Opening with an extended John Lydon belch (beg yours), This Is PiL sees them at their deranged, challenging best and it comes with a warning: “You are now entering a PiL zone.” This is the band's first studio album in 20 years and an enormously rewarding listening experience. Lydon's vocal is as caustic as ever, percussively delivered. He has a way of manipulating/twisting words that makes you wanna steer clear of the perverse secrets nestled in the recesses of his (undoubtedly dark) grey matter: “It said what/What did it said/It said that/Now that is a rat/Rat-tat-tat/Go gossip that.” Council flats are portrayed as gaol cells (The Room I Am In) and Lydon's spoken-word portrayal will transport you to solitary confinement.
The instrumentation of Lollipop Opera is hypnotic. The best way to dance along is lurching forward and back like a chained British bulldog straining the boundaries. Snarl optional. Occasional guitars sparkle atop a somewhat sickening drone as Lydon's vocals taunt you while you sway. Reggie Song demonstrates the musicians' dedication to providing the perfect foundation for Lydon's rant: oscillating, multi-layered riffs courtesy of Lu Edmonds, Scott Firth's penetrating bass and Bruce Smith's effortlessly unpredictable drumming. Closer, Out Of The Woods, runs just shy of ten minutes. It incorporates a charging “Here we AAAAAaaaare!” rallying chorus and Deliverance-esque, hillbilly banjo breakdown but would more suitably soundtrack an updated take on A Clockwork Orange. The release winds down, sucked through a spacey wind tunnel.
It is possible to experience terror in musical form and this album sounds like the aural equivalent of tattooing yourself with a safety pin and biro. Repeat prescriptions of 21st Century PiL come strongly recommended. Not for everyone, just those with advanced sonic receptors.
