So, you wait for almost four years
for new material to emerge by one
of the most unique, impressive acts
on the planet and what do you get?
An album lacking pretty much everything
that made you fall for them in the
first place. That’s not to say
that I don’t admire The Young
Gods for taking new creative routes,
because I do. It’s got more
to do with my own craving for that
kick their old albums gave me (and
still do); that crystal clear high
that’s equal parts poetic beauty
and strangely refined adrenalin rushes
– chance meetings of flowers
and chainsaws on throbbing mixing
desks. KRISTOFFER NOHEDEN |