Sepultura
Clocking in at just over 52 minutes, Sepultura’s Nation is a concise and visionary statement from a band that knows precisely what it wants to say. Ironically, that clarity might disappoint some fans used to this Brazilian band’s history of experimental song structures and global rhythms. The majority of these fifteen cuts are melodically straightforward (and even, at first glance, simplistic) songs defined by stormy waves of guitar, bass and drums. But that seemingly stripped-down approach serves a purpose. Nation doesn’t want to be flashy. Rather, it serves as an explicit social manifesto.
With lines such as It keeps me sane to embrace our will and go against inhumanity, Derrick Green’s battle-cry vocals call on Sepultura’s “nation” of fans to attack essential strategic targets: national borders, religious prejudice, status quo violence, political confidence games and the individual listener’s self-doubt. Though delivered in conjunction with the group’s aggressive backdrops, this vision is one of a newly peaceful and just society, fueled by the words of Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi, Albert Einstein and the Dalai Lama.
The complexity of Nation‘s social commentary is anything but academic. It is the real world complexity of those who believe in justice wrestling with the obstacles to achieving that justice, right down to the question of violent revolution as self-defense. Likewise, the music’s complexity reveals itself only in subtle ways, serving the purpose of each song. Flavors ranging from reggae to raga underscore the political questions. Jello Biafra’s cynical snarl guests as a politician who feels certain he can’t underestimate the people, particularly rock fans. Green counters Biafra’s character with faith that we can be what we want to be. On the penultimate cut, “Water,” the lilting vocal prays with the audience We are what we make of ourselves/One and all, live up to it. At this point, the band’s musical rapids have softened to a babbling brook of two bass guitars, an upright bass, gentle percussion and strings, brilliantly earning the gorgeous string-driven coda “Valtio.” This stately ending is particularly satisfying because what has come before has been such a thoughtful balance of form and content — ambitious rock without pretense.
