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Napalm Death
« Words from the Exit Wound »
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1 | The Infiltraitor 04:29
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 2 | Repression Out of Uniform 02:53
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 3 | Next of Kin to Chaos 04:09
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 4 | Trio-Degradable / Affixed by Disconcern 04:34
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 5 | Cleanse Impure 03:13
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 6 | Devouring Depraved 03:22
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 7 | Ulterior Exterior 01:50
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 8 | None the Wiser? 04:16
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 9 | Clutching at Barbs 02:26
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 10 | Incendiary Incoming 03:08
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 11 | Thrown Down a Rope 03:24
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 12 | Sceptic in Perspective 03:24
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 13 | Hung (live) 03:57
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 14 | Greed Killing (live) 02:59
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![](/img/blank.gif) | 15 | Suffer the Children (live) 04:11 |
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![](/img/icon-music-v.gif) ![Состав группы](/img/icon-music-band.gif) ![->](/img/icon-arr-1r.gif) Mark "Barney" Greenway - Vocals
Jesse Pintado - Guitar
Mitch Harris - Guitar
Shane Embury - Bass
Danny Herrera - Drums |
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![](/img/icon-music-v.gif) ![Информация](/img/icon-music-info.gif)
Produced by Colin Richardson
Assistant Engineer - Ewan Davies
Recorded & Mixed at Chapel Studios,
Lincolnshire, U.K. (June 1998)
Mastered by Guy Davie @ The Exchange, U.K.
Photograph by Matt Cannon
Design: Graham Humphreys |
![](/img/icon-music-v.gif) ![Тексты песен](/img/icon-music-texts.gif) |
![](/img/blank.gif) | The Infiltraitor
Shaped thus, shipped'em out
a new deal to flog and flout.
Buried up to the neck in socio-aggregate;
Twist an arm and drag it back.
Infiltraitor reclaims the rhetoric.
Infiltraitor turns the kindness milk.
Infiltraitors!
A now and later policy
suits privileged co![Скрыть/показать](/img/icon-comments-show.gif) |
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![](/img/blank.gif) Созданный той же лихой компанией, что и «Inside the Torn Apart», этот альбом мог быть только странным. Хотя, вспоминают о нём ещё реже, чем о полу-индустриальном эксперименте 1997-го года. И зря. Во-первых: ND – это всегда ND. Во-вторых: тот же восхитительно ледяной, механический риффинг с прошлого альбома с вылетами к собственно тому "Напалму", который мы знаем с 2000-х годов, то есть к актуальному «придэтованному» звуку. Типичная для работы 1997-го года мутная лирика между социальной критикой и заразными мысленными отторжениями воспалённого мозга. Глубоко пессимистичная атмосфера, бессильная ярость принужденного к стороннему наблюдению субъекта, прекрасно демонстрируемая хриплыми воплями и «чистым» отрешённым голосом Барни.
Если кто-то не считал альбом 1997-го года «падением» с грайндового Олимпа (если такая хрень вообще существует), то должен бы отнестись и к «Words» с причитающимся ему почтением. Чего ему не хватает – это яркости, которая была у его предшественника. В остальном же - «Just an observation of a machine generation. / Push this. / The same old song». |
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Как-то у Напалма стало все однообразно и похоже, но и одновременно прекрасно. Последние три релиза, включая этот похожи как "три капли воды". На этом материале саунд не ушел никуда от манеры предыдущих альбомов: такой же мини-индустриальный звук гитар, скоростные ударные, бесчеловечный гроул и иногда проскальзывающий чистый вокал. Хорошо хоть, экспериментов с электроникой не наблюдается, но до этого они наверное не опустятся. |
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A now and later policy
crowns privileged contingency.
Firmly entrenched, flip the cards.
Buy it up and starve it under
cultivating on the middle thatch
all withers through the barren patch.
High-flying,
Market the proles - the ornemental and quaint.
Lower-stooping,
disbanding in union.
Spine snaps on the make.
Throwing stances,
juggling a standpoint so it won't offend.
Tailored muses;
sharp, econo-friendly.
Spine snaps on the make.
Repression Out of Uniform
Phobic - eggshell-walking on a brink.
Camera sensor eyes pierce.
We excuse stone-set normality.
yet send tremors through morality.
Frozen optics,
traction for outspoken heads.
Fuck your badgeless, rankless dirge
and bizarre take on community concern.
Division is your vision.
Cajoled - jostled into position
where we can't ascend or defend.
Funny how you're moulded by perfection;
Which visionary told you so?
Curse our influence,
traction for outspoken heads.
Your true colours make us reel - scab
Garish hue with bilious sheen - scab
no dressing up to the nines - scab
It's permanent under the skin.
Policing the detritus - unclean!
Policing the benign?
Fuck your badgeless, rankless dirge
and fuck assumptions that we're dirt
This derision builds a prison... for you!
Next of Kin to Chaos
Stuck in the learning hole,
there is no teaching
that I can subscribe to -
Just the hatred of being afraid.
Trapped in a nightmare,
nothing can alter this.
Just another daydream,
calendar sadness.
Lucid, inducing swarm
becoming closer but getting colder.
The caustic grip insane.
Lucid induced
Pre-shaping destiny - hiding inside of me.
Primate illusions of
how all this should be.
Next of kin to chaos.
Trio-Degradable / Affixed by Disconcern
Assume to play a common role
to pursue a common goal.
Affixed by disconcern.
Offer us an explanation
or give some form of confirmation.
Affixed by disconcern.
Disclose the right to share the truth.
Denied the right to hear the truth.
Affixed by disconcern.
One nation under god;
see through the charade.
Deliberated fraud;
now it serves no purpose.
Prefabricated screams taken to extremes
to limit our dreams;
now they serve no purpose.
Increasingly pessimistic,
Conscience - you can't resist it.
A thought to coincide a lifetime supply...
Stimulate your curiosities,
expose yourself to generosity.
Mind control to what extend?
An astronomical event
to seperate beyond the hip.
Fail safe to make decisions.
Conceded premonitions.
Guilty we coincide a lifetime supply...
Cleanse Impure
Super-power - soup from bloated pyres.
Ultra-pristine - break off a nation, take a bite.
Covet me dearly,
shaft me completely,
cleanse me impure 'til the doctrine sticks.
Super-focused - fields of red to dredge.
Ultra-conscious - earmarked? devil? in your wake.
Covet me dearly,
shaft me completely,
cleanse me impure 'til the doctrine sticks.
Might is right to blight
in the just scheme of things.
Bombs for sludge for blood,
(generations) snuffed out on a whim.
Husk of a patriot.
Vapours of a soul blown off.
Husk of a patriot.
Devouring Depraved
Fall in line - a race to sacrifice
Blood red highs - select and televise
Fall in line - a race to sacrifice
Blood red highs - detract desensitize
Draining my lack of perception,
feeding the strength of remorse,
accepting these mute aggressions
for seeing the truth once more.
No one is listening.
Pushing connection to failure,
defacing our strength of worth.
No loyalty here for the twisted.
No saviour for the perverse.
This season treason.
Come so far just to go back,
to escape the rats - the potential craving lunacy.
Conducting reaction in fractions.
Judgements collective inapt;
addiction for this, the solution:
devouring depraved take the axe.
Devouring Depraved
Fall in line - a race to sacrifice
Blood red highs - select and televise
Fall in line - a race to sacrifice
Blood red highs - detract desensitize
Draining my lack of perception,
feeding the strength of remorse,
accepting these mute aggressions
for seeing the truth once more.
No one is listening.
Pushing connection to failure,
defacing our strength of worth.
No loyalty here for the twisted.
No saviour for the perverse.
This season treason.
Come so far just to go back,
to escape the rats - the potential craving lunacy.
Conducting reaction in fractions.
Judgements collective inapt;
addiction for this, the solution:
devouring depraved take the axe.
Ulterior Exterior
Murderers! stoop up the cry.
Stoop much lower than thou.
Flush out militant vermin,
revenge won't stain (your) virginal gowns.
Ulterior exterior bucks your state, it's inferior.
Ulterior exterior - justice-minded from afar.
Counteract, tit-for-tat.
Your loyals taking scalps
are the mercy men hammering entitlements to your mast.
Ulterior exterior arms appeal with your name on.
Ulterior exterior - dictum-vying from afar.
White knuckles quash your simple human touch.
Revolution's children are but a madmen's larvae
...to be squashed!
None the Wiser?
I'm impervious,
this subservience demeans a mental gait.
It' insensible,
just be digestible and tether down that rage.
No ignoramus (or) sufferer for art.
big windows smudged so play a part!
Since when did we discard perception as the years went flashing by?
Will characterless enigmas brake the degenerative slide?
Not in deep for a dress to impress,
won't go tired on vast space to defend.
Not in deep for a dress to impress,
won't go tired on vast space to defend.
If maturity wipes the slate carefree,
keep me infantile.
Major humane drop to the comfort zone.
Smooth earth now to ride.
Hereafter believable - legitimate.
A model of transparency - freeze up my gaps.
Since when did we discard perception as the years went flashing by?
Will characterless enigmas brake the degenerative slide?
Self-harming on the climb to my box.
The cancer's not eating -
others holes it has clogged.
Time is a climb
dragging your chains,
One-way parade.
Glued to the rail,
fixed on a tail.
Side-step barred.
Jump with no push,
not to devoid void
but aching places.
Incendiary Incoming
Spurned my own motives.
Can I vacate these premises?
Siphoned off,
Sealed my walls.
Strike a light then screw the vice.
Callouses that keep my peace - blemished blissfully,
torched off in a fiery sea,
defiled first degree.
Searching flames darkens embrace.
And lost crimes laid raw and bare,
guarded eyes with intruded glare.
Incendiary incoming
Picking out thoughts like carrion,
cannot put the finger on.
Un-brotherly love sears
worse than those unknown.
Shards of spite cut lines of sight.
And lost crimes laid raw and bare,
guarded eyes with intruded glare.
Incendiary incoming
Thrown Down a Rope
Someone wants me dead
from the neck and upwards.
Rope weaved by these hands,
box of my toils.
Coerced - dazed by a suckerpunch.
Reeling - believing that these are the dues.
Pitch back - throwback to a chastised youth.
No quarter - stifled under a stich-up hood.
To be made an example
will stauch my deviant flow.
Held a lever that only I can pull.
Need a trauma to silence my loose tongue.
Bigots want my head
on a plate to sound-out.
Probing - exposing delicate core to full view.
Damning - programming etiquette to suit.
To dissect and reset
will staunch my deviant flow.
Held a lever that only I can pull.
Need a trauma to silence my loose tongue.
Group constrictor.
Throttling a bond.
Call a cull to silence our loose tongues.
Sceptic in Perspective
It's a straight and narrow path
or is it fate which takes our hand?
Play the game, praise the man that fakes the masterplan;
take the rough with the smooth.
Whose loss do we loose?
What else could we disprove?
Who shapes the abuse?
You prostitute integrity and blindly steal identity.
Buy it out and watch it die;
fashion talks, the bullshit flies.
Bite your tongue and breath a sight;
take the fall or take the climb.
Streamlined and new improved,
a nation sadly out of tune.
Is it just old-fashioned - creation with a passion?
Just an observation of a machine generation.
Push this.
The same old song.
Is the message lost in this - that's not politics?
There's a rhyme to this reason:
they're one and the same.
Take the heart they've broke
and the money they've choke;
you're left with no answer
to this industry chancer.
Just an observation of a machine generation.
Push this.
The same old song.
Hung (live)
Downwards, downwards-
Life's spiraling descent.
All love is lost.
Premature and unreasoning.
Perversely chained without any values.
Wretched, degraded.
Take it all on the chin.
To forever hold my piece.....
The reins turned noose pull taunt as I fall.
The figment is more painful than the fact,
And I'm the one to hang, just for being me!
The murky clouds wash, solace comforts me not,
And I'm the one to hang, just for being me!
Black numbing blanket smothers attrition once and for all.
Greed Killing (live)
The wrong time, the wrong place
Our smiling face of distrust
Buried, the seed deep in all our heads
Prepared ourselves for the fall
The greed killing
Instinct to mistrust
Instinct, the lust
Their butchery of feelings
Geared for the greed killing
The greed killing
Not now, then when?
Not now, then when?
When?
The lust denies the need
Existence is a steady flow
The moulded image grows
No core, no faith in what you are
The pressure builds right from the start
Could it be just sour grapes?
Or have we failed to fit their shape?
It's always give and never take
How much more can we give?
How much more can we take?
Suffer the Children (live)
Your unflappable conception moralistic views
Never open to criticism your overpowering ruse
Promises of sanctuary in eternal bliss
With starry eyes and cash in hand
Pledge all to the masters plan
Just face the truth or fund the farce
At one with your god your sole intent
Your treasured place assured
For a substantial rent
Global lucancy death threats for supposed blasphemy
No room for free thought
All non believers pushed to the floor
Agressive tyrans supposed saints for the cause
Judgement through force faith a fuel for pointless war
When all is done who shall benefit? Who is the one?
Not those dictators divine waving their deceintful wands