Napalm Death
From Enslavement To Obliteration

THE REVIEW

"Scum", as we know, is now history, a work that shines more for its conceptual significance than for its intrinsic content, a work that, for better or worse, marked a point of rupture and no return in the history of music as a whole. Because it's not just a milestone in grindcore, but something that assumes a broader significance, as a redefinition of the concept of Extreme and a reflection on the concept of Limit—so much so that it transcends the narrow confines of metal and exerts an influence on the entire musical landscape, reaching unsuspected terrains such as free-jazz and avant-garde music in general (the devastating Naked City by John Zorn or the Fantomas by Mike Patton are just the most striking examples).

However, if "Scum" has the advantage of playing on the surprise effect and, to be strict, appearing as a provocation for its own sake or a well-executed prank by brilliant high schoolers, "From Enslavement to Obliteration" is truly terrifying, because it's clear that Napalm Death is not kidding at all. With this album, the insights of its predecessor become actual standards, and grindcore rises as a genre, a feat not as predictable as it seems.

If a musical genre, in fact, builds its identity and raison d'être on the act of edging towards the Limit, it is obvious that stylistic maneuverability becomes almost impossible: moving forward isn't possible, as proceeding would contradict the laws of physics. Turning back, however, constitutes a renunciation of the core value (reaching the Limit), and thus immediate exit from the genre itself. Grind is, in fact, such a conceptually evolved and pure genre (it essentially represents a final point) that it does not allow for any evolution except contamination—a contamination that, as mentioned, inevitably propels it into other fields like industrial, noise, and even electronics (the path of the Scorn project by grind theorist Mick Harris is emblematic). Evidently, therefore, the only option, in light of this, is to remain where one stands, that is: on tiptoes at the line that denotes the Limit.

The only way, therefore, not to fall into mannerist temptations and at the same time remain faithful to the stringent dictates that the genre imposes is to understand that grindcore isn't simply a standard of brutality to comply with but rather a vehicle through which to express one's artistic urgency. And although stylistically very similar to its predecessor (perhaps, slightly more extreme), in "From Enslavement to Obliteration" it is the content that convinces us, and it is those we look at, because now we are savvy kids who are not easily impressed anymore. And "From Enslavement to Obliteration" is pleasing for what it is, an excellent extreme music record, a work that, according to me, shines with a light that makes it superior to all the rest of Napalm Death's discography, past and future—a maturity only intuited in "Scum", with an immediacy and anarchy that in the subsequent "Harmony Corruption" will be lost forever.

Mick Harris, Lee Dorrian, Bill Steer, Shane Embury, four names that, when seen one after the other, truly make an impression. Because there is only one way to go a thousand miles an hour and not seem repetitive: have the guts, call yourself Mick Harris, and throw yourself headlong into continuous and unpredictable tempo changes, deadly drum rolls, and gasping breaks. Then come the others, Lee Dorrian’s paranoid and strained voice—visionary and psychedelic icon of brutality; Steer’s rotting guitar that, between thrash and hardcore, already smells of that decay which will make his Carcass successful and soon explode; Embury’s dirty and dazed bass, who will become the reference point for future Napalm Death.

Four brilliant and different personalities (just look at where their paths will lead) who put their talent at the service of brutality, elevating grindcore to a vision and metaphor of contemporary society. Just listen to the opener "Evolved as One", a damned blues reminiscent of Swans introducing us to the terrible journey: the paranoid and slow drum beats, the muffled and dissonant bass, the rotting guitar, the voice that breaks the microphone: one of the most intense moments of extreme music, if you don’t believe it, listen to Lee Dorrian repeating "Your Weak Mind" endlessly, exploring the most varied and desperate vocal registers, as if in the grip of a schizophrenic rapture.

But it’s just the calling card, from the following "It's a M.A.N.S. World!" one dives headlong into a mad rush where there is really little space for meditation, just as happens with the daily frenzy and the bombardment of inputs to which we are subjected and that prevent us from metabolizing and understanding reality.

So, let yourself be stunned by these 27 frenzied shards (a way of conceiving and making music that finds its formal pinnacle in the two lightning seconds of "Dead") until the tragic end of "The Curse", a message replete with pessimism and absolute lack of hope for a better future.

Yet, despite its catastrophic meaning, how beautiful grindcore is: the primordial chaos, the mashed and raving growls suddenly turning into piercing screeches (as if rage overwhelms us to such extents that we can’t articulate words anymore, like a genuine regression to the primitive state), the fury of the drums that in its speed disintegrates and becomes something intangible (a clattering of cymbals, a metaphysical buzz that propels us at the speed of light yet takes us nowhere), the fragmentation and sense of instability of non-structures (which horrifies us and leaves us puzzled, as it prevents us from digesting the artist’s message, which is only sketched without completion). A state of affairs inherent in the very meaning of the moniker Napalm Death: a terrible end, extreme, caused by an unquenchable fire that not only burns you but continues to burn you despite water, despite the onset of Death. A total annihilation, not only of Life but also, and above all, of Matter.

Metal is therefore surpassed in destructuring and irrationality, much like a utility car being overtaken on the left by a derailing train racing down the asphalt, smashing the guardrail, and continuing its mad and self-destructive course off-road, mowing down every obstacle while simultaneously annihilating itself. Crazy and irrational music that metaphorically reflects the implosion of the contemporary world: chaos, alienation, stress, loneliness, dehumanization, the fragmentation of the Self, the incapacity to build an awareness of oneself and the external world, the ensuing anguish, anger, and despair. But more than that: insubordination to imposed behavioral models, control that makes us impotent, manipulation that renders us demented.

There’s little use in being holier-than-thou snobs, grind is us, our society, the values on which it stands, and the aberrant economic system that adopts them. You can try lining up cheeses and eating them with chestnut honey and venison shards all you want...