This new film about Oasis’s glory years is rousing, heart-rending and really f**king funny
The Bed Is In The Ocean
Metal no longer exists. Ash are rock. Marilyn Manson, conceivably, are rock. Terrorvision, bless 'em, are pop. And Napalm Death?...
All grist to the Death's almighty mill, frankly. For this Birmingham-born crew are beyond metal. Their self-styled extreme music - tyre-slashing riffs, bludgeoned, pummelling drums and Mark 'Barney' Greenway's cheese-grater-scrubbed bark - has been honed to such exhilarating perfection over the course of ten albums (and over a million sold) that to accuse them of being myopic in musical outlook is to concede immediate defeat. Old dogs loathe new tricks.
The essence of Napalm is not rare, but refined. 'Words...' is a blizzard of noise, sheet-steel guitars and indecipherable grunts; impenetrable and impolite, but satisfyingly self-fulfilling. They know best, let them get on with it. 'Cleanse Impure' and 'None The Wiser?' have tunes. Slackers.
Metal in spirit, mental in practice.
Delving into the murk and noise of their past, the Boston veterans’ second post-reunion album is a superlative indie rock collection
Two kings of the indie dancefloor unite for a warm, timeless take on 20th century pop and rock
This unruly second album delivers a sucker punch to anyone who had the Kent duo down as a novelty act
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