![]() ![]() Influenced by the pioneers of the industrial genre, such as Throbbing Gristle, Chemlab brought a rough, experimental approach to their music. in 1989 by Dylan Thomas More and Jared Louche with the help of short-time member Joe Frank. Overall, the lyrics of Exile On Mainline paint a bleak picture of a world that is both overwhelming and indifferent, and a speaker who is struggling to find a foothold in the midst of it all.Ĭhemlab is a Coldwave and Industrial rock (or "Machine Rock") band formed in Washington D.C. The image of a scratched record jumping and skipping further reinforces the feeling of being stuck, trapped in a loop that cannot be escaped. The chorus, with its repetition of "skipping, skipping, skipping," intensifies this sensation of disorientation and dislocation. The following lines describe a sense of time passing relentlessly, like water seeping out - an image that further emphasizes the speaker's feeling of being adrift and disconnected from reality. Instead, it may be a desperate attempt to feel something, anything, in a world that seems increasingly distant and alienating. The "bite of your touch" implies that this consumption is not entirely voluntary or pleasurable. The first line "Wasting the world away at the bite of your touch" suggests that the speaker is consuming the world around them, perhaps even devouring it, but also being consumed by it. “Filament” is fabulous for its grimy immediacy, a bit Suicide-ish, always superlative.The lyrics of Chemlab's song Exile On Mainline seem to be describing a state of detachment and escapism from the world. Which is great, because y’know, they’re snotty punk kids, not Keith Richards or whatever. “Chemical Halo” is pretty spectacular, and almost half as piss-stained and debauched and unbalanced as they wanted to be. Nitzer Ebb if they were glue sniffers? And really proud of their drug intake? The mid-paced scary ass stuff is the best I could do without all the guitar-y, dance-y raveups. Sorta Nitzer Ebby, but then, I probably just pissed someone off by fucking up the chronology. Which only leaves us with one question: does Suture live up to the bright promise? Well, it’s a fine slice of spiteful agit-dance, very familiar in a sense. There you go, a classic tale of triumph over adversity. In steps Atkins again, letting Louche fling a bunch of unreleased, rare, and remix tracks at the listening public like a bereaved mother, as if to say, “Here it is, you bastards! Look what you killed!” And if superlative metal rag Terrorizer is to be believed, a reunion is in the work as well. In interviews, Louche would constantly reference the band and his helplessness during their demise. Oh yesss, but I guess the premature end of Chemlab still weighed quite heavily on his mind. Invisible label head Martin Atkins played benefactor to Lab leader Jared Louche, dusting him off and giving him an outlet to create dandy new music, Covergirl. A sad tale, yes, but by no means a unique tale in the world of music as commodity. Let’s Kill.) were just brutally torpedoed by label incompetence and label death. ![]() Capsule history: Bright young hopefuls with a fabulous T-shirt slogan (Fuck Art. They’re not gonna win the big pennant, mind you, but they’ll give it their best. For the original Bad News Bears of the mid-nineties electro-industrial scene, everything is gonna turn out okay. Ultimately, there is going to be a happy ending for Chemlab.
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