Bad Religion
Against The Grain

THE REVIEW

Premise: I am certainly not the right person to talk about the album in question, but I want to because I like it. Despite the genre not being exactly among my favorites, it holds significant sentimental value (we’re talking about '90, I was a kid eager for novelties and rebellions) and it's objectively one of the most important albums in the American Hardcore scene, so I find it unfair that it hasn’t been reviewed here on DeB yet (there is one to be honest, but it's no longer available...); therefore, if genre enthusiasts find my writing inappropriate, I authorize them to insult me but also to ask themselves whether that day, instead of giving the eleventh 1 to a duplicate, it wouldn’t have been better to jot down a few lines... (Just kidding, of course, but not too much...)

Bad Religion are a bit snubbed on these pages and none of the reviews present is abundant with biographical notes, in this regard, I send you to this page on OndaRock which, for once, is well done.

Formalities aside, let’s get to the album: “Against the Grain” is a work that should be evaluated according to two mindsets. On one hand, the proximity to “No Control” (1989, an album considered by many as their masterpiece) is strongly felt. The early signs of a “civilization” of the Gurewitz and Graffin’s band often come to light, albeit only as rapid sprouts, more conceptual than sonic.

But don't misunderstand me: this album is still proudly hardcore (just by looking at the booklet, one can understand: the number of songs/total duration ratio which is 17 for just under 35 minutes is emblematic) even if on the horizon, a greater awareness of the band towards a more formal way of conceiving their music can be perceived. I don't want to use the term mature because it would be intellectually presumptuous, and you know how much Humility matters to me: second only to Elegance in my personal value scale, and perhaps this is the definition, even though I can already see the horrified faces of the genre purists, that best suits the evolution of the Los Angeles band.

An Elegance so manifest, even amidst the noise, that makes the fast rhythmic outbursts of the 5 (there were 5 of them here, right?) appear as storms formed more from existentialism than rebellion: a realization that dialogue is better than barricades? We will never know, but the impression remains.

As difficult as it may be to believe, I continue to think that it is this album, and not the previous one, that forms the basis of the subsequent works of a group that has never been below decent levels; albums like “Generator” (’92) or “The Gray Race” (’96) are there to support my hypothesis.

Explosive yet controlled, as if there were an attempt to calm their own fury, the tracks offer real gems like the epic “Modern Man,” the gloomy “Faith Alone,” and the masterpiece of the album, that “Flat Earth Society,” a true mixture of youthful anger (pardon the overused term) and fascinating programmatic approach (is that a word?) in managing it.

Speed and Power articulated and measured in equal parts that make, in my opinion, Bad Religion the true boundary between American Metal and Punk, between the violent reminiscences of the former and the existential disorders of the latter, all executed with notable technical skills, a distant gaze: into their past but straight into the future.

Mo.