s best moments occur when the airier synths and bassier synths interlock and work off each other (e.g., “False Pretense”, “Foreseen”).
This pop inclination is one of God Module’s greatest strengths. Throughout
Viscera, God Module go out of their way to feed the captive listener tasty, poisoned ear candy. The chorus of “Still So Strange” soars like a black raven through a foggy night. It's further elevated by borderline-whimsical chimes and a confident female vocal performance. Breathy choral bits make appearances in the anthemic “A Night Like This” and the bouncy “Sections”. These moments help prevent diminishing returns on repeated listens to this ghost house.
Alas, there’s still obstacles to bar your trips back into the void. The duo craft impressive tracks with minimal instrumentation, but deep variety is missing. A 53-minute runtime, and the slightest bit of filler, doesn’t ease this wound. Still,
Viscera is a blast to lose oneself in—especially for fans of hard music and horror films. The LP is its own horror blockbuster, one with a glimmering disco ball ever-present. Dig into the
Viscera, every last little bit; you’ll have a bloody good time.
