It’s a mere matter of months since ‘host’ appeared in remastered form but, where that album was in little need of sonic enhancement, ‘believe in nothing’ is an album with which the band themselves were never happy and so there seems to be good reason to look carefully at this reissue. Freshly remixed by Jamie Gomez Arellano and gaining a pair of additional tracks in the process, ‘believe in nothing’ has also gained reassessed the artwork, the gaudy colours of the original replaced with a stark black and white image that seems to far more accurately represent the dark, electronic-infused metal that lies within. The whole thing is packaged in a handsome digi-pack and the only thing missing is detailed liner notes which would have done much to set the context for this much-underrated album.
It seems odd now to recall the ructions that ‘Host’ (and to some extent ‘one second’) caused amidst the band’s fanbase. Nonetheless, for fans who had followed the band through the progressions from the dry-ice and deathly hallows of ‘gothic’ through to the Metallica-aping ‘Draconian Times’, the pared-back electronica was simply too much, too soon, with ‘Host’ in particular on the receiving end of some unnecessarily vituperative opprobrium. Wounded, it was to be two years before the band returned with ‘believe in nothing’, an album that did much to balance the electronic elements of ‘host’ with rather more metallic fervour and, although it was destined to be somewhat unappreciated at the time (something not helped by Gerhard Wafle’s dry production), the album has grown in stature, thanks in large part to a number of tracks appearing in the band’s live set over the years.
From the moment that the skittering electronic beat of ‘I am nothing’ emerges, it’s clear that considerable changes have taken place. The treble levels have been boosted considerably, bringing out the cymbals to a far greater extent. The low-end also fares well, sounding more natural, and the track certainly feels grander than its previous, somewhat muted, incarnation. With hitherto ephemeral guitar lines given greater prominence in the mix, it feels as if the dirt has been scraped from the surface of a familiar painting to reveal colours that are far brighter than you had ever imagined, and it takes some getting used to. The energetic ‘mouth’ remains an album highlight, the guitars raging away with more force than remembered but ‘fader’, a rich, emotional track suffers from the synth orchestra being bought too much to the fore, detracting from its power as was only ever intended to add depth to the song, rather than take the lead. In contrast, ‘look at me now’, a cracking song live, gains additional punch as the band execute neat shifts between verse and chorus. Other changes reap greater rewards. The shimmering lead of ‘illumination’ cuts through the mix and the touch of echo on Nick’s voice fits the haunting atmosphere of the track nicely, whilst the pummelling ‘something real’ also edges closer to its live incarnation than previously, underscoring the disconnect between the original mix and the band’s intentions.
The Depeche Mode-style electronica of ‘host’ is most apparent on the subtle ‘divided’ and, once again, the remix has bought the electronic elements to the fore, edging the track even closer to its preceding album. Here, the boost given to the orchestration is incredibly effective, giving greater emotional weight to the piece and helping to emerge as a hitherto unnoticed highlight. With the choral samples that introduce the track now much louder, ‘sell it to the world’ sounds heavier than ever, the track benefitting greatly from the beefier production as the bass rumbles in the darkest recesses of your mind. Equally, the Cure-esque ‘never again’ highlights the fact that Paradise Lost were in no hurry to escape the electronic blueprint laid down with ‘one second’ despite subsequent claims to the contrary (most notably from Nick, who would famously declare that the band had little idea of what they were doing throughout this period). In contrast, ‘control’, always the album’s weakest track, benefits little from the remix process, although the guitars are given something of a boost. The rolling thunder of ‘no reason’ is unleashed with real metallic zeal whilst the final song, ‘world pretending’, is arguably the closest the band had come to anything from ‘Draconian Times’ since that album’s release. A suitably atmospheric closer, Jamie’s remix work gives it the weight that was always implicit in the song.
Of the two bonus tracks, ‘gone’ is one of Paradise Lost’s bleakest offerings from the period, Nick intoning over a simple guitar line, with even the heavy passages feeling intentionally muted and bereft of colour or hope. Even the strings that emerge as the track progresses do little to sweeten the pill, and the track has a Joy Division feel to it that fits perfectly with the darker moments of ‘believe in nothing’. Less bleak, the skittering beat of ‘leave this alone’ feels like a dry run for ‘I am nothing’, but the guitar tone is weak here and the chorus lacks the bite of the album’s justly feted opening track. Not essential, perhaps, but the bonus tracks do complete the story of the period and add value to an already impressive package.
‘Believe in nothing’ was always an underrated album, albeit with the tension between the metallic and electronic elements palpable and a less than stellar production hampering the overall flow for which the band were aiming. This version improves matters in many ways, cleaving closer to the band’s original intentions overall and giving the heavier elements considerably more bite. It is an album ripe for reassessment, and the remix does much to draw out the notion that ‘believe in nothing’ was an opportunity for the band to embrace their heavier past whilst continuing to explore the more emotive material of their mid-period with aplomb, and it’s easy to see why the band would consider this the definitive version of an album long-unappreciated. 8
