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It’s official. September 12. Fall 2008. Death Magnetic. Brand new Metallica.
Hearing the new album title is much like learning the title of the newest Harry Potter months in advance so as to ponder its contents. “Death Magnetic” does not fit linguistically with the previous albums, “old” and “new.” It’s not a phrase, like “Ride The Lightning” or “…And Justice For All.” It’s not a double entendre, like “Load” or “ReLoad.” It’s most god-lovedly not a deity or a revamped city name like “St. Anger,” …at least let’s hope to Christ it’s not. “Death Magnetic” is something new.
There is one HUGE and GOOD significantly different aspect of this album. Rick Rubin holds the responsibility of producing it. You know Rick Rubin. I know you do. He’s responsible for some of the most amazing albums put out by a small army of bands…including Slayer, The Mars Volta, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Public Enemy, System of a Down, Rage Against the Machine, Johnny Cash, and Slipknot, for God’s sake.
For those that don’t know, the original Metallica producer was Paul Curcio for Kill ‘Em All. Flemming Rasmussen took the reigns from Ride The Lightning to ‘Justice. Rasmussen basically just gave Metallica freedom in the studio and let them do what they did naturally. From there, the infamous Bob Rock took the artisic overseeing helm of Producer/Desecrater/Manipulator/Shit-Tizer-Of Metallica. He brought the market to the eyes of the then up-and-coming metal gods. He took the “fuck you, mainstream” vibe of Metallica’s natural sound and threw it a bit by adding none other than…a mainsteam vibe. Metallica hit sextuple platinum record sales with the new sound and decided to stick with it. Thank you Bob Fucking Rock. They guys haven’t been the same since.
It’s not like they never tried to change that. After the departure of Jason Newsted in 2000 and the battle with Napster by drummer Lars Ulrich, therapy was what Metallica thought they needed. They also made the…new age?… decision to let their therapy be filmed. While interesting to see a rich megaband’s weakest moments and commemorate the balls (or lack of, however you respond to it) of the band to allow it, it was a snuffing glimpse for many metal-heads. The horrendous result of the therapy sessions was none other than the bathroom break of St. Anger that knocked even die-hards to their fuckin’ knees.
Rick Rubin’s utter wonder of a history in music suggests good things not only could be but should be in store for the new album. Surely Rubin knocked some sense back into the aging metal legends, right? The rumors are that Metallica is bringing it back to the old-school on this new album. This could be from the leadings-on that Rubin is doing much the same type of overseeing that Rasmussen did; letting Metallica do their thing…not allowing a sweater-donned therapist tell a metal band how to create. Let’s all hope for the love of hope itself that that is the case.
If Death Magnetic kicks some old-school ass, it could be a new beginning for Metallica. If it’s another shit-sandwich, a term Ulrich is fond of using, it’ll probably be the last thing we’ll ever hear from the metal behemoth.
Lollapalooza ‘08, as of print time, is just four hours old, and you are not there because…
1) Ticket prices were too high due to insufficient corporate sponsorship
Sure gas prices are a bitch this summer, but tickets… whew! How can we be expected to pony up $200 for three days of music unless AT&T, Budweiser, and friends lend a bigger hand and put their names in more nooks and crannies? Write your Congressman and as him to vote for more endorsements to help make tickets more affordable. Outright selfish.
2) Everyone there is just like you.
The experience will remind you that everyone else will also blog out it for weeks to come, likes the same bands as you, and has at least three songs they’ve recorded on GarageBand sitting in their computer at home just waiting to be uploaded to myspace.
3) You’re too old for this.
You won’t admit it, but even during the first three years that you did go to Lollapalooza, you wished you were at home with a margarita that didn’t cost a week’s pay, air conditioning and predictability. You went so you didn’t have to avoid eye contact w/ friends who would come back the next day and say, “Oh, I saw [this band], and [that band], and [this other band] rocked…”. But don’t worry - they secretly wanted to stay home all along, just like you.
4) You’re too young for this.
This isn’t a Phish show, so don’t expect to walk into Grant Park and magically get high, or find some dude hocking pot brownies and rough crispies. That’s what you go to shows for anyway, so stay at home and don’t burn through the political capital you have w/ your parents… you’ll need it when they find your poorly hidden stash.
5) You don’t know any of the bands there.
Wait, that was Pitchfork… you mean…
5) It’s not indie enough.
You’ve seen Wilco before, so who cares? No one over 21 really likes the Raconteurs anyway. It’s just too mainstream.
So that’s why you’re at home wondering what you and your friends are going to do tonight. Maybe a Lollapalooza after-party! But that’s kind of lame seeing as how you didn’t go to the party in the first place. Fuck you.
