In the California desert, it is common for the fall weather to hit triple digits.
This was one of those days and on this particularly hot day I managed to forget to put a disk into my portable CD Walkman.
Amateur move – for sure… Listening to music on the walk home was one of my favorite parts of the day and I had fumbled it.
Thankfully, my friend was going to let me borrow an album from him since his house was on my way home anyway, AND he gave me options.
He listened to much more Metal than I did, although I was into some of the low-fi Black Metal and 1st wave. None of these I was in the mood for that day and most of the albums I wanted to borrow, were not being loaned out.
Thumbing through his CD book that everyone had from 1994-2007, he stops on something that catches his attention.
“How about Napalm Death?” he tells me as he hands me a burned cd from the collection.
I hold the disk carefully on its sides, recognizing his adequately drawn logo in sharpie.
“SCUM” it says under the logo in hastily written handwriting.
“You know them right?” he asks with almost a concerned tone.
I think for a moment, I know I recognize the logo and I KNOW I’ve heard them… but my brain tells me it is something generic. An absurd thought from someone who was constantly listening to early Darkthrone and Grindcore.
“Yeah I’m pretty sure I have. I know they are on everyone’s playlist” I tell him with the certainty of a student who can’t remember if he read the chapter of homework over the weekend.
He puts his CD book away and begins to walk me out, “You’ve heard them before. They are maybe the only Grind band I like”
Wait what?
“Grind? Aren’t they Death Metal?” I ask.
“The good stuff.” He responds with the typical teenage metal purist attitude.
That’s why he loaned this album out. He doesn’t like this one much, I think to myself.
“It’s sort of required listening…” He starts as I head out of the front door. “You’re a Crusty fuck. You should like them.” He declares as he shuts the front door, “You’ll like the second half better.”
I learned 3 things that day.
- I enjoyed the entire album.
- He was right, I SHOULD like them.
- I did like the second half better.
From that point on, Napalm Death stayed on most mixes or playlists as a sort of “Ol’ Reliable” band for me, whenever I needed a fix of top notch Grind. At the time, many of the underground bands had developed a much “fuller” sound at the time that I often found to be too clunky. A sort of thud sound against a flat wall of overprocessing. Gorgoroth’s “Twilight of the Idols” was, around the time, what I thought of as this shift.
With Napalm Death, I appreciate that no matter how unique each album may be compared to the last, it is always unquestionably recognizable and never over-done. Don’t mistake this for me calling it cheap or empty, they have always just balanced themselves and their recordings out well in my opinion. At least starting with Harmony Corruption and moving forward.
Over the years I didn’t get much opportunity to see them live, and honestly didn’t listen to heavy music as much for several years. When I welcomed heavy music back into my daily life, Napalm Death played a much bigger part of that and to finally see them live was an excellent experience.
Walking onto the stage, Shane Embury and his mop of curls is recognizable almost instantly as he gives a quick wave before readying his bass. Meanwhile Danny Herrera climbs behind his kit in preparation to annihilate a crowd that is not expecting the sheer consistent force he is about to unleash for a lengthy and unrelenting set.
Guitarist/Vocalist John Cooke, whom has been filling in live for Mitch Harris since 2014, is a presence of his own. I had not initially known that Harris had stopped touring with the band to focus on family. As far as I am aware, that is still the case and everyone is on good terms.
Big shoes to fill but Cooke has been doing it for years and has it nailed down.
Finally, Barney Greenway jogs onto the stage and they already loud crowd erupts.
“We love you Barney!” Someone yells from the crowd.
It is true. Everyone I know loves Barney, but in fairness, from all accounts, they are solid dudes with politics most circles I run with, agree on.
After a moment of pleasantry they hammered into their set.
Keeping it in good variety (with a very healthy amount of more recent songs) they escaped a pitfall that lesser bands get lost in – everything starting to bleed together. They would jump from a barrage of blasts to the “hits” to some of the newer stuff and longer songs. It was a ride and Barney was jogging his way through it.
Between some songs Barney would discuss what the song was about or quickly mention something about the creation of the song or who wrote it. A pleasant break to catch a breath and connect with everyone, but never overdrawn.
My favorite thing however was what felt to be almost a joke; seemingly anytime they finished a newer or fuller song, they would almost vomit out a shorter track from Scum with an almost unexpected blast of noise.
“Pay Attention.”
Barney comments into the microphone before they blast through all 1.3 seconds of You Suffer.
“I am telling you,” Barney declares with a modest smirk, “you have GOT to pay attention.”
This of course was a refrain he had been repeating all night and would continue to. Perhaps you should pay attention or you will miss the song, but also, pay attention in general. Look at the world around you. Look at what is happening.
Pay. Attention. You have GOT to pay attention.
He would make their politics clear for the audience. Not in a lecture mind you, but a reminder of everything they believe in and in solidarity with everyone in the building. We all need to pay attention and do our best.
Loud. Unrelenting. Thoughtful and more intelligent than the uninitiated often expect, Napalm Death will always be both Genre-Defining and Genre-Crossing at the same time. Political but maintaining that edge that so many fans of Extreme music desire.
“It is so aggressive and so angry,” one of the venue owners said to me after the show, “I just didn’t expect them to be so nice.”
“Well,” I replied to her, “They are just angry that people aren’t nicer.”