IMPERIUM

David Tibet of Current 93's tendency to work with anyone and everyone who comes into the Current 93 gravity well has led to some collaborations with decidedly controversial types, and 1987's Imperium album (initially an extremely limited release) might well represent the apogee of that, with the musicians involved including Douglas P. of the ever- controversial Death In June and Tony Wakeford, who based on when this came out was presumably either in the National Front when it was recorded or had only very recently left.

Combine this with a title that shares its name with a Francis Yockey book much beloved by the more intellectual sections of the far right, and you have ample potential for controversy, especially when Imperium IV includes ill-judged lyrics about Christ being betrayed to and crucified by the Jews. (It was the Romans who crucified Christ, a point which somehow doesn't get across despite the chanting of "Imperium!" throughout the Imperium pieces, though since the same song also says Mary rolled away the stone of Christ's tomb perhaps orthodox doctrinal accuracy is not the order of the day here.) There's also ranting about "only the strong survive" in Locust, though in the context of that song it does not sound like something Tibet agrees with.

So, all in all a piece with some profoundly dodgy associations and implications (whether these were intentional or otherwise is rather besides the point), and one which I wouldn't blame anyone for veering away from. And yet, on an artistic front Imperium represents a remarkable creative transition for Current 93, representing the new "apocalyptic folk" approach of the project emerging from the shell of the old ritual ambient industrial format. As with many preceding Death In June releases, each side of the album is essentially one long piece - the four-part Imperium suite on one side and the mysterious "Be Locust Or Alone" quartet on the other.

From moaning, reverb-heavy industrial depths various sounds emerge until they ultimately coalesce into gentle neofolk strumming, with David Tibet rambling about his esoteric religious views and the depravity of the world. Lyrically, aside from the needless emphasis on sniping at Jews the piece is basically politically unobjectionable (though the Jew bit is a serious flaw which shouldn't be brushed aside), and whilst it's not always clear what Tibet is talking about in his sprawling maze of quotes and allusions, it's hard not to be terrified by some parts - such as when he screams "Take me to my dead Christ!" imploringly.

A marred piece, then, but one which is undeniably important to the Current 93 catalogue and musically rewarding in its own right.