It seems funny to recall now the controversy that greeted Remanufacture, especially given that Fear Factory had pulled a similar trick with the Fear Is The Mindkiller EP, yet the backlash was real. Of course, in 1997, the idea of combining the thumping beats of dance and the crushing riffs of metal was still relatively new – the NIN remix albums were too dark to achieve the accessibility of Remanufacture; the genre-bending Spawn OST was some six months off, and even The Prodigy’s chart-baiting The Fat Of The Land was a few months into the future. As such, while various bands were dabbling in hybrid forms, Fear Factory’s dance-floor friendly overhaul of the none-more-crushing Demanufacture was innovative enough to upset metal purists, although there were plenty who found their heads turned by the scope of the remixes, aided in no small amount by the likes of FLA’s Rhys Fulber and Junkie XL. At any event, the band were to wait twenty-five years and eight albums before they would engage in a similar experiment, which is a shame because their crunchy industrial metal has always been particularly well-suited to the remix treatment.
Before we get to the music, we do encounter a slight disappointment in the packaging. Given the quality of the artwork Fear Factory so often deploy, a single folded sheet in a jewel case really isn’t good enough. This is one of those rare occasions where you wonder whether a physical format is really worth the effort (beyond the obvious quality bump over MP3), and it would be good to see the band / label put more effort into future such releases, as this only sends the signal that a remix collection is worth less thought than its parent album. Anyhow, I digress. Packaging issues aside, Recoded is indeed a worthy effort. An eleven-track remix album, featuring a host of collaborators bringing their own distinctive approach to 2021’s Aggression Continuum, it sees the album re-sequenced and reworked to varying effect. As is standard in these cases, levels of interest will largely depend on whether the listener prefers straight-forward dancefloor thumpers or more experiential fare but, with strong source material, the album is able to offer both and the results are mostly excellent companion pieces to the originals.
Following a short into, the simple, cinematic Adapt Or Die we plunge straight into the mechanistic Hatred Will Prevail, which sees Monolith given a hefty, dancefloor makeover by long-time collaborator Rhys Fulber. While it may not eclipse the original, Rhys adds a pumping low end, simultaneously clearing away some of the noise to bring the melody of the chorus very much to the fore. Similarly, obvious single choice Disobey (Disruptor, remixed here by Venezuelan DJ Zardonic) has a strong dance-floor pulse, and you can imagine the local rock club packing out to this streamlined, addictive song. With both Dualized and Zardonic working on the Mad Max-esque I Am The Nightrider (Fuel Injected Suicide Machine), the track takes on a dystopian, Ministry vibe, with Burton’s harsh vocal glitching over a gleaming, James Cameron-infused backdrop and it is all the more effective for it. Stepping away from the more straightforward remix treatment meted out to the first few tracks, Rhys Fulber takes Purify, reworking it as Path To Salvation, with a queasy groove that sits somewhere between NIN’s Closer and the damaged remixes of The Fragile, making it one of the more experimental offerings here. It’s followed by another Zardonic reworking, who tackles End Of The Line (rebranded here as Worthless), and sends it spinning off into unexpected territory somewhere between Depeche Mode’s danceable darkness and the heavy pop of Bring Me The Horizon circa Amo. Far less successful than the other tracks on offer, it feels a little too much like a push towards the mainstream, and it neuters both the atmosphere and emotion of Burton’s original vocal.
Reworked by Tyrant of Death (Canadian industrial artist Alex Rise), Collapse has become Empires Fall, a harrowing overhaul that, if anything, is darker and more sinister than the track upon which it is based. It sets the pace for a second half that seeks to explore the harder edges of Aggression Continuum, and for those left cold by the neon-lights of the first half, there’s plenty to dig into here, such as the title track, rebranded as System Assassin by Rhys Fulber. A relentless melee of palm-muted riffs and industrial strength beats, it batters the listener, although a melodic chorus serves to add a touch of gothic atmosphere to proceedings. It’s followed by Rob GEE’s take on Manufactures (Hypocrisy Of Faith), which is stripped down to its nitrous-powered engine, its relentless beats and synth stabs reminiscent of The Prodigy’s Omen. Zardonic returns to tackle Cognitive Dissonance, listed here as This Is My Life, adding some tasteful industrial flourishes that drive the piece even further into sci-fi-nightmare territory before Blush_response tackle Recoded, bringing the album to an end on an eerie, cinematic note awash with references to the band’s beloved Dune.
Aggression Continuum was an exceptionally strong outing for Fear Factory, drawing together all the rage and frustration of modernity and packing it into an album that managed to mix both melody and might with no small amount of skill. While Recoded is not, perhaps, an essential companion piece, for those who like to explore the more technological edges of the band’s sound, it is a worthy one and the remixes on offer are largely successful. The first half focuses more on the dancefloor, with Disobey proving to be the standout piece in this regard. The second half of the album, meanwhile, is darker and heavier, with the focus more on industrial noise and crushing riffs. The results will likely not please everyone all of the time, but it is interesting to revisit a strong album from a different series of angles. 8/10
