Maybe it’s because we no longer live in a world where everybody from Danzig to Limp Bizkit is actively ripping off Ministry’s signature clang, but this record sounds fresh and invigorating, like thrash-metal riffs and chopped political samples are some wild new thing.
Hopium is an almost surgical-precision suture of Psalm 9’s power-saw dynamics and Twitch’s electro-groove. There are even a few pleasant B-side curve balls, like the Thrill Kill Kult-ish disco-sleaze of Cult Of Suffering or the synth-pop flashback of Ricky’s Hand.
I don’t know how a goddamn senior citizen who opened his auto-bio with a story about shitting a gallon of blood into an old army helmet is even alive, never mind capable of making a record with this kind of kinetic teenage energy, but that’s the magic of rock’n’roll, man.
This is Ministry’s best record since we were all young and good-looking.
