The Golden Age of Bloodsports

by Phil Barrington

A Book of Jhonn Balance’s words by Phil Barrington.

367 pages, Unknown Binding

Published November 13, 2014

Reviews

[Fiadh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Balance was beyond gifted, beyond human - or, intensely human. In his collected works, his themes of death and the macabre shift from a wondrous landscape to explore in his artwork to the darkness associated with them becoming a source of lived fatigue. The earlier parts illustrate this with his works ‘Truth’ (showing his interest in Charles Manson, much like others in the pre-industrial scene he found himself in at the time), ‘Burn Time Dry’ (a look at Balance’s perspective of time, the trudging imagery juxtaposed over quick rhyme and repetition gives great insight into the dual nature of time. 'Next time is always the last time/Next time is always going to be/What had been going on'.), ‘The Colossus of Rhodes’, and ‘The Gilded Age’, all containing dark but lush imagery dappled amongst his passionate essays and writings on his beloved Austin Osman Spare and William S. Burroughs. But as time (for us, anyway) progressed throughout Balance’s life, things take a notable shift as he begins to recognize his inevitable death, most notably in ‘Sex With Sun Ra’ (most accidents occur at home, or at Harry Smith's hotel room. An allusion to John dying at home under the influence of alcohol?), his changed lyrics during an interpretation of ‘Tattooed Man’ (‘This is the dark age of love’/'This is the dark age of drug'), and, most directly in ‘Who’ll Fall?’ where he discusses a potential demise involving falling to his death. Fear of his death eventually culminates in an accepting sorrow in ‘Tunnel of Goats and Constant Shallowness Leads To Evil’ (speaking on how life has no commitment to sustaining itself. Timely for the point John was at, it is sincerely about himself, about his exhaustion) and ‘Where Are You?’ (a caring reflection on himself, confronting his addiction and the reasonings for it). This gives The Golden Age of Bloodsports a steady tonal descent throughout that makes its untimely cut-off all the more morose.