Virtual Control is the debut solo album from revered Killing Joke drummer Big Paul Ferguson. Riffing on themes of social control, the rise of social media and totalitarianism, it’s a challenging album that draws on a mix of post-punk and industrial to claw at the listener from a claustrophobic mix (Mark Gemini Thwaite, also credited as co-writer). Often hypnotic, occasionally savage, it is an intelligent and atmospheric body of work best heard in one sitting, as it draws the listener along on a journey that takes in some dark paths and interesting digressions along the way.
Opening with Lapdogs, Virtual Control gets off to a fine start drawing on a huge range of influences to offer something refreshingly original in an increasingly jaded industry. Inevitably, Big Paul’s tribal percussion recalls the Killing Joke mothership, but the astringent guitars and layered vocals recall the post-punk weirdness of King Crimson’s Discipline and latter-day David Bowie respectively. The result is powerful, yet hypnotic, the arcing guitars shooting sparks from the song’s dense heart. Built around old school synth drums, Shiny Toys takes the polemic of Roger Waters and gives it an industrial makeover as Big Paul lists the horrors of modern society. The spiralling backdrop builds to a thunderous climax, juxtaposed against Big Paul’s calm, almost numb, delivery, making for an unsettling listening experience with a visceral punch. The album’s pace is then slowed, with the intro to The Unravelling evoking nothing so much as The Orb turned evil, a sense given greater weight as Big Paul grinds out the word “safe” over and over, with an intensity that suggests the listener is anything but. There’s real depth and melody here, and Big Paul plays to his strengths as a vocalist, once again bringing Bowie’s Reeves Gabrels years to mind. Grinding bass and ominous synth give way to a surprisingly clean drum tone on the pulsing Extrapolate (represented here in a Tom Dalgety mix), which has a gothic hue in its reverb-washed guitars and stuttering electronica. Then there’s the pointed Plausible Deniability, a phrase that represents the worst of a politician’s Machiavellian impulses, given voice here as one of the album’s slowest, darkest tracks. With gargantuan, hulking drums and chiming guitars, it is a brooding, post-punk monster, the like of which you rarely hear these days, and everything from the production to the delivery is designed to draw you into the track’s cynical heart.
Opening the album’s second half, the vital surge of Seeping Through The Cracks (feat. Tim Skold) eases the listener out from the reverie inspired by the preceding track, as churning guitars crash against Manson-esque vocals. Atmospheric and engaging, it is not only a brilliant track, but also a powerful reminder of Tim Skold’s talent, sparking the hope that Tim and Big Paul will collaborate again in the future – on the strength of this track, it would be one hell of an album. A shorter, calmer piece, Sea Of Judgement mixes ambient noise and spoken-word passages, bridging the way to the hard-driven pulse of Data Lama, arguably the closest track here to Killing Joke’s vibrant assault, with its eccentric guitar and relentless pace. The Bowie-esque Glass Houses is an odd piece that comes to a sudden end just as you think you’re settling in to its unconventional approach, leaving the gently shimmering Dystopian Vibe (feat. Jurgen Engler of Die Krupps) to see the album out in a sea of echoing voices and post-rock guitar soundscapes. It is a surprising, yet apt, conclusion to an album that delights in gently pushing past expectations, and it helps the listener back to the cold light of day, having lost themselves in Big Paul’s world for forty-five minutes or so.
A varied and intelligent body of work, Virtual Control takes Big Paul’s instinctive and imaginative percussive barrage and pairs it with a diverse array of influences to paint a compelling, if bleak, picture of modern society. While sonic nods to Killing Joke are inevitable, the album freely draws on wiry post-punk, belligerent industrial and even ethereal post-rock, making for an album that stands impressively apart from Big Paul’s day job. Satisfyingly original, Virtual Control is the perfect soundtrack for these dark days. 9/10
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