Toxic Narcotic
89-99

A magnificent massacre, from the first to the last note. There is no better way to describe this compilation that marks the first ten years of Toxic Narcotic. They hail from Boston, and it shows: the Boston hardcore scene has always been an even more brutal offspring of that already muscular NYHC, ever since the seminal manifesto of "This Is Boston Not L.A." As if to say, you keep the melodies, the sun, and the beaches, we'll keep the hits and the concrete. And, in this, Toxic Narcotic are worthy offspring of those predecessors.

A magnificent massacre, as we were saying. In 2000, the band takes stock of the first part of their career by compiling all the tracks that appeared on various splits released so far, showcasing with their discography even before with their music a deep dedication to the city scene: adherents of DIY, they produce and distribute themselves through their own record label, Rodent Popsicle, which promotes many other local acts. Either way, they present us with this "89-99" nineteen hits to the face for thirty-seven minutes of blind fury spewed against everything and everyone, indiscriminately. People Suck, All Bands Suck, Fuck You, the titles are enough, damn the frills and roundabout phrases, to present the ferocity of the music. And what music: UK 82 filtered through killer drums and New York breakdowns. Discharge guitars supported by the rhythm section of Sick Of It All. Chaos U.K. and Biohazard meeting in a dive bar to break stuff and faces. And naturally the founding fathers of the beloved Boston Hardcore, especially Gang Green in the more metallic parts and the syncopated vocal lines of S.S. Decontrol. No conception of melody in these otherwise memorable tracks, there's no singing here, no hits for the kids, here it's all about the beatdowns, no doubt about it.

It is surprising that despite its interlocutory nature as a compilation, "89-99" enjoys remarkable internal cohesion, so much so that the tracks all seem to come from more or less the same sessions, instead of being taken over a decade: a sign of an enviable consistency, but also, if you will, a certain underlying repetitiveness. A very forgivable flaw, however, in light of the cathartic experience that this album is: the classic work, see "Reign in Blood", or "World Downfall", to put on when in need of a primordial outlet, to shout VAFFANCULO without thoughts, to punch the wardrobe until you calm down. Assuming it's possible, to calm down with Toxic Narcotic.