Live At Final Wars by Psychic TV: A Raw, Genre-Bending Journey
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when rock crashes headfirst into electronic experimentation, Live At Final Wars is your answer. Released in 1986 under Transrecords in Japan, this album feels like a fever dream hosted by Genesis P-Orridge and their eclectic crew of collaborators. With genres spanning Electronic and Rock, and styles dipping into Experimental and Acid House, it’s not exactly an easy listen—but that’s kind of the point.
The credits read like a DIY art project gone gloriously off the rails. Genesis P-Orridge handles vocals, congas, violin (yes, really), and more, while Alex Fergusson lays down guitar riffs with sharp precision. Then there’s Mouse on bass AND clarinet—a combo so random it somehow works—and Paula P-Orridge adding layers of percussion that feel both tribal and futuristic. It’s chaotic but intentional, like they’re daring you to keep up.
Two tracks stand out for me: “Godstar” and “Japan Boy.” “Godstar,” written as a tribute to Aleister Crowley, hits hard from the first note. The synths buzz like neon lights flickering in slow motion, while Genesis’ voice cuts through with raw intensity. There’s something hypnotic about how the rhythm shifts unpredictably—it pulls you in even as it pushes boundaries. You don’t just hear “Godstar”; you feel it.
Then there’s “Japan Boy,” which flips the script entirely. It starts off almost playful, with bouncy beats and quirky vocal deliveries, but quickly morphs into something darker and more layered. The interplay between the keys and drums creates this pulsating energy that sticks with you long after the track ends. It’s messy, sure, but in the best possible way—like watching someone paint a masterpiece without caring if they spill a little paint along the way.
What makes Live At Final Wars unforgettable isn’t just its sound—it’s the vibe. This isn’t polished studio perfection; it’s live, unfiltered, and alive. K.K. Null and C.S.V.’s mixing gives it a rough-around-the-edges charm that suits the material perfectly. And let’s not forget Andrew Rawling’s mysterious “Other” contribution—whatever that means, it adds to the sense that this album exists slightly outside reality.
In the end, Live At Final Wars isn’t for everyone. Some might call it pretentious or over-the-top, but I think that misses the point. This album doesn’t care if you “get it”—it’s too busy being itself. Listening to it feels like stumbling into a secret club where the rules are made up on the spot. Honestly? That’s kinda refreshing. Who knew acid house could pair so well with rock? Maybe Psychic TV did all along.
