Hardcore punk (i.e., extremist punk rock) underwent a �left-wing� revolution in the second half of the 1980s, when the phenomenon of �grindcore� exploded in the United Kingdom. Born from the ashes of the politicized hardcore of Crass and Discharge, it was a form of violent, fast, fragmented, chaotic music built on mechanical riffs, ultrasonic tempos, and mangled melodies. Birmingham became one of its most important centers thanks to Napalm Death. For a few years Napalm Death were the standard-bearers of the most barbaric music of their time. Far from being uneducated, the band actually included at least three highly significant figures who would go on to distinguished careers: Lee Dorrian, Mick Harris, and Justin Broadrick. From the union of these three intellectuals emerged a sound that was anything but intellectual.

Formed in 1981 with Mick Harris on drums, Justin Broadrick on guitar (part-time with Head of David), and Nick Bullen on vocals, they immediately established themselves in the anarchic Crass circuit, but took years to record their first album. By then Lee Dorrian had taken over vocals, Bill Steer had joined on guitar, and Shane Embury was on bass.

Scum (Earache, 1987) was something of a manifesto for grindcore as a whole. Napalm Death defined a new standard of speed, volume, and brevity, surpassing that of punk rock (exactly ten years later). The 28 songs on that record were barricades of extreme sound: frantic, confused pounding; inhuman animalistic shouting; unfinished musical phrases even in their most basic form; everything reduced to explosions of rage (many tracks last only a few seconds, one lasts a single second), as if seeking a kind of sonic self-flagellation. Instinct Of Survival, Scum, and Siege Of Power are collapsing vortices of rapidly disintegrating sound. Highly fragmented, disorienting, and overwhelming, this random aggregation of cacophonous �minimalisms� shifted the center of gravity of rock music one notch further.

The group abandoned some of its earlier terrorism on the following From Enslavement To Obliteration (Earache, 1988), an album not much more humane but more solemn, drawing inspiration both from Discharge (Display To Me) and Swans (Mentally Murdered). Nevertheless, tracks such as It's A M.A.N.S. World, Lucid Fairytale, the title track, Emotional Suffocation, Worlds Apart, and Make Way remain so stormy and epileptic that they are painful even for the most hardened punk listener; and their regression into barbarism can reach the simple shouted �Dead!� in the track of the same name (duration: six seconds).
Even Dorrian�s �yeti-like� vocals�mostly an almost inaudible growl, reduced in Musclehead to little more than gargling�seem to have found a human dimension of despair and isolation rather than pure monstrosity (his best performance is in Unchallenged Hate). From Enslavement is no less savage than its predecessor, but it achieves a perverse equilibrium within its imbalance and may well remain their masterpiece.

The EP Mentally Murdered, containing Missing Link and Rise Above, effectively marks the end of the first phase.

The lineup was radically changed after Dorrian and Steer left (later joining Cathedral and Carcass respectively). They were replaced by Barney Greenway (ex-Benediction) on vocals and two new guitarists: Mitch Harris of Righteous Pigs and Jesse Pintado of Terrorizer.

The new lineup also brought a stylistic shift: Napalm Death became a Slayer-style speed metal band. Harmony Corruption (Earache, 1990) marked the turn toward death metal, achieving mass success with tracks like Vision Conquest (written by Embury) and other riff barrages. Greenway does not so much sing as bark; Mick Harris is less involved in composition; the others rely on routine. Napalm Death had already ceased to be artists and had become an institution.

The EP Mass Appeal Madness (1991), later included with Mentally Murdered on Death By Manipulation (Earache, 1991), at least retained a raw garage-rock energy, though it still emulated overseas masters.

Drummer Mick Harris, now tired of juvenile grindcore, began collaborating on John Zorn�s avant-garde project Painkiller and formed Scorn with former Napalm Death members Broadrick (now leader of Godflesh) and Bullen. His departure actually brought the band back on track: Utopia Banished (1992) is perhaps the last fully successful album, even if it lacks standout tracks or major breakthroughs.

Mitch Harris also launched a side project, Meathook Seed with Trevor Perez (of Obituary), but the album Embedded (Earache, 1993) was mediocre. Similarly, Embury�s Blood From The Soul project, To Spite The Gland That Breeds (Earache, 1993), was no better.

Meanwhile, Napalm Death attempted to shed their death-metal label with Fear Emptiness Despair (1994), a more ambitious album in which the five members behave like musicians playing instruments rather than mere resonating boxes of monstrous noise (Ratching On The Dirt, Plague Rages).

The experiments did not benefit Diatribes (Earache, 1996), which at its best produces muddled numbers like Greed Killing and at its worst attempts to reach out to the mainstream (Just Rewards, Glimpse Into Genocide).

Inside The Torn Apart (Earache, 1997) continues the series of blurred and patchy records, which only rarely (Breed To Breathe) recall their former glory.

Leaders Not Followers (Relapse, 2000) is an album of covers.

Enemy Of The Music Business (Spitfire, 2001) is a mixed bag. Mick Harris has grown as a person and as a musician since the early days of Napalm Death and we get the feeling that he simply does not relate anymore to his brainchild. That said, this is a sequence of brutal knock-outs at breakneck speed that would have inspired barricades in the heydays of grindcore. The problem is that today Taste the Poison and Next on the List, while impeccable, sound old-fashioned and primitive compared in the scene of 2001.

Despite the revamped metal sound, The Code Is Red Long Live The Code (Century Media, 2005) sounds tired, sterile, outdated.

Smear Campaign (2006) marked a return to brutal grindcore orthodoxy, probably their best in a decade.

The renewed fiery spirit (mainly on display in Protection Racket and Analysis Paralysis) does not help Utilitarian (2012): the material is mostly mediocre, and the band has to resort to tricks like the dark ambient instrumental Circumspect, the John Zorn-augmented free-jazz rave-up of Everyday Pox, and like regular singing instead of the guttural growls that defined a whole subgenre (The Wolf I Feed, Blank Look About Face).