Testament took sizeable creative steps on their second album but lost none of the power that had made their début so damn good. It's a prime example of the kind of heavy, melodic thrash that was doing the rounds back then, but there was more mediocre thrash bands in the late 80s than Disney had stereotypes, and while the output from many of them sounded like little more than surplus variations on a theme, Testament had Chuck Billy and that made all the difference. So what if it had an Aerosmith cover? They somehow made it work in their favour.
A concept album with a hugely ambitious scope that enables Waters to comment on the entirety of mankind’s accomplishments and follies, as viewed from more than one unique perspective. Musically it performs a similar function in relation to his illustrious career that fans of his input into Pink Floyd should appreciate on a deeper level. But it’s not just Floyd 2.0, it’s the poet and musician being intellectually engaging and musically diverse, reaching further afield than ever before into what it is that makes us human. I'm not ashamed to say that a part of it makes me tearful, and that’s the highest praise I can conceivably give.
If you imagine the Godflesh discography as a curved line, sound-wise the first EP from the reformed duo is a branch that splits off after Streetcleaner (1989) and intersects the curve again somewhere between Selfless (1994) and Songs of Love and Hate (1996). But you don't just have to deal in abstractions, check out the link below to get an understanding of what I mean. It's not a reinvention, thankfully, it's a reinvigoration and a tight return to the days of crunching, lo-fi heaviness.