Rage Against The Machine

Japanese 12 track import only collection features the rare cuts 'Darkness Of Greed', 'Clear The Lane' & a live cover of N.W.A.'s 'Fuck Tha Police', plus nine other rare & live tracks. 1997 Sony release.

Import only three-disc collects the albums, Evil Empire, Rage Against the Machine and Battle of Los Angeles. Three standard jewel cases housed in a slip case. Sony.

If Renegades proves to be the last Rage Against the Machine album to feature singer Zack de la Rocha, who quit the band after nine years, it's a cool way to go out. Produced by Rick Rubin, Renegades is a salute to the artists who made Rage what they are--or were. While it's easy to hear Rage's rap roots in songs from Afrika Bambaataa, EPMD, and Volume 10, it's more interesting to see their take on rock in its classic and punk forms. Rage capture the raw spirit, if not the quite the intensity, inherent in the MC5 classic "Kick Out the Jams." A superior second live take appears at the CD's end, followed by a concert version of Cypress Hill's "How I Could Just Kill a Man," with help from B-Real and Sen Dog. Devo's "Beautiful World" is rendered quietly unrecognizable, while Minor Threat's "In My Eyes" is given a wonderfully melodic, ultra-aggro treatment. The Rolling Stones' "Street Fighting Man" takes on a techno vibe that's unsettling and Bob Dylan's "Maggie's Farm" is also effectively modernized. Ultimately, Renegades is a must-have for its song selection, musical execution, and the unhappy fact that it's likely the ultimate offering from one of rock's most musically and politically relevant lineups. --Katherine Turman

Having successfully fused music and politics from their start, inspiring both moshing and young minds in the process, Rage Against the Machine emerges in peak form with merely their third album in seven years. Guitarist Tom Morello is one of the most distinctive and innovative players of his era, and his foil, vocalist/lyricist Zack De La Rocha, is as unrelenting and inspiring as ever on The Battle of Los Angeles. Rage, whose past antics include performing naked with duct tape over their mouths to protest censorship, released Battle on Election Day, but the politics of the group can be separated from the sounds. Indeed, the 45 minutes of mayhem heard here can be enjoyed solely as rousing aggro hip-hop rock. There's more variety found on Battle than on its predecessors, however. "Sleep Now in the Fire" is one of their most straight-ahead rock tunes. The trippy guitar on "Calm Like a Bomb" is out there even for the adventurous Morello. And "Born a Broken Man" serves up lovely musical interludes. Overall, the more finely honed Rage heard on Battle may not inspire a generation of young revolutionaries, but they still stir up more mutinous spirit than the rest of the current rock pack. --Katherine Turman

As the vitriol spewed from Evil Empire, Rage Against the Machine's long-awaited follow up to their 1993 debut owes much to Chuck D.'s polemic fury and rapid-fire urgency--though as always the band rages without hip-hop machinery in favor of the heavy-duty power tools of rock. But no matter if Rage against the Machine amounts to revolutionary rap, protest metal, or a combination of the two, the band's command of sonic rage makes Evil Empire a powerful assault in any musical language.

But wait, there's more to the name. Raging against the machine, like yelling at the TV, is woefully misdirected. Lyricist Zack de la Rocha is clearly someone with strong political views--particularly when it comes to the plight of fellow Mexicans on both sides of the border. He vents his indignation sharply at times ("Vietnow," "Without a Face"), rather clumsily and artlessly most others. Music this angry should be aimed at something more specific than an entire race or nation or government, or else it risks sounding like the empty rants of confused postpubescent rebellion. If only Rage against the Machine's raw musical muscles were grinding over a focused message, lord knows how potent they could be. --Roni Sarig

Digipak reissue of 1992 album. 2001.