Death Becomes Them

We know what you’re thinking. Napalm Death, the founders of grindcore, circa 1982, is still around? What can they offer the metal world following nearly three decades of sonic brutality that has included numerous changes in sound and personnel? Well, listen to the group’s newest, Time Waits for No Slaves,...

By Steve Jansen

April 30, 2009

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We know what you’re thinking. Napalm Death, the founders of grindcore, circa 1982, is still around? What can they offer the metal world following nearly three decades of sonic brutality that has included numerous changes in sound and personnel? Well, listen to the group’s newest, Time Waits for No Slaves, and try to argue that these unapologetic Brits are irrelevant. The group’s fourteenth effort recalls its vile, get-off-me-bitch approach from albums like Scum with grindcore staples like Cookie Monster vocals and wrecked guitars lines. The best examples of the eff-you-and-your-mother attitude on the album include “Diktat,” an angry anthem sardonically saluting the policing of morality, and the title track that listens like a gigantic one-fingered salute wrapped in blistering sludge. Time hasn’t softened the group lyrics either because they still hate the world and all of the cretins that occupy it. For example, from the title track: Just give them convenience/Upon pain of fucking death/Honored cattle-class turning fattened heads. Still think they’re dead to the metal world? Then maybe you can tell them as much in person this weekend. We wish you luck with that.
Fri., May 1, 7 p.m., 2009

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