Napalm Death - Utilitarian
I love Napalm Death as much as anyone, but it’s time to face facts. Every positive, glowing review you see of their more recent material is basically an extended Lifetime Achievement Award, no one more guilty than myself. But faced with the unenviable challenge of reviewing Utilitarian, I can’t hold back anymore. My introduction to the band came as a high schooler in the early ’90s, with Death Metal-infused Grindcore classics like Harmony Corruption, Utopia Banished and the stellar Death by Manipulation comp. To this day, those are the records I reach for when I need my fix. I did enjoy the more accessible direction they went in during the Greed Killing/Diatribes era, and while people speak highly of that period now, at the time there were cries of sell-out and the band gradually returned to fast, brutal form. Since then, fans have established a pattern. Every couple years, Barney & Co. release an undoubtedly solid but ultimately forgettable album that we spin a few times then shelve eternally. Of course there are exceptions —2005’s The Code Is Red… and the Leaders Not Followers covers collections spring to mind— but I couldn’t tell Enemy of the Leech from Time Waits for No Smear if I had to, decent as those albums are. On the contrary, Utilitarian is definitely unforgettable, but not exactly for the right reasons. Greenway’s lungs, subjected to over two decades of rigorous roaring, may have finally had enough. In parts of this album he sounds like a horse getting flogged. Mitch Harris’ patented backing screams sound even more strained, rendering “The Wolf I Feed” and “Orders of Magnitude” completely unlistenable. Speaking of unlistenable, I just don’t ever need to hear saxophone on a Napalm Death track (“Everyday Pox”). Call me closed-minded, I’m fine with that. It sounds fucking weird and I don’t like it. Otherwise the band is musically as tight as ever, balancing relentless speed with slower tempo experimental nuances, but none of it is memorable. The clean vocal arrangements and interspersed Swans/My Bloody Valentine worship found on a healthy handful of cuts do stand out, but only because they don’t really sound proper for a Napalm Death record. Clearly the band acknowledge the need to mix things up a bit and I applaud them for it but, much like 15% of the United States, it just doesn’t work. You might be able to extract about 25 minutes of serviceable Grindcore bliss from the limited edition version of this album, if you were willing to sift through about 25 minutes of the band out of their element to do so. Look, these men are legends. They are forefathers of extreme, politically-charged art the world over and I am the definition of nobody. However, when it comes to Utilitarian, I ABSTAIN!
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