In an episode of Only Fools And Horses, Trigger reveals he has won an award from the council for saving money, shrewdly replacing the parts for his broom only when needed – seventeen heads and fourteen new handles, no less. Similarly, the good/horrible ship Throbbing Gristle has also had a few changes over the years between their 1981 end and their 2004 reunion. Add to the mix some war wounds, new genders, some personal disasters (the deaths of John Balance and Lady Jane), illustrious post-TG projects and several decades of musical innovation that they can say, in part, they inspired, and TG Mk2 is a different yet familiar, beast. If you’re reading the Quietus, I’m going to wager you know the TG drill: more punk than punk! Questions in Parliament! Pseudo fash imagery as societal mirror! The dog with the funny name! The porn in a gallery setting! The mission was rejuvenated in 2004, kicking off with a concert at London’s Astoria and sporadic live performances and recordings, until Genesis P-Orridge decided to call it a day, leaving the renamed X-TG trio of Cosey Fanny Tutti, Chris Carter and Peter Sleazy Christopherson to carry on until the death of Peter.
TG Berlin collates live and studio recordings from around the time of their 2005/2006 gigs either side of New Year’s Eve 2005, at Berlin’s legendary Volksbühne. The first disc is a New Year’s Eve greatest hits for both TG eras, kicking off with ‘Trumpet Herald’ , a track which summons that daunting feeling your civilisation is about to be wrecked. Highlights include a rowdy ‘Convincing People’ with a bizarre shouted interjection from P-Orridge of ”Studio 54!” at the end (no, me neither, but here for it). ‘Splitting Sky’ is all schaffelfieber chug, whilst ‘Slug Bait’ remains gruesome and no more endearing than the first time you heard it. ‘Rabbit Snare’ is even more unhinged than the version on The Endless Not – especially with the shonky Las Vegas showtune organ. The “do you love me? / why are you scared” line seems even more numb and sad in 2024 than first hearing it in 2007. ‘Almost A Kiss’ (the greatest song Marianne Faithfull has yet to record) has P-Orridge even more desolate and forlorn than the studio recording. ‘Greasy Poo’ (perhaps titled after a visit to the ol’ “left of Berghain main entrance”?) is the wonderful and gruesome Auerbach orgy without decorum you might come to expect from TG. The set is completed with ‘Hamburger Lady’ as their first ever encore, all digitally retouched and airbrushed, but still grim as fuck. With the new tracks, they’ve eased into the (as yet unreleased) The Endless Not material, and developed it further, just like the original incarnation of the broom. The classic tracks have that crisp Ableton re-creation edge – a subtle nip and a tuck for the twenty-first century.
Next up are the two recordings of ‘In The Shadow of the Sun’. Originally recorded for Derek Jarman’s film of the same name, in which the band improvise in a live-to-VHS recording. It’s possibly up there with CD1 as the classic TG-goes-a-bit-ambient moment. The live recording from Volksbühne is an enjoyable rendition of the original recording, the weightless ambience complimented with the fantastic addition of choral washes across the piece. I recall seeing the Tate Modern concert of this and thinking how odd to have something this beautiful with TG. The rehearsal is perhaps my favourite of the two versions. It seems a touch more visceral than the live version – which is beautiful, don’t get me wrong – but the piano-being-broken-apart-down-a-corridor vibe of the rehearsal adds a bit more grit to the ambience.
The weightless space theme continues with the TG Berlin studio session. Plucked strings and clusters of reverb and feedback occupy the first ten-minute section. A (sampled?) choir becomes present, along with occasional screeches, scratches and noises. Around fifteen minutes in, the sustained tones are joined by discreet hoover synth. At around twenty minutes, the sound drops. Grinding synth clears the floor. Twenty-five minutes in, some whispered, almost audible vocals. It’s around thirty-eight minutes when you finally realise HAL is very much not opening the pod bay doors, but the drift is very enjoyable.
The set is rounded off with the final ever TG recordings: ‘Scabs and Saws’/’Wotwududo’ on a 10” single. As with the longer form pieces on TG Now, the track has a consistent and captivating bass rhythm, similar to when the Ostgut crew do dubstep sound design. There aren’t many dramatic changes, but when the components are this good, who cares? I’m calling ‘Scabs and Saws’ as the classic late-period Gensis P-Orridge shaggy dog story: you’re not sure where it’s really going, but it’s a wonderful ramble, even if you’re none the wiser by the end. The lyrics are really rather bonkers and wonderful, starting with “if I gave you clothes to wear, would you care, would you dare?” The piece goes on to include the already-classic line “that’s the dog preserve” and, bizarrely, a reference to lapis lazuli. Add in some guttural screams, and it’s the very definition of malevolent. ‘Wotwududo’ is a more restrained piece, exploring similar sonic concerns, with a more voice-as-instrument approach compared to the A-side.
TG Berlin is a fine document of how brilliant the second incarnation gigs were, and a tantalising peak into what could have been for X-TG (would they ever record the wonderful live track ‘Springbankistan’, for instance?). Is this a release that is going to win over a fresh audience? Probably not, even if it wasn’t a deluxe multi-format boxset. Yet, in a way, it’s good to know Throbbing Gristle are just as wonderfully indigestible as ever. TG Berlin? Throbbing Gristle And It’s Completely Different But Also Still Throbbing Gristle.
