With guitarist/keyboardist and / veteran on guitar added to the ranks, along with guest appearances from old member , reached 1988 with their strongest album yet, the insanely powerful, gripping . Rather than simply redoing what they'd already done, and company took their striking musical fusions to deeper and higher levels all around, with fantastic consequences. The album boldly starts out with an undisputed masterpiece -- a chilling self-portrait of a prisoner about to be executed that compares the electric chair with the throne of God. Queasy strings from a -led trio and 's spectral piano snake through a rising roar of electric sound -- a common musical approach from many earlier songs, but never so gut-wrenching as here. 's own performance is the perfect icing on the cake, commanding and powerful, excellently capturing the blend of crazed fear and righteousness in the lyrics. Matching that high point turns out to be impossible for anything else on , but more than enough highlights take a bow that demonstrates the album's general quality. is another great blast from , a -style rave-up that lyrically is everything tried to be, but failed at -- killing sprees, Cadillacs, and carrying out the work of the Lord, however atypically. The echoing, gentle-yet-rough sonics on the -inspired and the gentler drama of also do well in keeping the energy level up. On the quieter side, indulges his penchant for gloomy piano-led throughout, and quite well at that, with such songs as and the end-of-the-evening singalong has a beautifully brooding feeling to it thanks to the combination of acoustic guitar and piano, making it a bit of a cousin of 's ~ Ned Raggett