There is a story to be told within Metallica’s back catalogue of an evolving and ambitious band doing things their own way, their success marked by exponentially increasing time lapses between albums as they embark on ever extensive tours covering North American, Europe, Australia, Israel, Antarctica, the Vatican and Jupiter. So emotional is the bond between 26 years of beloved material and fan, the speculation alone of a new album’s place in Metallica history is a crippling event to observe. Even fans of 2003’s ballsy yet puzzling live studio album ‘St. Anger’ are likely to engage in a nod to the gods before embarking on Track 01.
It is however, an enormously misunderstood and blindly unaccepted fact between certain areas of the ’Tallica demographic that this is a band who make music for themselves, disregarding a wave of constant criticism since the release of their self-titled Spielberg-metal blockbuster ‘Black Album’ in 1991 to make the music they feel is relevant to them. Thankfully for us, in September of 2008, Metallica have found themselves back in a position to unleash a brand new metal assault upon on the world with their ninth studio album ‘Death Magnetic’.
What new then? Out with the Rock, in with the Rick. God-like production wookie Rick Rubin steps up as the crap-filtering get-on-with-it offshore father to ‘Death Magnetic’, replacing the gentle handholding influence of amicably evicted housewife Bob Rock. Not-new-anymore bassist Robert Trujillo marks his first contribution to studio-Metallica bringing and inspiring a re-vitalised musical chemistry between the band that conjures up comforting images of a legs akimbo Hetfield, thrusting out rhythmical chug at Hammett, who can only retort with frantic fingering amid a gentle sway. Ulrich bashes at his skins in tiny shorts, mouthing non-existent lyrics as Trujillo crab walks the perimeter, sporting pigtails.
At the end of August, the four horsemen revealed ‘The Day that Never Comes’, showcasing the first example of the new album with an interesting updated take on the split personality metal ballads like ‘One’ and ‘(Welcome Home) Sanitarium’ (deliberate bracket swap). In the final quarter of the song the aforementioned metal orgy becomes excitingly vivid and despite the awkward music video, provoking Hetfield to deny his lyrical interest in current war politics, the song was labelled a “grower” and set the style and anticipation well for the new album.
To quickly put ‘Death Magnetic’ in some kind of context, it is more the influence of previous albums, than any specific sound-a-like examples that doesn’t make this album a square peg. There are riffs to be found that ring bells of ‘St. Anger’, along with that pure venting power captured on the album that is unique to a band in their 40’s. We are also taken all the way back to many of Metallica’s 1980’s masterpieces, with most tracks on the album crossing the line at the 7-8 minute mark, generating a strong nostalgic warmth with the general song structure theme in ‘Death Magnetic’. ‘Suicide and Redemption’ is the cherry on the cake regarding this idea, bringing back the monstrous guitar driven instrumental. It may not stand eye-to-eye with the likes of ‘The Call of Ktulu’, ‘Orion’ and ‘To Live is to Die’, but there is definitely holds its own in the Book of Metallica.
‘Cyanide’, ‘The End of the Line’ and ‘The Judas Kiss’ are lengthy all out metal aggressors with no shortage of energy and vocal melody ideas. On the surface, riffs appear to be primitive, easily worked out by the young bedroom-performer metalhead upon one listen, until repeated hearings reveal lacings of witty time changes and a strong presence from each band member, that together, forms music only capable of this band. Hammett sheds years of unused creativity pulling off a welcoming and thrilling array of solos, leads and engagements with Hetfield that will be engrained in your head long before all the lyrics are.
Lyrics-ah are classic-ah Metallic-ah, riddled with obvious rhymes of the fire/desire category and a few cringe worthy puns that seem to be doing it for them lately. However, this is all dubbed forgivable come the appearance of new-tattoo league-leaders including the gracefully pondered “How can I be lost, if I got nowhere to go?” in the epically pleasing Unforgiven III and the discreet yelling’s of “Show your scars!” in straight-to-the-point pounder ‘Broken, Beat and Scared’.
‘All Nightmare Long’ is the leader of the pack as Hetfield sings about being hunted by past experiences after a superbly designed and dynamic thrash build up to an incredibly involving and point-along chorus. Hammett goes on to take full advantage of some groove-laded and motivational backing from the rhythm section to pull off some more highly complimentary lead parts.
A punchy ‘Kill ‘Em All’ inspired thrasher containing some novelty chord sounds results in an unusual but likeable album ender entitled ‘My Apocalypse’, before you take the briefest of moments to absorb and reload, before returning at the first track, ‘That Was Just Your Life’. Under a minute into this racy kick-starter you now find yourself with the mental space to rate this song’s live opener potential on the goose bump scale, where ‘Battery’ and ‘Blackened’ currently rule all. It passes with respectable marks, highlighting the only remaining testament to ‘Death Magnetic’ - solid integration into the live show, then in the blink of a beholder’s eye Metallica are back with a reacquired relevancy to themselves and modern metal.
By R.M.
