About two months passed between Greymachine’s Disconnected and the new Jesu EP Opiate Sun. By the standards of the main brain behind both projects, Justin K. Broadrick, this almost constitutes something of a creative drought. I exaggerate slightly, but Broadrick is the type who seems to release something on an almost monthly basis, and while his work maintains an impressive consistency, keeping up with it can become wearisome for all but the most rabid of his devotees. While such fanatics would decry any suggestion that Broadrick ought to scale back his production, the sheer volume of even Jesu’s catalogue alone (13 major releases since 2004) means that records like this one will inevitably fall through the cracks. There are advantages to looking at albums as unitary objects, of course, but the surplus of Jesu material out there threatens to so completely eclipse this effort as to render its release pointless.
It is possible of course that some listeners will come across this release without previous exposure to Jesu or Broadrick’s other projects, which include industrial metal pioneers Godflesh and long-running ambient solo gig Final. Jesu’s sound is best described as a combination of the fuzzed out malaise of shoegaze and the weighty misery of contemporary drone doom, which ends up sounding very much like a particularly abrasive sort of post-rock. If this doesn’t exactly seem like a novel concept to you, it’s because it isn’t: post-metallers like Isis and Pelican (not to mention Jesu themselves) have been labouring at this sort of thing since the turn of the century, and it’s rapidly becoming dated. The twist on this rather staid formula is that Broadrick has always claimed Jesu is an outlet for his pop songwriting, and this attitude towards composition does steer the music in a slightly different direction.
To say this is “pop” songwriting is somewhat misleading; it’s arguably less catchy than Sigur Rós or even Explosions in the Sky’s recent work, but there’s a definite alternative rock vibe lurking underneath dirges like “Losing Streak” and the title track. The best comparison here might be Earth’s 1996 LP Pentastar: In the Style of Demons, in which Dylan Carlson (best known for giving Kurt Cobain that shotgun) and his band of scowling droneheads decided to melt post-grunge into a pool of molten plastic and get high on the fumes. Broadrick’s songs are more earnest than Carlson’s, but both present a vision of mainstream rock warped into stroboscopic lament. That said, while Broadrick may have a clear, pleasant voice and the ability to craft songs which subtly evolve throughout their marathon run-times, you are not going to come out of this record with a song stuck in your head. The appeal here, as in most post-rock, is still in experiencing the journey from minimalist lull to crystalline crescendo. If that sort of thing still appeals to you, or you’re an insatiable Jesu junkie, you could do worse than to try this EP on for size. Most other listeners will feel wearied of the whole thing well before its brief 25 minute length has elapsed.
