Poor Metallica. All they’ve ever wanted to do is rock; all the vacuous wasteland that is the internet wants to talk about is Napster this and sell-out that. Even when the conversation does steer towards the music, the comment seems to be predicated on something the band did outside the musical realm: “Well, that was pretty cool, but since the Napster thing they’re dead to me…” Somehow - and I would be remiss if I didn’t say that boatloads of cash didn’t help - Metallica soldiered on and released their tenth studio album, Death Magnetic. The spirit is willing, the flesh is willing, but the big question here is “Does anybody actually buy it?”
It’s no secret that the members of Metallica are firmly entrenched in middle age. No longer are they drunk, high, and full of rage. This is important because that rambunctious and angst-ridden youth is what gave their early music its soul. If there’s anything important to metal fans, it’s authenticity. And Metallica had that in droves.
But they’ve gone from “No Life ‘til Leather” to buying Armani. They went from songs about war and destruction and the endtimes to personal therapy session. They have wives and kids now. What in the world could they possibly be angry about now?
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The record begins with a rather ominous heartbeat and a gloomy guitar line. After that the riff-fest is on. It seems to these ears that Metallica has used …And Justice for All as a jumping off point for this album – a theme repeated throughout the disc – though I don’t exactly have golden ears (or even copper, for that matter) so I may be wrong. “That Was Just Your Life” features vocals that aren’t really sung, but spit out by Hetfield. The guitar play between lead and rhythm works fine, but the chorus is weak. That is an aberration as Death Magnetic features some of the best choruses Metallica has ever written. This may be a death knell for metal purists, but this album has hooks out the wazoo.
“Broken, Beaten, and Scarred,” with its shout-along chorus, and “The Judas Kiss” are probably the best examples of the pop (I know, I know) sensibilities that Metallica developed with the Black Album. This is not to say that they don’t rock out – they definitely do – it’s just that these songs aren’t just mindless riffing over and over again. Metal fans may scoff, but I don’t really want to listen to a musical version of the Whargarbl dog.
A lot of ink (or type, I guess) has been spilled over lead single “The Day that Never Comes,” and most of it is negative. I can’t say I disagree here. It would have been fine had it stuck with just the beginning, as the ending just seems tacked on. Not to mention Hetfield’s vocals, which sound weak. I’m not so sure growling/barking the lyrics would have been very effective, but singing is not the answer.
The middle of the album features what could be considered oddities, at least as far as Metallica is concerned. The beginning of “All Nightmare Long” features a neat little guitar opening, but as with other sounds on this album that could be considered different, the moment is short-lived. It took until the sixth track, “Cyanide,” to finally hear some bass. And then we come to “The Unforgiven III,” sure to be divisive as any song in the Metallica catalog.
The song comes on, and my first thought is “Piano? In my Metallica?” It then goes on to have an orchestral sound complete with strings and horns. If you judge the song strictly on its own merits, it’s not bad at all. Song sequels are indeed lame – and I think the trilogy would’ve worked well if it were contained on one album, or perhaps its own EP – but this one just works. Unfortunately, though, it sticks out like a sore thumb on the album. I’m a fan of quiet/loud, hard/soft dynamics, but one and a half songs on an album don’t count as dynamics, sorry.
The album ends strongly with two of its best tracks: “The Judas Kiss” and “My Apocolypse.” The former features probably the best chorus and the best vocal performance (along with “All Nightmare Long”) and the latter reminds me of “Dyers’ Eve,” and ends the album in a blaze of riffy glory. Squeezed in between those two is the instrumental “Suicide and Redemption,” it’s not bad but not exceptional, and ultimately could’ve been cut but about three minutes or so.
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I wrote about
Death Magnetic is certainly a marathon and not a sprint. As usual, Metallica could use some sort of editor on some of their songs, specifically “The End of the Line” and “Sucidide and Redemption.” Part of the reason Master of Puppets and Ride the Lightning are considered a classic (besides the brilliant music, of course) is the fact that they leave you wanting more with their 48-54-minute run times. Once you get past that point, just about any album seems to be running more than a little long.
Despite all the hatred of Metallica, no one can seem to stop talking about them. Even indie tastemakers Pitchfork Media got into the act with their review of the new album. Not surprisingly, it was simply a more eloquent, sneering way of the old “WAAAAHHH!!! Metallica doesn’t want me to steal their music! WAAAAHHH!!! It’s not 1986 anymore!” And therein lies the best part of Metallica: It isn’t1986 anymore, but the band is still here. They’ve grown and evolved – much to the chagrin of “fans” – yet still seem to make good music. Call them old. Call them past their prime. But don’t you dare call them irrelevant, lest you’re willing to shut up about them once and for all.
So, what do they have to be angry about? The answer here, I think, is irrelevant. If the lyrics have any say, it seems like it’s their own mortality, which is a scary prospect indeed. Perhaps Metallica has grown past that anger they had back in their youth. Have you? And if you haven’t, Metallica may not have anything to offer you anymore. That’s your problem, not theirs.
Death Magnetic is a mostly great album. The riffs are solid; the choruses are catchy. I’m not sure what this means for the band: Is this merely and aberration of late-period Metallica? Could this be a swan song for the metal giants? Or is this – gasp! – a career resurgence? I don’t know. But Metallica has confirmed one thing for certain on this album: if they’re going to be taken into middle age, they’re not going to be taken softly. They will be dragged into it, kicking and screaming.
