Shirley sums mistakes…

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Alfred Soto: Between Liz Phair, Wolf Alice, and Japanese Breakfast, it’s been a strong two weeks for strong women making loud-as-shit music with cool sounds. “No Gods No Masters” plows no new ground, nor should it: it serves as a reminder that Garbage still care about sonic gewgaws and well-mixed drums. Compared to the rest of the album (spoiler!), it’s a bit of okay. 
[6]

Katherine St Asaph: On my dream Internet content list: another Y2K Aesthetic Institute, except instead for every micro-genre of moody, tech-y turn-of-the-century digital imagery, for every micro-genre of moody, tech-y turn-of-the-century alt-rock. Garbage, if they didn’t quite invent several of those genres (there’s probably still at least one Curve superstan around who’d object), certainly exemplified them. And “No Gods No Masters” could practically define its own, alongside stuff like Republica’s “Out of the Darkness” or Dollshead’s “New Creation.” They’re songs that don’t sound like rock or (to not be anachronistic) “electronica” so much as running, specifically Run Lola Running. The hooks are as sticky as their delivery is coolly world-weary. One imagines — and music video directors usually did imagine — them soundtracking the kind of cyberpunk dystopia envisioned for teen mags, with heroines who battle contemporary ills vague enough (here, “nothing lasts and no one stays”) that a listener could easily substitute whatever grudges or flailing-but-determined self-assurance she needs to power through, do that and run.
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Claire Biddles: Nice pre-chorus and glimmering guitar at the start, but this synth-rock is a little too sanitised for my tastes. The over-simplified translation of a Big Political Statement crossed with ultra-polished production reminds me of Manic Street Preachers’ least interesting later work — a twist to dirty it up would have been welcome.
[5]

Edward Okulicz: Shirley Manson’s politics are that of a good lefty Scot, and she’s voiced them pretty loudly for the last 25 years. But I don’t think she’s especially good at breaking her thoughts down into words that fit into a song. “No Gods No Masters” is lyrical mush, and it doesn’t feel like each part is about the same subject. I also feel the same way about the music, with the verses having some nice urgency and the chorus making a decent attempt at being anthemic, and then this weird, incongruous, almost ethereal section in the middle. In all, taken as tuneful, surging mush, it’s a pleasant and diverting muddle in a space that’s not what they do best, but you can tune the politics out, and even if you don’t it’s not embarrassing.
[6]

Vikram Joseph: This is serviceable enough, driven by slick synths and an affable motorik beat; it was apparently inspired by the Chilean protests, a fact which is entirely indiscernible from the lyrics. Fair play to them for continuing to exist — there can’t be many who believed they’d have a career spanning four decades — but shorn of the quiet menace and mystique they projected in the ’90s, Garbage are a fairly nondescript band, and “No Gods No Masters” is just a little bit boring.
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Tim de Reuse: Respectable kraut-pop momentum, but the impact is blunted by jarringly dry production. The bassline, even at its most frenetic, sounds like something coming out of a Sega Genesis; the distorted guitar tone is best described as “sandy;” the high, over-produced snap of the snare drum spikes through it all. Perhaps the first time ever I’ve listened to guitar music released in the 21st century and wished they’d put more reverb on it.
[5]

Juana Giaimo: In “No Gods No Masters”, Shirley Manson sings about making the same mistakes over and over again with a sense of pride. The guitar distortion is noisy, the beat is loud and fast and some synth noises appear out of nowhere. There is truly a lot happening in the song, but her tone is always calm: she owns her mistakes and the melody too.
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