Playlists & Mixtapes

Metallica and The Thing That Should Not Be

Posted on by edwardlayland

Metallica´s Black Album was a brave departure from the winning formula thrash of the first four records and resulted in stratospheric sales in excess of 30 million, making it one of the most important records in the history of rock. It includes some of their finest songs with the likes of Enter Sandman, Sad But True and The Unforgiven, and took their sound to a whole new level, catapulting the band to a status in the music industry few can hope to achieve. So, why have I never embraced it like the previous records?

Like so much of the music that I came to love in the eighties, I first heard Metallica while listening to the Friday Rock Show on BBC Radio 1. It wasn’t actually one of their best tunes, but with …And Justice For All set to drop that week, Tommy Vance played Eye of the Beholder and hooked me once again. I soon fell for all things Metallica and the Justice album became a staple of my teenage years and my gateway into their back catalogue. Although like many of their fans, it is the first four albums (+ Garage Days) that define Metallica for me, it was this period from Justice to the Black Album that really rocked my world – I bought the albums, I spent a shit ton on Live Shit: Binge & Purge; I managed to get The Good, The Bad & The Live: The 6½ Year Anniversary 12″ Collection; and even a US edition 7″ of One – I remember being excited to see the video on TOTP or the Chart Show. I also had the Year and a Half in the Life of Metallica videos on VHS. I could not get enough and it all culminated in seeing them at Donington Monsters of Rock in 1991 playing second fiddle to AC/DC.

However, there was something about the Black Album that just didn’t sit well with me. Sure, I loved Sad But True, it was heavy as fuck, and The Unforgiven was a masterpiece of song craft, so I didn’t feel like Metallica had sold out. I mean, it was obvious to all that they were moving forwards commercially and they were proactive in doing so, with James getting singing lessons, Kirk being taught by Joe Satriani, and hiring a more mainstream producer big enough to challenge the band to do better in Bob Rock. The result was a slicker sound and next-level Metallica – they were experimenting creatively and developing as artists – but that wasn’t the issue for me. It was more that some of the songs left me cold and, as I had the vinyl version, the record had a disjointed feel as four blocks of three songs. It was only years later, while reviewing Hardwired (https://hardpressed.com.br/2016/11/22/metallica-hardwired-to-self-destruct-album-review/) that I realized what the problem was – “their lack of capacity to self edit has made for an album with excess baggage“.

Metallica has rarely employed a philosophy of less is more. They have never been a band to give their songs space as, even today, according to Rob Trujillo: “We have more riffs than we know what to do with“. It seems as if they come from a perspective of building songs around the riffs, so the impression is that it becomes more about fitting a song to a riff, or multiple riffs, rather than fitting a riff to a song. Obviously, this mostly works for Metallica and they do, apparently, discard much more than they use, but there are clearly moments where the resulting song is just not that great, which is also not a big deal – all bands have filler. However, in my humble opinion, as Metallica’s bar got set so much higher than most, for the Black Album to be the all conquering record it is lauded to be, a few of those songs could have been saved for b-sides as they are simply not adding anything to the record as a whole.

Given the gargantuan success they have achieved over the last forty plus years, James, Lars and co obviously know what they are doing, but the fact that they rarely play live some of the songs from the album says a lot. I mean, the three tracks that I would drop – Holier Than Thou (nice riffs but vocally and lyrically poor), Don’t Tread on Me (awful), and Struggle Within (meh) – have amassed a grand total of 150 live performances between them. There are songs from 72 Seasons that they have played more often than the latter two. I would, however, keep My Friend of Misery for the atmospheric texture, the bass line, and how it fits the vibe better, even though it is another song with only 20 live outings.

I am not trying to say that I know better than Metallica, but as a massive fan, I felt sure that a bit of editing could make for a more enjoyable experience. So, I have reworked The Black Album in a Spotify playlist, cutting the three offending songs listed above and rejigging the running order for a more satisfying listen. I have kept what works with the big hitters staying in more or less the same position, but, for me, the second half now flows much better and doesn’t find me skipping to Nothing Else Matters before I switch off. Have a listen and see what you think.

Nöthin’ But a Good Time

Posted on by edwardlayland

Tom Beaujour and Richard Bienstock’s Nothin’ But a Good Time tracks the decadent rise and fall of the much derided 80s hard rock / hair metal scene. It weaves a narrative from Van Halen and early incarnations of Quiet Riot, through the dizzying success of Mötley Crüe and Poison and the birth of Guns N’ Roses, to the scene’s implosion with all the look-alike sound alikes power ballading their way onto Dial MTV. 

After a revealing introduction from Slipknot’s Corey Taylor (!) professing his love for the 80s glam scene, music journalists Beaujour and Bienstock create an oral history through old and new interviews and quotes from a broad selection of players from L.A. and beyond. It’s the words of those involved that paint a vivid picture of the scene and its shenanigans, whether it’s A&R wizards like Tom Zutaut, producers like Tom Werner, the bands themselves, the publicists, stylists or even the odd groupie spilling the tea.  

It was clearly a wild time marked by rampant misogyny and unbridled excess, and the book takes us behind the scenes into the rivalries and ridiculousness to reveal the last hurrah of a tribal music scene before grunge changed the mood, the internet permanently altered life as we know it, and phones replaced lighters. Love it or hate it, there is no denying that it was hard rock’s most vibrant period, and, despite the scene eventually disappearing up it’s own backside and having its coffin nailed shut by the Seattle bands, it produced a lot of surprisingly enjoyable, good, old-fashioned rock n roll, as well as a bunch of stuff that’s probably best forgotten.

The book reveals all kinds of insights, from Slash’s audition for Poison to Sebastian Bach’s performance alongside Zakk Wylde at a wedding that led to him getting the Skid Row gig, via Jon Bon Jovi’s parents of course! There are all kinds of interesting backstories, but the one big shocker is that some of these bands worked really hard to achieve what they did, living in abject poverty and dedicating absolutely every waking hour to making it big. 

The book can come across as a little he-said-she-said gossipy at times, but that’s hardly surprising given the overriding High School Musical vibe of the scene. Still, for those who grew up with an HR/HM soundtrack, this book provides a delightful romp down memory lane in a no-holds-barred exposé of the misadventures of the time. It has also been distilled down into a three part docuseries on Paramount+ that is equally good fun, featuring said interviews from a number of the key players. 

Now that there is some distance from the time, it is clear that despite eventually becoming a parody of itself, a lot of great songs came out of the melee. So, check out the Spotify playlist that I’ve curated to more or less chronologically reflect the book’s narrative.