We stare aghast at the dynamics of nerd media convergence, and in particular a modern zombiggedon that has not managed, over several years of rotten meat barrage and hick vernacular, to produce a single moment worth a footnote in the original opus of Master Romero (the exception being Left 4 Dead and its sequel). Or perhaps it did after we gave up on it all. Is the Walking Dead any good?
It’s not so hard to take things to the next level. Let us lucubrate.
The population dynamics of a world infected by a zombie holocaust would clearly result in the extermination/retreat of the human race from large swathes of the territory. Potential scenarios following from this:
 A zombie famine perhaps slowed down by gory feasting on the thriving wildlife, or mass migration to new areas populated by humans. Only retarding the need for…
 A zombie enlightenment where the unthinking hordes develop some basic organisational skills, and start harvesting humans for their brains. And if not…
 A zombie lethargy, where the undead slip into a coma until humans come back from a safe haven where they have gathered in numbers to recover their strength. But of course we prefer…
 To assume that zombies derive nourishment not from alive flesh per se, but from intelligence stored in brains, which replenishes their decaying nervous systems with neuroelectrical energy. From this follows that, if by the time the zombie holocaust takes place, humans have managed to deliver on the promise of Artificial Intelligence, then zombies will move on to feed on the data infrastructure once they are done with real people. Zombies against robots. Moore vs Fulci. Biomechanical carnage. Come on people, this is surely someone’s wet dream. Make it happen.
Which brings us to today’s musicks. One would be hard pressed to find a more fitting candidate to soundtrack the industrial death clash of that final scenario than the psychic commandoes after whom this humble blog is named. Throbbing Gristle. Yes. Savour the words like an innocent child after taking a bite from the putrid apple. We should do this more often, whenever we feel lacking in the energy required to make sense of modern culture, visit Gristle La and get purified.
Start the test.
Adrenalin was included in a 7’’ the other side of which was Distant Dreams (Part 2), which you may have heard in one of those era-defining Soul Jazz Compilations. It captures in its aerodynamic envelope the nihilistic momentum of the man machine synthesis with which life in this planet steps into the next level, to the stern metronomic crack of a dominatrix whip. Think Patrick Cowley’s Menergy, and then reverse the polarity.
And let us continue with the TG vibes down the ill-lit corridors of a hopefully abandoned abattoir, by the bony hand of German Army. They are a minimal synth project involving members of Bipolar Bear/Turrks and former Spits, and their Calypso Host is up there with the best cuts from Chi-town’s nocto-liminal renaissance (e.g. Beau Wanzer or Alex Barnett) – although they don’t hail from Chicago.
Slash! This is the bit in Escape of LA where Snake slips into the cellar of the cosmetic surgery clinic hosting those faded celebrities who had their skeletons extracted, smooth is (supposed to be) beautiful. You can almost picture an H.R. Giger/Black Dice spawned reincarnation of Doctor Phibes freestyling on his organ, sounds refracted and distorted as they course through vats overflowing with sentient, abominable flesh.
Picture above is of course from Stalker, just imagine Snake Plissken somewhere in there.