Terminal Gods - Lessons in Fire

Martin Heidegger: Terminal thinker

With a string of European live dates iminant, I get a hold of the second single from rising London-based rock 'n' rollers Terminal Gods.

Having fallen victim to lazy, short-sighted journalism, it remains all too easy to write Terminal Gods off as yet another smoke and shades Goth-by-numbers collective.  In truth however, there was little tying debut ‘Electric Eyes’ to the Sisters’ well-trodden path of danceable gloom - a sing-along slice of leather-clad riffage that owed as much to Johnny Thunders and the Stooges as it did Brit-Goth’s second wave. Indeed, men sang in baritone before [Andrew] Eldritch, as plenty more followed: Jim Morrison fused the purring croon of Sinatra with edgier, more abrasive textures as the former still occupied a single figure age bracket. Of course, the photos are a tad incriminating, but you’ve only to talk with the band to see beyond that.

The DIY traits are all in place: that waxy vinyl aroma, homespun visual continuity, and a bonus track for the discerning listener. Even the cover art has a story – inspired by a line in Heidegger’s ‘Between Good & Evil’, discussing the image is anecdotal enough to bring a university graduate to quivers. A-side ‘Lessons in Fire’ fades in and, well, they’ve only gone and written a pop song – a spiralling 12-string riff, sparse verses and a harmonised chorus that despite lacking the ‘woah’ factor this time, will keep us hollering at our speakers for weeks to come. It’s certainly one of those relentless, dandruff dishevelling moments, with all four band members wrestling for your attention. ‘The Card Player’ is a much darker, less predictable animal. Wound tight to the point of suffocation, rhythm section Josh Cooper [guitar] and Katie Helinski [bass] come to the fore here in some of the band’s finest ensemble playing. While the song does not possess the former’s enduring vitality, there is enough stirring imagery in the wordplay to keep things interesting, that shaky guitar intro notwithstanding.

With the studio trickery of Goth supremo Tim Chandler conspicuously absent on this home-produced effort, all could have unravelled. Fortunately, with the steady hand of engineer Gordon Young [Pretentious, Moi?/Seraphin Twin], the sound is rich and organic; textured, without removing the four people between the grooves.

It packs a defiant punch, and as a statement of intent, is hard to beat. With a string of European dates imminent, Terminal Gods could begin living up to their name. You can call it daft, bombastic, even. Unfortunately, with amps to 11 and gassy pint in hand, no one can hear you. A worthy follow up. “You gotta do it again…”