Godflesh: Streetcleaner
Simon Reynolds, Melody Maker, October 1989
IT'S a superb name. Perhaps only Blind Idiot God is more emblematic of the late Eighties state of anti-consciousness. Not so much because of the blasphemous notion of cannibalising the Deity, but because of the gut-level grasp of this idea. That access to the Divine is not through serene contemplation of the Beyond, but through sheer immersion in brute concrete reality. That we taste the Sacred when we sink our teeth... stupidly.
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