Psychotic Machine by Loudspeaker: A Raging Sonic Assault That Still Kicks Ass
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—Psychotic Machine isn’t your typical 80s rock album. Released in ‘87 under One Little Indian (yeah, the same label that later gave us Björk), this German/UK hybrid is a chaotic mix of Industrial grit, Experimental weirdness, and Alternative Rock punch. It's like someone threw Punk, Pop/Rock, and Electronic into a blender and hit "puree." And honestly? It fucking works.
First off, shoutout to the credits because they’re wild as hell. You’ve got Martin Wilson smashing drums like he’s trying to break them, Bonjo I adding layers of percussion chaos, and Christopher Faith + Matt Borruso bringing some next-level madness on performance duties. Oh, and Loudspeaker themselves wrote all the tracks, which makes sense since no one else could’ve come up with something this unhinged.
Now, onto the meat of it—the songs. Let’s talk about “Living With The Dead”, or should I say songs, plural, because for some reason there are TWO versions back-to-back. What the actual fuck? But here’s the kicker—it doesn’t feel repetitive. The first version slams you over the head with these jagged guitar riffs and pounding rhythms, while the second takes things darker, more atmospheric, almost like an industrial nightmare creeping up behind you. By the time both tracks finish, you're left wondering if you just survived a haunted house ride at an abandoned carnival. It sticks with you—not just because it’s good, but because it feels dangerous. Like, “I shouldn’t be listening to this” kind of vibe.
Then there’s the title track, “Psychotic Machine.” Holy shit, where do I even start? This song is pure aggression bottled up and shaken until it explodes. The opening synths sound like malfunctioning robots having a meltdown, and when the vocals kick in, it’s like hearing someone scream from inside their own brain prison. It’s catchy as hell though—not in a sing-along way, but in a “you can’t stop nodding your head even if you tried” way. Every beat hits hard, every note feels intentional yet completely out of control. It’s exhausting and exhilarating all at once, and honestly, I love it.
So yeah, Psychotic Machine isn’t perfect. Some parts feel messy, others overly ambitious. But who cares? This album doesn’t aim for perfection; it aims for impact. And holy crap, does it deliver. Listening to it now feels like stepping into a time machine that spits you out into a dystopian future where music has gone rogue.
And hey, fun fact—if you ever meet someone who says they were into experimental rock in the late '80s, ask them about this album. If they know it, odds are they’ve got stories worth hearing. If not, well… maybe introduce them. Just don’t expect polite conversation after—they’ll either hate it or become obsessed. Either way, mission accomplished.
Final thought: Who knew a bunch of dudes from Germany and the UK could make such gloriously messed-up noise? Not me, but damn, I’m glad they did. Now excuse me while I go listen to “Living With The Dead” again… both versions.
