Post-punk survivors Killing Joke are back, writes TIM HUGHES, and better than ever.

FOR 30 years Killing Joke have stood alone, watching their contemporaries stumble, while they rage on, expounding their dark, powerful message.

Emerging from the post-punk era, they have remained harsh, hard and heavy, adopting synth-rock and electronica, yet remaining uncommercial.

Legions of rock, goth and metal bands owe a debt to the West London industrial-rockers – among them Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Faith No More, Metallica and, especially, Nirvana and Foo Fighters – with Dave Grohl having joined them on drums.

“Killing Joke has always been an heroic endeavour, philosophically,” says bassist Martin ‘Youth’ Glover, who was part of the original line-up, along with classically-trained musician and vocalist Jeremy ‘Jaz’ Coleman, drummer ‘Big’ Paul Ferguson and guitarist Kevin ‘Geordie’ Walker.

“It’s been misconceived in the past as some doom-laden, apocalyptic thing, but I’ve never really been down with that. We’re actually a folk group, singing about relevant issues that apply to us, our environment and our emotions.

“There’s no purpose in pointing a finger unless you’re going to provide a solution,” he goes on.

“Killing Joke is an empowering experience for the listener, where they can regain their sovereignty and regain their humanity through going to a gig or relating to and identifying with the lyrics. That’s my ambition. That’s what I think all great art or music does. It’s a noble cavalry charge!”

Never quite punk, but not metal either, Killing Joke temper their aggression – and Coleman’s growled vocals – with epic grandeur. Their fascination with the occult, nuclear apocalypse, and provocative politics have marked them out as individualists.

A cult act to their loyal fans, the band’s often-harsh sound and extreme imagery have not endeared them to everybody.

The band’s history reads like a Russian novel – complex and convoluted, with a revolving cast of characters, break-ups, triumphs and tragedy. Yet, they made some of the most creative music of the ‘80s and ‘90s – a world apart from the shallow and predictable mainstream acts of the day.

The present line-up dates back only three years; the original members meeting at the funeral of late bassist Paul Raven, who had replaced Youth in 1982. Yet they have succeeded in recording an album which sits alongside their best ever work.

Called, fittingly, 2012, it is a tribute to Raven, who had left the turbulent band after its short-lived break-up. He died of a heart attack in his sleep before he and his old band mates had an opportunity to make-up.

“Raven was well on the way to kissing and making up with us and going on the next potential tour, but of course that didn’t transpire,” says Coleman.

“The reunion was coming closer over time, though, and we have Raven to thank for pushing it together.”

The subsequent tour brought the original band together for the first time in decades. Then came the album.

“It was very exciting and we were very prolific,” says Coleman, who is also a respected orchestral composer and conductor.

“We all smashed together gloriously, as we always do. We’re all thrilled to bits.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else around that does it like us.”

The bone-crunching result is the most important thing they’ve done for years. Youth describes it as a work of “cold austerity versus wild abandon”.

He adds: “As we’ve got older, we’ve become more relevant, because the world’s moved closer to the way we see it than when we were there first time and considered extremists.

“Now events have shown that we weren’t paranoid or extreme; we were just being honest.

“The great achievement of this album is how we’ve got four totally disparate, diverse, strongly-opinionated points of view to completely harmonise as one uncompromised expression.

“That’s always the challenge for great groups. But we’re honest to ourselves in what we’re doing. The work should speak for itself and it really does.”

“I feel really privileged,” says Coleman.

“For me, being in Killing Joke is as big an honour as being decorated by France for my work in classical music. It’s lifelong. While Geordie’s in the world and I’m in the world, we want to increase the pace and keep putting out more music, and we have the resolve to do it.

“There are these apparent rumours that it’s the last one, and if a London bus runs me down, then possibly, but not yet!

“It’s always traumatic recording with Killing Joke, especially with this line-up, but then we just want to do it again!”

* Killing Joke play the Oxford 02 Academy on Saturday. Tickets are £19.50 from ticketweb.co.uk Support comes from the Icarus Line and The Crying Spell.