Extinction of Mankind – Slaves to No One

Extinction of Mankind, based in the North of England, have been around for over 30 years, so they should not need an introduction, but just in case you are new to them… First there was Discharge, rewriting the sound of punk with a more raw sound. Then Icons of Filth and Antisect combined the harsher sounds with the relentless tirade of words that had typified Crass, hardly pausing for breath. Amebix pushed their take on anarcho-punk in a more metal direction, which was taken even further by bands like Sacrilege. Doom took the Discharge sound and made it dirtier and faster. As the d-beat and crust sound developed, these influences were embellished by more metal, with Scandinavian bands like Wolfbrigade bubbling to the surface. If any of these things are to your liking, then Extinction of Mankind are the band for you.

This album, their fifth I believe, continues Extinction of Mankind’s track record of crushing crust, delivering a brutal, relentless 13 songs in 32 minutes. It is a really hard-hitting album with a powerful, pounding sound and a wall of guitars through which loom shouted, angry vocals. The lyrics are, for the most part, extremely pointed and direct, while on a few songs they take on a more poetic approach, allowing some room for interpretation. While they cover a range of subjects, there is a general shared theme of alienation and dread at the actions of humanity. A fair response given the state of things right now.

Starting with feedback and stomping drums, “Nothing to Hide” opens the album with a song about the creeping removal of our rights in an increasingly authoritarian world. It’s a straight-up raging dose of heavy, fast, Discharge-inspired punk of the sort that the Scandinavians excel at.

Extinction of Mankind’s love of both the relentless drive of Icons of Filth and the crunch of Arise!-era Amebix is clear on “Facing Death,” a cracking tune that takes a shot at religion and the people fooled by it. They return to this style later on the album with “Fucked Up Society,” which speaks of the need for all of us to take action: “There’s no one left, just you and me to fix this fucked up society.”

There are several songs that take Icons of Filth as a stepping-off point, but delivered with a more gnarly crust attack. It’s in the driving style of the tunes, but also singer Ste’s seamless tirade of vocals. “Inside My Fears” and “World Keeps Turning” both deal with how it feels to see the problems of the world that others blindly ignore. “Defund the BBC” attacks the UK establishment broadcaster, which is funded through mandatory TV licences bought by the public. What was once a globally trusted source of impartial reporting now leans into whichever government is in power for fear of funding being cut. Their news output now follows a clear bias in favour of a right-wing agenda and has verged on propaganda over some issues. Ironically, the far right in the UK think the BBC is full of “lefties,” and the hawkish, monopolistic global broadcasters like the Murdoch family also want rid of the BBC’s funding. The BBC are mired in corruption and covered up the actions of paedophiles in their midst. Too right we shouldn’t fund them.

The switch between heavy chug and atmospheric breaks on “Fail to Learn” bears similarities to Killing Joke or Amebix, but heavier, and carries a warning. As Mensi from the Angelic Upstarts said years ago, concentration camps aren’t where fascism starts, it’s where it ends. This song, detailing the journey and arrival at death camps, is salient as it seems as if we are hurtling along that path right now with a resurgence of nationalism and far-right politics worldwide. There is more chug and a distinct metal guitar attack on “Genocide,” an instrumental with samples outlining the impacts of genocidal colonial war being waged across the globe.

A wall of heavy guitars and pounding drums with a touch of kängpunk about it, “Dead Inside” is the song of someone who has been broken, an acknowledgment that it’s hard to keep fighting, and it’s hard being aware of the shit going on in this world. A trio of songs at the end of the album would be worthy of Discharge. The relentless riffing on “Weight of a Thousand Souls” carries a message about the lies of politicians and warmongers. The cheeky guitar flourish on “Bite Down Hard” would sit at home on a Motörhead song. This one describes people who leave their ethics and values behind. “With Broken Hands” paints an image of the brutal impact of war, feeding profits for arms dealers and corporate colonisers. The sparse lyrics are embellished with an extended guitar solo that has a definite metal edge, and everything fades for the spoken warning, “Mankind must put an end to war or war will put an end to mankind,” before the song plays out over a set of samples about current war crimes.

Just when you thought it was all done, a bonus song takes a well-aimed shot at people cashing in on punk, delivered as spoken word over a noisy background of spiralling chaos that emulates Crass.

This is a punishing, brutal, and powerful album that captures the ferocity of EOM at their best and provides a recognisable response to the fucked up society we are living in. It’s good to get angry, but it is human to feel beaten down and hopeless at times. However, giving up isn’t an option unless you want to become a slave. There is hope in “you and me to fix this fucked up society.”