Body Machine by Priest–Album Review
Body Machine by Priest–Album Review
The costumed musician isn’t a new phenomenon. Music history boasts many, from KISS to the Village People to Slipknot. These artists have all developed a following and enjoyed at least some success. However, it can be argued that several have remained on the fringe, going mostly unnoticed by the average music consumer. Similar could be said of Priest.
Priest is a three-man synth ensemble, hailing from Sweden and fronted by Linton Rubino, a one-time member of the occult rock band Ghost. Until recently Rubino was simply the Puppet Master, the man behind the curtain of Priest. Now the lead vocalist, Rubino dons the collar and answers to Mercury. Rubino’s father and fellow former ghoul Mauro is Salt, one of the band’s bird-masked keyboardists.
Visually, Priest can be described as Satan-adjacent clerics who’ve stepped out of a fetish gear shop and into the world of Blade Runner.
The second is known only as Sulfur, adding to the air of mystery that still surrounds the group. Visually, Priest can be described as Satan-adjacent clerics who’ve stepped out of a fetish gear shop and into the world of Blade Runner. This aesthetic manifests clearly in their lyrics and sound. Priest’s third and latest album, Body Machine, simultaneously holds to this tradition and moves down a darker, more tenacious path.
The album begins with “A Signal in the Noise”, a glimpse into a post-apocalyptic world. Above a metronomic beat, Mercury sings of sanguine skies, an ice-bound heart, and hallowed spaces where hope remains alive. Life may be hard, but if we persist and trust our intuition, a reason to keep moving forward will appear. Next is “Ghost Writer”, the tale of an entity who has conscripted the narrator to help build, by way of writing, an empire. The narrator knows this entity’s secrets yet wants to learn more, asserting both their gift for words and their innocence in the scheme. This story is coupled with synths and sound effects that put in mind the image of a well-oiled machine, creating a danceable, almost hypnotic piece of music.
The album begins with “A Signal in the Noise”, a glimpse into a post-apocalyptic world. Above a metronomic beat, Mercury sings of sanguine skies, an ice-bound heart, and hallowed spaces where hope remains alive. Life may be hard, but if we persist and trust our intuition, a reason to keep moving forward will appear. Next is “Ghost Writer”, the tale of an entity who has conscripted the narrator to help build, by way of writing, an empire. The narrator knows this entity’s secrets yet wants to learn more, asserting both their gift for words and their innocence in the scheme. This story is coupled with synths and sound effects that put in mind the image of a well-oiled machine, creating a danceable, almost hypnotic piece of music.
“Hell Awaits” samples a Kenneth Copeland sermon, utilizes rhyming, and is both an industrial-style calling out of corrupt religious leaders and a non-conformists’ anthem, alluding to the techniques used by these leaders and expressing a belief that life will improve once this power is broken. This song is strikingly similar to the 1990 album Kooler Than Jesus and may be enjoyed by fans of My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult. “Phantom Pain” is dark and melodic, describing a cycle of pain, depression, insanity, sacrifice, and
Body Machine is a quality album showcasing tangible talent.
redemption, all of which are part of the human experience. Depending on the listener’s opinion and tastes, “Blacklisted” could be interpreted as a well-done tribute to or a glaring impersonation of the industrial band Nine Inch Nails, from the lyrics to the vocals to the music itself. Mercury rasps, grunts, and touches on typically Nailsian themes: paranoia, doom, and refusal to adhere to the status quo. It questions the listener, bluntly reminding them that those in power are often threatened by individualism.
The listener is then swept back in time with “Perfect Body Machine”. Here, elements of Herbie Hancock and Murray Head’s “One Night in Bangkok” join forces with a slick account of mechanized sexuality to create an addictive, upbeat, eighties-style dance floor-filler. The song doubles as commentary on humanity’s desire for the ideal lover and the pitfalls that can accompany this search. “Techno Girl” is an ode to the woman of the digital age. The persistent, fast-paced rhythm works with the lyrics to reveal a focused, highly independent femme fatale. Mercury’s expressed desire for her goes beyond the physical and extends to her confidence, an appreciation of female empowerment.
Marisol Correa
The Leatherman arrives in “Crystalline Lace”, the story of a figure who both torments the mind and exists in real-time. The heavy rock of the bassline helps create a suspenseful atmosphere and a song that could fit easily on the soundtrack of a supernatural horror film, possibly one comparable to Halloween, Friday the 13th, or A Nightmare on Elm Street. “Nightcrawler” is a nineties-era night on the town in euphonic form, the pursuit of freedom through illicit substances and sexual experimentation. “Keep on Burning” bounces in to finish the album and send a message to listeners that rising from the ashes is possible and the inner flame is a sacred object worthy of tending.
This armchair music critic is difficult to please but, for the most part, sees Body Machine as a quality album showcasing tangible talent. Will it finally enable Priest to emerge from obscurity and enter the mainstream? For all one knows, perhaps not. The public at large probably isn’t ready to embrace an occult-themed, bondage-clad combo, and the music itself is similar enough to that of other artists that Priest may be viewed by some as a copycat. But upon closer examination, this album is still accessible (and intriguing) enough to appeal to a variety of audiences, which is crucial in growing a fan base… and its retained similarity to past efforts will likely satisfy current admirers as well.
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