🌊 SURF 'N TURF 🏝️ -THE ISLAND LIFE- https://image.nostr.build/8aa476b21b2fdd667721dc7bd4b4aafeed8d8f7be150cdcba501d843b4662336.jpg ON THIS DAY, November 3rd, 1992, RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE released their self-titled debut album through Epic Records. https://youtu.be/bWXazVhlyxQ It's difficult to cast our minds back to when the amalgam of punk, rock, rap, metal and alternative rock wasn't the maligned concoction it often feels today. In 1992, when Rage Against The Machine released their incendiary debut it exploded the notion that genre barriers were not to be crossed. The band's vision and execution were so clear and powerful that they dragged legions of rock fans from many disparate corners of the musical landscape into one place. The amalgam of rock, rap, and metal had been dabbled with in previous years. Aerosmith's blockbuster hit "Walk This Way" was a brilliantly realised collaboration with hip-hop kings Run DMC. Anthrax turned it up a notch with their cover of Public Enemy's "Bring The Noise," featuring Chuck D and Flava Flav, with guitarist Scott Ian rapping his heart out. Despite these and other instances, when Rage Against The Machine's debut arrived in late 1992, it felt new, vital, and cutting edge. The band released their first demo tape eleven months before the album's release. The tape contained earlier recordings of seven of the ten songs that made the album. There was no feeling out process, no awkward forays into self-indulgent wankery, no difficult moments of exploration; in fact, there was no filler whatsoever. Rage Against The Machine arrived fully formed. They delivered a sledgehammer blow right from the get-go. The songs were shorn of all fat; the grooves rivalled the deepest swing of hip-hop and R&B, the energy distilled the rage of hardcore punk while delivering it with the precision of metal. If the image of the protesting monk, Thích Quảng Đức, self-immolating was not already a bold statement of intent, then the visceral music that followed was enough to shake your bones to dust. The lyrical themes of taking power back, anti-racism, anti-fascism, and anti-bigotry are still pertinent. It took the angst of grunge and moulded it into something intellectual and cerebral. The conviction with which vocalist Zach de la Rocha spits his rhymes is still breathtaking. Tom Morello coaxing incredible un-guitarlike sounds from his guitar. Bass player Tim Commerford dishes out heavy tones, punctuating the tracks with a funk-driven edge. Drummer Brad Wilk holds the whole thing together like a dynamic glue. Versatile and swaggering, his dextrous playing channels the spirit of John Bonham. Opening with a palm-muted descending guitar hook, "Bombtrack" lights the fuse and sets out the intent for what's to come. The seditious bounce of the verse groove is tight and powerful as the band lays down section after section of head-nodding beats and riffs for Zach de la Rocha to weave between. "Killing In The Name" follows. A hair-raising polemic attack on the institutions that govern and protect, the song has become a cultural beacon. Despite being firmly entrenched in the zeitgeist of the early '90s, it's travelled through the decades unscathed, still sounding as fresh and commanding as it did on release. "Take The Power Back" opens with Wilks' thudding bass drum and deft high-hat work. Morrello coaxes rattlesnake-like shivers from his guitar as Commerford slaps the downbeat. Morrello adds a call-and-response volume swell with Commerford's bass before all three lock into an almighty, building a shaking groove. After a jazz-infused solo from Morrello and a Led Zeppelin-like breakdown, de la Rocha is left alone, punctuated only by tight two-note stabs as he offers, "The teacher stands in front of the class. But the lesson plan he can't recall. The students' eyes don't perceive the lies. Bouncing off every fucking wall." "Settle For Nothing" opens with an eerie bass line. Sounding not unlike Repeater/Steady Diet Of Nothing era Fugazi, it creates a desolate atmosphere which soon shatters as the song morphs into a devastating sledge-hammer groove of pummelling, bleak riffing ala My War era Black Flag. De la Rocha is incandescent in his delivery. "Bullet In The Head" opens with one of the most memorable bass riffs of the '90s. Morrello emulates record-scratching and oddball high-pitched wails over the verse. The chorus backs De la Rocha's pleas of "Just victims of the in-house drive-by. They say, "Jump," you say, "How high?" Morrello's guitar solos are otherworldly as he coaxes sounds from his guitar that, up to that point, were alien to rock music and rock guitar in general. "Know Your Enemy" bristles with an intensely potent bounce as Morello's strangulated opening staccato riff gives way to a fierce, untamed riff supported by a tight springing rhythm section. The middle eight breaks down only to see TOOL's Maynard James Keenan enter the fray, singing, "I've got no patience now. So sick of complacence now," over a hushed thudding beat. As the section ends, Maynard delivers a truly chilling scream that is equally blood-curdling and exhilarating, setting the stage for a stunning Morello guitar solo. "Wake Up" opens with a "Kashmir"-like intro. Sharing the feel of the Led Zeppelin classic is an obvious tip of the hat to the Gods of Rock. Soon, the song evolves into a typically erudite groove fest. Morrello's guitar swirls on top of a military-precision rhythm as he laces wha and churning phase across the beats. "Fistful Of Steel" opens with a gurgling guitar that moves to a screaming wail, introducing a lump-hammer crack of riffs and beats. The verse locks into a weighty bass and drum feel that expertly sits behind the beat. Morrello urges banshee-like wails from his guitar as De la Rocha tightly spits across the beats. The song's outro rages with an incessant ying/yang of incendiary push-beat riffs and breakdowns. "Township Rebellion" races with a powerful beat from Wilk, replete with cowbell and Commerford's heavily affected bass. Sounding like he filtered it through a didgeridoo, Commerford's bending attack creates an instantly memorable, funky and hook-laden vibe. The song's chorus hits a halftime groove and reverts to a more conventional, tight route for De la Rocha to deliver, "Why stand on a silent platform? Fight the war, fuck the norm." Morrello's avant-jazz solo is memorable before the song moves to a chugging outro. "Freedom" is a thudding, groove-laden masterpiece and a stunningly powerful way to end an album chocked to the brim with moments of epic vitality. Moving from a swaying groove to crashing, pointed rage, the song is a rollercoaster ride through all that makes the band a genuinely potent proposition. The outro is something to behold, a slashing wave of rage and anger distilled into a focused stab of musical outcry. It's a heady brew that was never bettered by the succession of bands that followed and tried to emulate Rage Against The Machines' formula. The band bludgeoned you awake while still allowing you to groove on the driving riffs. They politicised a generation that has since grown up and now wishes for an artistically apolitical present day; what Rage Against The Machine presented us in 1992 still seems bravely confrontational. They've never changed; all around them has. Musically, the debut album remains a milestone of the early '90s. Its legacy altered the face of modern rock and left an indelible mark on generations. Essential...! Credits goes to the respective Author ✍️/ Photographer📸 🐇 🕳️ #Bitcoin #Satoshis #Freedom #Apocalypse #Music #Movies #Philosophy #Literature #Grownostr #Stoicism #Nature APOCALYPSE ANONYMOUS by ATOSHI ANARKOMOTO