Cleopatra Records – 30th October 2026
Christopher Nosnibor
It’s hard to process the fact that at this moment in time, we are as far from 1985 and 1985 as from the end of the second world war. Similarly, it’s true that what might be considered ‘late-era’ Ministry has been in existence for longer than what one could call their main career. It’s been an interesting journey, from a largely forgettable synth-pop debut in ‘83, through a hardening sound as showcased on Twitch three years later, before things got really interesting and properly ugly with third album, The Land of Rape and Honey in 1988. Psalm 69 blasted them from being a cult act to a global force, arguably the definitive industrial metal act. They were on MTV with videos featuring William S. Burroughs. Although Filth Pig charted higher in many territories, and was a particularly, dark, heavy, and bleak affair, it was not a big seller, and everything since has been a case of diminishing returns, and not just in commercial terms. Not that they’ve ever been a particularly commercial band, despite major-label backing for some twenty years.
And while it’s true that Al Jourgensen has become increasingly fixated on blasting successive US presidents and their governments – particularly the Republican ones – one has to give credit where it’s due. It’s a worthy mission, and there’s a fair chance that he’d have called it a day sooner if he’d not had so much to rage about. He called it a day in 2013, only to return five years later with Donald Trump firmly in his sights in place of George W. Bush. The Bush years felt like an all-time low in US politics at the time…
And now we find the world at war, half the world on fire and the other half flooded, and wake up each morning wondering if it’s actually still here or if AI has ended it while we’ve been asleep. Small wonder Jourgensen had to have one last word on the state of everything. Sadly, it seems they’ve gone down the AI route for the videos, which is disappointing, particularly given the political context.
Singles ‘We Hate’ and ‘Singularity’ were promising enough: on the one hand, fairly standard fare for later-era Ministry in sonic and stylistic terms, but solid in terms of quality, and the album goes straight in heavy with ‘Crickets’. The guitars border on nu-metal, hitting like slabs of concrete, but the distorted vocals, samples, and driving percussion, all represent the Ministry hallmarks that go all the way back to songs like ‘Thieves’ – only here, there’s stab at a huge anthemic chorus. ‘Voices of Hate’ in many ways reprises ‘Hero’ from Psalm 69, with the speed metal thrash of Mötörhead, and while it’s solid enough, it feels rather predictable. This could serve as a summary for much of the album. It sounds like a Ministry album. Sludgy, metallic guitars grind away against relentless percussion, and there are samples galore. In fact, the samples take precedence over the vocals for the most part, and much of the supposed ‘commentary’ is represented by soundbite snippets of newscasts and the like.
AA
While sampling exploded in the early 80s with the likes of Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire being early adopters of emerging technologies which facilitated (affordable) tape loops and the like, and hop-hop acts quickly took up and ran with it, it wasn’t until the late 80s and early 90s that samples became commonplace in a rock or metal context, and Ministry were at the forefront there. Thirty years (and more) on, it feels formulaic. ‘Delete’ starts out sounding like it might take a more experimental direction, but ultimately reprises parts of the backing for ‘TV Song’ before presenting a collage of samples against a dirty, low-slung-riff. The vocals are blazing with rage, but only partially intelligible. ‘We Hate’ adds a dash of glam to the chugging wall of grey fury, but not a lot else. The same is true of CD-only bonus cut ‘The White Man Lied’: it’s got some glammy swing and quite some groove behind it.
The six-and-a-half-minute ‘Grifter’ slows the pace and marks a welcome textural shift, too. It’s by no means one of Ministry’s best cuts, but its placement in the middle of the album makes it stands out, and there are Trump samples galore. All well and good, but snippets of Trump’s worst moments are added to social media on a daily basic. Every press conference, every rally, every post on ‘Truth’ social gives us more insane babble from his rapidly unravelling sociopathic narcissistic mind. Do we really need to hear any more of this demented shit? Maybe we do: the media has normalised his cracked rambling. And what Ministry do here is remind us that this is insane. And it IS insane. How the fuck have we reached this point where a dribbling, shitting, dementia-ridden dictator is the most powerful person on the planet? I say person, but at this point, he’s slipped beneath even being human. And still his supporters clap like seals at his every vapid statement, and proponents of the far right here in the UK lap up his endless shit and proclaim that following his lead is the way forward. The worst of it is that most of us don’t only feel powerless, but we are powerless when it comes to turning the tide, because we’re battling against billionaires and bots – funded by the billionaires. AI manipulation is rife, and we’re all fucked.
Someone I’m ‘friends’ with on Facebook spent a good few months posting AI images of herself and band they like, before announcing that they’d been made redundant, their job having been replaced by AI. Fast forward a few weeks, and they tell the world how, after searching and applying for new jobs with no success, they’re using AI to search for and apply for jobs for them. And this is where we’re at. No wonder Jourgensen felt the need to unleash another salvo of blasting fury at the world. Hate To Go is by no means the best Ministry album, or even an album that sounds like a definitive sign-off. It sounds more like a work of business as usual. But perhaps that’s to miss the point – or it is the point. What I’m trying to say is that while Hate To Go is the band’s official last statement, it’s one which shows an understanding that their work will never be done as long as capitalism reigns – a sentiment articulated on ‘Singularity’. This track seems to summarise the album’s purpose – to document the end of times, to place a marker in history where Al and co can say ‘we told you so, and we give u-p telling you now’.
Penultimate track ‘Burned Out’ is one of the album’s strongest, a driving nihilistic assault that finally sees Ministry hitting the mark in brutal fashion and harking back to Filth Pig.
Closer ‘We’re Still Here’ features Paul Barker, and with its electro-driven intro also represents a late return to form as well as an unexpected expansion on the usual sound, unleashing a choir for the finale. I’m not sure I love it, but credit due for a late left-turn.
So where does this leave us? Who knows? Is this even the final final album by Ministry? Maybe we should ask this again in another five years. In the scheme of the Ministry oeuvre, Hate To Go is nothing special, and in many ways adds little to their corpus. But at the same time, it feels like an album that had to be made.
