After unilaterally disarming themselves for years, the heavy-metal, Napster-bashing Metallica is back to full nuclear-strike capability with “Death Magnetic.”
Proving that they are still the undisputed masters of metal and still have plenty of teeth, talons and toughness to tear many of their contemporaries apart, the San Francisco quartet hasn’t shown this much muscle, menace or mettle since 1986’s “Master of Puppets.”
With its 10 tracks clocking in at 75 minutes, Metallica’s 10th studio disc rocks with visceral rage and reckless abandon that we knew the band was capable of but has been avoiding for far too long. With their long-absent, full-throttle, take-no-prisoners, seek-and-destroy mission once again intact, Metallica — singer-rhythm guitarist James Hetfield, lead guitarist Kirk Hammett, new bassist Rob Trujillo and drummer Lars Ulrich — promises to unleash all its metal fury Jan. 17 at the TD Banknorth Garden, Boston.
Showing that Metallica is not ready to slip off this mortal coil anytime soon, a beeping, intensive-care heart monitor gives way to an adrenaline-pumping, kick-in-the-pants barrage of crunchy power chords and pummeling drum beats on the anti-Frank Capra opus, “That Was Just Your Life.” Not much of a people person, Hetfield wishes ill will on everyone (and I mean everyone) he holds responsible for his hellish, horrible existence. His downtrodden lyrics work better when you catch them only in snippets, which is the case here because one is too engrossed in the all-out blitzkrieg that’s raging all around him. Ulrich sounds like he’s pounding the skins until they (and himself) are a bloody pulp while Hammett’s snarling, staccato guitar solo practically restores the mighty Metallica to its metal maelstrom glory and reminds of us of his guitar god/guitar devil status.
There’s something soothing and reassuring about Hetfield howling, “You reached the end of the line” on, you guessed it, “The End of the Line.” But he also wallows in his self-misery a little bit much. Roaring out a series of nonsensical nihilistic pairings such as “tainted misery,” “chemical affinity,” “snuff reality,” “karma amputee” and “incinerate celebrity,” Hetfield sounds like he stole Trent Reznor’s diary, shoved it into a shredder and haphazardly cut-and-pasted the remnants. However, the tension (whether genuine or contrived) is heightened by the unflinching, unmerciful instrumentation that sneaks up on you and eventually smothers you like a cold serpent.
On “Broken, Beat and Scarred,” Hetfield badly paraphrases Nietzsche with the bumbling battle cry, “What don’t kill you will make you more strong.” That might be true but it doesn’t make you any more grammatically correct, now does it? There seems to be more emphasis on Hetfield’s lyrics here than the two previous outings, which is a bit of a mistake because it sounds like a commercial jingle for some demonic chewing gum, rather than a rousing call to arms. But bad English and cliché nihilism aside, Hammett’s fiery guitar solos sound like they have the power to incinerate the song’s lyrical shortcomings, as well as scorch the surface of the Earth.
Narrative-wise, the domestic abuse ditty “The Day That Never Comes” is the disc’s most harrowing opus because it hits so close to home and deals with real-life monsters that usually hide in plain sight. Once again wrestling with father issues (while, once again, revisiting “One” from “And Justice for All”), Hetfield warmly croons his disturbing lyrics and then unflinchingly snarls the unnerving chorus. As the song’s combustible, claustrophobic mix builds and eventually blows up, the listener’s senses are sonically bombarded by a symbolic representation of being bruised and battered and the lingering aftereffects.
“All Nightmare Long” continues the nocturnal moodiness of “Enter Sandman” and serves up another misanthropic musical playground for demons of our subconscious to run amuck. Here, Hetfield speaks, sings, spits and snarls like a knife-welding psychopath hiding in your closet until you fall asleep, while Hammett lets his fingers do the stalking with his jarring guitar solo that is awe-inspiring and goose-pimply all at the same time.
“The Unforgiven” was an interesting little opus and pleasant surprise from the “Black Album,” while “The Unforgiven II” was a needless sequel that offered nothing new to the original. And “The Unforgiven III,” which is featured here, is the worst of the lot. While the opening tickling of the ivories and schmaltzy strings test the listener’s patience, the lyrics will put you over the edge. True, there’s plenty of crunch and munch in the mix but not enough to salvage the song for its outpouring of melodramatic drivel.
Metallica is on a Sodom-and-Gomorrah mission to flatten everything in its path (and it does just that) on “Judas Kiss.” With an unrelenting onslaught of booming power chords and bone-crunching percussion, Hetfield orders, “Bow down/Surrender into me/Submit infectiously/Sanctify your demons/Into abyss/You don’t exist/Cannot resist/The Judas Kiss.” It’s been a while since the prospect of selling one’s soul for rock ’n’ roll sounded as enticing and, in a good way, ear-splitting as this.
The over-inflated, 10-minute instrumental “Suicide & Redemption” sounds like a hellish hodgepodge of all the menacing riffs Metallica didn’t have time to write lyrics for. Resembling a “Guitar Hero” game program on shuffle, skip and repeat mode, the riffs are haphazardly strung together with little rhyme or reason (other than that they are heavy) and, in the end, the track might make you bang your head for all of the wrong reasons. True, there are plenty of fire and brimstone assaults here but there are also moments of cheesy, ’80s guitar grandiosity that evoke images of Maverick and Goose flying their F-14s into the wild blue yonder.
Metallica quickly redeems itself with the day-of-reckoning closer, “My Apocalypse.” Although, lyrically, the song seems to suffer from acid reflux, sonically this hot-magma, speed-metal opus erupts like a raging volcano. By the time Hetfield declares, “Feel thy name as Hell awakens/Destiny, inhale the fire,” not only has he stirred up the hounds of hell, they are trembling in fear
Source : http://www.telegram.com/article/20080928/COLUMN17/809280461
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