MASSIVE CRITICAL UNDERTAKING. INCOMPLETE. WILL FINISH AS (ILLUSORY?) OBLIGATIONS ALLOW.
Discharge. Anti-Cimex. Extreme Noise Terror. Doom. Driller Killer. Wolfpack(/brigade). Skitsystem.
There's your shopping list, all among the mightiest purveyors of the (even mightier?) d-beat (see above). When it comes to sheer, blunt power and OTT extremity, it is second only to the blast beat and double-bass drumming. However, in terms of pure infectiousness and memorability, it is entirely unparalleled. It can (and has) spice(d) up even the most unremarkable of compositions, turning what had once been relegated to mere filler into complete, rampaging brilliance. BOW.
The d-beat will always be associated with Discharge. Always. Easily the be-all end-all of maxed-out UK hardcore, they propagated the pattern almost exclusively throughout their early singles and albums (Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing; Decontrol: the Singles), and were the first, no question, to build an entire sound based solely around the utilization thereof. Bulldozing tempos and opaque, sinisterly minimalist riffs all swirled around gravelshouted hoarseness into a massive, towering concoction of unequivocated apocalyptic burl -- all entirely based around the d-beat. Punk had never heard anything like it, and thus crust was born before hardcore had even had time to properly gestate.
However, and perhaps surprisingly, Discharge certainly was not the first band to realize the prowess of the d-beat. According to Wikipedia, the Buzzcocks may have written the first song containing a d-beat in "You Tear Me Up" from their 1978 debut Another Music in a Different Kitchen. Several NWOBHM (New Wave of British Heavy Metal, in case you didn't feel like showing up) bands featured it as well: Diamond Head used it on "Helpless" (Lightning to the Nations, 1980), Motörhead beat the living fuck out of it on Ace of Spades (1980), and Venom employed it widely and wildly on their first two albums (Welcome to Hell and Black Metal, 1980 and 1981 respectively). Nevertheless, Discharge are (rightly) credited with both popularizing the d-beat as musical WMD and providing the inspiration behind its name (D is for Discharge.)
After the release and proper digestion of Discharge's earliest material, two separate but closely related sub-genres took up the cause and went to war armed either exclusively or, at the very least, substantially with the d-beat. Fastforward to Sweden, 1983, and the quintessential d-beat (as genre in purposeful and complete imitation of Discharge, mind) band, Anti-Cimex, was consuming vast amounts of alcohol and raising all sorts of glorious, sweet Hell. Taking the sound developed by Discharge and turning up the tempo, volume, and extremity several notches, Anti-Cimex unwittingly invented a musical methodology that has worked brilliantly for two decades' worth of musicians: when in doubt, copy Discharge. And it worked. Beautifully. If Discharge was the fragile, disease-ridden body of society prior to utter (nuclear) collapse, Anti-Cimex was the atomic explosion that rendered its ultimate deliverance. Waves upon waves of distortion hiss angrily around frantic, methed-up d-beating reveling in nihilism and the realization that life is genuinely bereft of inherent meaning: everything begins to crumble before ultimately imploding and leaving no trace of its prior existence. Anti-Cimex released a slew of 7-inch singles and one EP (Anarkist Attack, 1982; Raped Ass, 1983; Victims of a Bombraid, 1984; Criminal Trap, 1986) before finally collapsing under their own seriously sonic weight, only to briefly reunite at the beginning of the 1990s for a series of reunion albums (Absolut Country of Sweden, 1990; Scandinavian Jawbreaker, 1993) which, in this scribe's humble opinion, vastly outshone the initial releases. Muscling up both riffery and production, as well as adding a significant amount of dynamics and topping off the boiling, bubbling brew with a healthy dose of Ace of Spades-era Motörhead, these are the definitive d-beat albums in terms of purity and singleness of purpose. The d-beats thunder more deeply, the guitars rumble more heavily, and the whole concoction weighs in as more accomplished, more urgent and ultimately far more satisfying than any of the early releases every could've. When Wolfpack(/brigade) spoke of a D-Beat Odyssey, they meant this pair of records: they're both massive fucking journeys of the highest(, crustiest) order, the former a heads-down, no-nonsense battering ram serving to lay the foundation for modern, more blatantly metallic d-beat, the latter simultaneously more expansive and more stubbornly (Motör)meatheaded in its thrashings. Layman's: this time around, they knew what they were doing.
Let it be noted, however, that Anti-Cimex are merely the most contemporarily relevant of the Scandinavian d-beat bands, not to mention perhaps the most directly responsible for the resurgence of the genre in the 90s: many other Swedish bands emerged in Discharge's wake, some even technically predating Anti-Cimex and all putting equally individual, equally amped-up spins on the Discharge template. Mob 47, Moderat Likvidation, Skitslickers, and, somewhat later, Avskum all propagated the violently d-beating hardcore, (unwittingly) laying down the foundation for the much more massive, much more metallic prospects to come in the next decade. Several hundred miles to the east, Finland was its own hotbed of d-beating activity. It cannot be denied, however, that Anti-Cimex were the most influential of the first generation Scandinavian bands, providing both the impetus and some of the members for more recent acts like Driller Killer and Wolfpack.
Discharge. Anti-Cimex. Extreme Noise Terror. Doom. Driller Killer. Wolfpack(/brigade). Skitsystem.
There's your shopping list, all among the mightiest purveyors of the (even mightier?) d-beat (see above). When it comes to sheer, blunt power and OTT extremity, it is second only to the blast beat and double-bass drumming. However, in terms of pure infectiousness and memorability, it is entirely unparalleled. It can (and has) spice(d) up even the most unremarkable of compositions, turning what had once been relegated to mere filler into complete, rampaging brilliance. BOW.
The d-beat will always be associated with Discharge. Always. Easily the be-all end-all of maxed-out UK hardcore, they propagated the pattern almost exclusively throughout their early singles and albums (Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing; Decontrol: the Singles), and were the first, no question, to build an entire sound based solely around the utilization thereof. Bulldozing tempos and opaque, sinisterly minimalist riffs all swirled around gravelshouted hoarseness into a massive, towering concoction of unequivocated apocalyptic burl -- all entirely based around the d-beat. Punk had never heard anything like it, and thus crust was born before hardcore had even had time to properly gestate.
However, and perhaps surprisingly, Discharge certainly was not the first band to realize the prowess of the d-beat. According to Wikipedia, the Buzzcocks may have written the first song containing a d-beat in "You Tear Me Up" from their 1978 debut Another Music in a Different Kitchen. Several NWOBHM (New Wave of British Heavy Metal, in case you didn't feel like showing up) bands featured it as well: Diamond Head used it on "Helpless" (Lightning to the Nations, 1980), Motörhead beat the living fuck out of it on Ace of Spades (1980), and Venom employed it widely and wildly on their first two albums (Welcome to Hell and Black Metal, 1980 and 1981 respectively). Nevertheless, Discharge are (rightly) credited with both popularizing the d-beat as musical WMD and providing the inspiration behind its name (D is for Discharge.)
After the release and proper digestion of Discharge's earliest material, two separate but closely related sub-genres took up the cause and went to war armed either exclusively or, at the very least, substantially with the d-beat. Fastforward to Sweden, 1983, and the quintessential d-beat (as genre in purposeful and complete imitation of Discharge, mind) band, Anti-Cimex, was consuming vast amounts of alcohol and raising all sorts of glorious, sweet Hell. Taking the sound developed by Discharge and turning up the tempo, volume, and extremity several notches, Anti-Cimex unwittingly invented a musical methodology that has worked brilliantly for two decades' worth of musicians: when in doubt, copy Discharge. And it worked. Beautifully. If Discharge was the fragile, disease-ridden body of society prior to utter (nuclear) collapse, Anti-Cimex was the atomic explosion that rendered its ultimate deliverance. Waves upon waves of distortion hiss angrily around frantic, methed-up d-beating reveling in nihilism and the realization that life is genuinely bereft of inherent meaning: everything begins to crumble before ultimately imploding and leaving no trace of its prior existence. Anti-Cimex released a slew of 7-inch singles and one EP (Anarkist Attack, 1982; Raped Ass, 1983; Victims of a Bombraid, 1984; Criminal Trap, 1986) before finally collapsing under their own seriously sonic weight, only to briefly reunite at the beginning of the 1990s for a series of reunion albums (Absolut Country of Sweden, 1990; Scandinavian Jawbreaker, 1993) which, in this scribe's humble opinion, vastly outshone the initial releases. Muscling up both riffery and production, as well as adding a significant amount of dynamics and topping off the boiling, bubbling brew with a healthy dose of Ace of Spades-era Motörhead, these are the definitive d-beat albums in terms of purity and singleness of purpose. The d-beats thunder more deeply, the guitars rumble more heavily, and the whole concoction weighs in as more accomplished, more urgent and ultimately far more satisfying than any of the early releases every could've. When Wolfpack(/brigade) spoke of a D-Beat Odyssey, they meant this pair of records: they're both massive fucking journeys of the highest(, crustiest) order, the former a heads-down, no-nonsense battering ram serving to lay the foundation for modern, more blatantly metallic d-beat, the latter simultaneously more expansive and more stubbornly (Motör)meatheaded in its thrashings. Layman's: this time around, they knew what they were doing.
Let it be noted, however, that Anti-Cimex are merely the most contemporarily relevant of the Scandinavian d-beat bands, not to mention perhaps the most directly responsible for the resurgence of the genre in the 90s: many other Swedish bands emerged in Discharge's wake, some even technically predating Anti-Cimex and all putting equally individual, equally amped-up spins on the Discharge template. Mob 47, Moderat Likvidation, Skitslickers, and, somewhat later, Avskum all propagated the violently d-beating hardcore, (unwittingly) laying down the foundation for the much more massive, much more metallic prospects to come in the next decade. Several hundred miles to the east, Finland was its own hotbed of d-beating activity. It cannot be denied, however, that Anti-Cimex were the most influential of the first generation Scandinavian bands, providing both the impetus and some of the members for more recent acts like Driller Killer and Wolfpack.
Black Metal. Venom Hellhammer/Celtic Frost Bathory Sodom Darkthrone Horna/Sargeist Horned Almighty Blackthrone Order of the Vulture
If the simple 4/4 beat is said to imitate the rhythm of the human heart, then the d-beat takes this notion a step further and completely synchronizes itself therewith: the body moves involuntarily during its perception, be it via foot-tapping, head-bobbing, or, most appropriately, chest-beating. You simply can't help it: it's just that massive. It recalls all at once the galloping hoofs of warhorses,
MASSIVE CRITICAL UNDERTAKING. INCOMPLETE. WILL FINISH AS (ILLUSORY?) OBLIGATIONS ALLOW.
