G.B.H. — From Here To Reality (review)

G.B.H. — From Here To Reality album cover

Album · 1990 · Crossover Thrash

1.5/5 · 2018-04-09
Vim Fuego

The Ramones had a formula of a 4-count + 3 chords + 2 minutes = 1 song. AC/DC had a formula of a simple drum beat, a simple bass line, a “why the fuck didn’t I think of that?” riff from Malcolm, a dirty double entendre from Bon or Brian, and a flash of guitar brilliance and hairy white arse from Angus, and voila! A song!

GBH had a formula which served them well through much of the 80s. A UK82 riff (sorry, that was kinda obvious...), a breakneck bassline, simple, speedy drums, and angry vocals and lyrics straight from the violent streets of Birmingham. It was rough, tough music for difficult times, and it produced such classic albums as the band’s seminal debut “City Baby Attacked By Rats”, “City Baby’s Revenge”, and “A Fridge Too Far”.

By 1990 though, the formula was starting to sound a bit tired. There are only a certain number of ways to put the same few chords together. The musical landscape had shifted somewhat too. Punk had been buried in a tidal wave of thrash metal. The thrash bands stole hardcore’s speed and abrasiveness, and added tighter musicianship to it. GBH was hugely influential on a lot of those metal bands. Quorthon for example said GBH, not Venom, had been the biggest influence on early Bathory. GBH’s peers either split up, like Discharge, Amebix, and The Varukers, or adapted and took on some metal elements, like The Exploited.

GBH took the metal route. Unfortunately, it didn’t fare too well. The result is “From Here To Reality”, which in all honesty, is not a very good album. There are plenty of bootboys out there who will tell you otherwise, but compare it to those early classics, and this is really an anaemic version of the band which blasted out early 80s classics like “Sick Boy” and “No Survivors”.

These guys sound like they’re going through the motions. All the elements are still there, with the piledriver drums, the hard-driving bass, and Colin Abrahall’s snotty, tough vocals, but guitarist Jock seemed to be struggling with how to put together metal riffs.

The album gets off to a somewhat limp start with “New Decade”. Heavy, fast, spiky sounding, but still limp. It’s an odd effect.

“Trust Me I’m A Doctor” has a memorable shout-along chorus, and a damn good main riff reminiscent of the good old days, but there’s something wrong when it’s still the most memorable thing about the album 8 songs later. It’s a hard listen, because it’s something which you so much want to like, but it sounds lost, and disconnected from where it should be. Unremarkable songs like “Mass Production” and “The Old School of Self-Destruction” buzz past, leaving little impression.

“Destroy” sounds like a return to form, which is all well and good, but it’s a Vibrators cover. “Just in Time for the Epilogue” might well be better titled “Just in Time For The Epitaph”, when all of a sudden, the band pulls something right out of left field, and just about redeems a dog of an album. Just about..

“Moonshine” is one of the loosest, laid back tragi-comic slices of cowpunk you’ll ever come across. Yup. These boys from Birmingham have a go at cuntry music… It is just so unexpected, fun, funny, and out of character. It’s like a cross between country rock comedian Mojo Nixon and Social Distortion. It has a yobbo chorus, lyrics about incest and prison rape, slide guitars which just about slide off the record, and a cheeky, sharp sense of fun.

Luckily, GBH were able to revive their career after this album, which was just a bit of a detour down a dead end alley. It’s not great in any way, “Moonshine” excepted. It’s a bargain bin purchase at best, and then only if it’s really cheap.