Unbroken Life. Love. Regret. - 30th Anniversary Edition
- Format
12 Inch Double
Neon Green
£32.00
‘If it was real progression, greed would not dictate our souls, If it was real progression, we’d give back what we stole, If it was real progression, we’d burn these lies all down’ (In The Name Of Progression)
San Diego’s Unbroken were originally active between 1991 and 1995, and since reforming for a memorial show for guitarist Eric Allen in 1998, the band have made periodic returns to the live arena. A year after the release of their debut album, Ritual, Unbroken returned to the studio to record 1994’s Life. Love. Regret. While the band’s sound was one that continually evolved and reformulated itself around its central tenets, this record is for many the band’s definitive statement.
From the moment that the darkly ominous opening riff to D4 unfurls, the intensity never dims. The riffage still bristles, but feels more muscular, the haunting melodicism that flared throughout Ritual is now riven through the music, and the vocals remain raw, impassioned as they explore both our society’s distorted socio-economic drivers and more personal reflections of emotional isolation. Defining moments abound. The spoken word interlude of In The Name Of Progress before the cathartic climax, the menacing melody that fashions the utterly ferocious Razor, the swinging bass line that propels Final Expression, the stomping aggression of Blanket with its frantic mantra of ‘It won’t save you’, the fraught, intense, almost brittle, closer Curtain.
Indecision Records have pulled together a special edition to celebrate the 30th anniversary of this seminal album. The first 12-inch is, of course, the album itself. The second is a live recording of Unbroken’s full set at Indecision 30, the 2023 festival to celebrate the label’s own longevity. Now, recording a live hardcore show is inherently challenging – how do you accurately capture the sheer energy, the coming together of band and audience in common purpose? Yet, this recording vibrantly succeeds in capturing the texture of the show.
The sound is raw, without losing the integrity of the songs themselves, the vocals straining and impassioned. The between song chat, the surges of recognition coursing through the crowd as each track opens, and the bellowed audience participation vividly evoke the positivity in the room. You can literally envisage in your mind’s eye the utter chaos as the show progresses – the mic-grabs, pile-ons, and flying stage dives seem to be physically woven into the soundtrack. A thoroughly worthwhile addition to the Unbroken canon.