Published on Oct 23, 2003
Grateful Dead they will never be, but someone found it
profitable to release a recording of this show (made through the
sound-board), and sell it. As the owner of a Brazilian Napalm Death
boot-leg, I can attest that sound-quality is probably never a
concern for people trying to make some quick money off the band’s
labors.
It’s just noise, anyway, you say. That’s precisely the
problem. To the un-trained ear (especially early period) Napalm
Death is taxing on the listener and stereo on their regular,
‘legitimate’ releases. I still remember hearing “Rise Above” on
vinyl for the first time over ten years ago, and thinking something
was very wrong with my turntable. The same thing happened when I
took the EP over to a friend’s record player. At first, Bill
Steer’s spaghetti-like guitar strings seemed as densely tuned as
possible (bands who want to seem ominous usually tune to ‘D’.
Napalm Death tune to ‘B’, where their tremolo-picking just about
sends the strings to the floor.).
Then the “singing” begins. My friend, Neil, and I fell on the
floor, laughing in disbelief that anyone could sound like that. It
was lo-fi before that became cool (Guided by Voices back then were
still a hobby band, and their albums just sounded
like…crap), but you could still suss out the fact that the
drummer had about ten arms, and was going full-speed ahead with
them on this “verse”. It sounded quite a bit like a helicopter with
drumsticks taped to the blades. I, who previously thought that
D.R.I. were one of the fastest bands in the land, was totally
speechless. Not only was this amazingly quick (about twice as
speedy as primo Slayer), but the
singer! Lee Dorrian, a mild looking fellow, couldn’t
possibly be human.
‘What’s he growling about?’ said Neil, snatching the sleeve
out of my hand so he could read the lyrics off the back. Instead of
a dissertation on Beelzebub’s finer points, or diatribes against
women (popular lyrical jaunts in the heavier spectrum of rock),
these are, oddly, what Neil read back to me:
“At time of birth, minds free from suspicion, senses
raped, induced with superstition. A pre-set mode to befit
description, language, colour, race definition. Inner strength must
detect the love we each possess before we may reach, appreciating
it in anyone else. External distinctions used as scapegoats to
problems, channeling our aggression in the wrong direction. Break
down the barriers that enforce superstition. Learn to trust,
overcome suspicion. Acceptance, the weapon, active against our
freedom, our love and compassion held at treason. Rise above
induced superstition.”
All we heard was: Crushing Riff…Growls…FM Radio-Static
bass…growls…machine-gun (‘blast-beat’) drums…Growls. As the
brief maelstrom ended, Dorrian’s last line rang out after the
barrage had already climaxed
“…superstitionnnnnnnnnnn!”, with the last syllable
sounding like a wounded minotaur. How on earth can the combination
of bass, drums, guitars, and vocals reap such an earth-pounding
dividend?
This was my introduction to Napalm Death. They had just broken
through the ‘They can’t really play. It’s all a big joke.’ Phase,
and were entering a more progressive one. One where their .075
second-long songs (really) of old were replaced by ones that
approached, and at times, went beyond the two-minute mark.
Lee and Bill did a tour of Japan, before calling it a day, and
Mark ‘Barney’ Greenway, an occasional roadie, and American pen-pal
Jesse Pintado joined up. They played for a bit, touring with Morbid
Angel, and other like-minded acts, before another American
pen-friend Mitch Harris jumped aboard.
Bootlegged in Japan was recorded at the Liquid Rooms in
Tokyo, in 1996, while The End of Music As We Know It were plugging
their finest (at the time) album,
Diatribes. The line-up to this group has been in flux
somewhat, but drummer Danny Herrera (who replaced Mick ‘the Human
Tornado’ Harris) has been in the fold since 1991. With the
post-Diatribes re-instatement of Greenway (he felt
Diatribes a little soft, and that ND was no longer much of a
democracy, but changed his mind), Napalm Death continued to be the
most intense live band on earth — without really trying.
This concert document is a prime example. Psychotic tempo
episodes meet brief melodic moments. There’s plenty of the former
to counter-balance the latter. Barney in an early interview claimed
that too much melody would “bore the tits off” him, so subsequent
CDs are a strong mish-mash of both styles. At times you almost feel
like you’re listening to a less-whiny Smashing Pumpkins, especially
on “Cursed to Crawl”, which bassist Shane Embury sings most of.
Outside of Merzbow’s peak moments, you’re not likely to hear a
band quite like Napalm Death ever again. Merzbow (composer Masami
Akita’s prolific noise excursion) comes close. I said
close. You’ll find Merzbow in the ‘Electronic Music’ section
anyway. This is a must have, for when someone tells you about how
‘out-there’ the new Metallica is. Throw
Bootlegged in Japan on, and invite them to have a tall,
frosty glass of
shuthefuckup.