Seek and Destroy

Do you believe in miracles? I don't.

For a genre of music that professes to be so against the grain, Metal breeds no shortage of cowards, followers and outright suckers who will each gladly buy into any hype thrown their way, paying out only to be mocked by groups long past their prime in the hope of validating a purely nostalgic desire. The Metallica phenomena is by no means unique; it’s the kind of self-perpetuating marketing campaign that most name-bands profit from when they’ve finally disappeared over the hill. Sometimes, often in spite of themselves, things turn out for the better. Most of the time, however, what’s served up is only a facsimile. A cheap imitation. A piece of shit.

Perhaps a small segment of those most easily duped are worthy of some academic group-study, but we’ll confine ourselves here to reviewing some of the latest responses from professional “critics” working hard to put the spin on Metallica’s latest record, Death Magnetic.

Now, the first thing you have to know, and probably have already figured out, is that music journalism is 98 percent bullshit. Writing about Metal, in particular, more like 99-100 percent. As long as you can seem excited in between opening and closing paragraphs your next press kit is as good as mailed. All you’ve gotta do is copy the flowery prose from the one sheet, name check the stated influences, dot the umlauts and send the little fucker on its way. It’s all killer anyway, and besides, it’s not like you can play something better.

OK, get creative if you want, but you don’t want to lose the reader. And don’t dissent too much. Sit on the fence; be as impartial as you can. Criticize if necessary but always focus on the positive. Optimism is a must. Ignore the voice in the back of your head; just sell it, man. Yes, you’re a whore. But, you really do love music!

Sounds easy, right? Truth be told, it’s not all so bad, but I’m still completely amazed that some people actually get paid for this shit.

Now as far as bullshitting goes, Pop Matters / Decibel writer Adrien Begrand is a master of his craft. The kind of balls-deep whore that doesn’t just write approvingly of the brave steps taken on the latest “forward-thinking” or return to their roots “comeback” record, but gobbles those promotional gametes down with a bright, beaming enthusiasm that belies his Kermit-like, boy-next-door looks. Shit is hot. If there’s anyone more easily impressed than Adrien Begrand, I’d sure like to read him.

Like most seasoned writers, Begrand is also a touch self-important and not a little bit gullible. So much so he spends a full paragraph laying out his argument: This super-rich, nearly corporate entity, namely Metallica, is something of an underdog when it comes to the vicious and mean-spirited music press.

Begrand views his defense of Death Magnetic as contrary in some bizarre way. He’ll hop on the gravy train. But, he won’t become just another bandwagon basher, no sir. Unfortunately his “damned-if-they-do, damned-if-they-don’t” scenario doesn’t really hold true for a band who can pretty much write whatever the hell they want and still make millions as long as they tour playing the same songs off their first four albums. At that point, who gives shit what makes it into print? For a band like Metallica, all press is good press; a fact proven time and time again. This isn’t exactly a group in need of staunch defending. But, our man Begrand is pretty happy to offer the reach-around anyway, and in doing so comes off less like the fair and impartial observer he wishes to be, than someone who doesn’t even slightly grasp the nature of his subject. To wit:

Carefully orchestrated publicity stunt or not, the leak of Death Magnetic has done wonders, for, brace yourself dear reader, this album is good. At times very good. See, the thing with Metallica has always been that from Day One they've been all about progress. Every single album, good or mediocre, has always thrown the music world for a loop, and each time Metallica put out a new record from 1982 to 1991, the entire genre of heavy metal was irrevocably changed.

Now, it’s pretty disingenuous to equate “change” with progress (whatever that means) right off the bat, but more important is this: If even an admittedly mediocre album (in this case several) manages to “throw the world for a loop,” what exactly does that say? Begrand’s almost onto something here – the fact that the music essentially doesn’t matter, being mostly a ruse to keep the brand in the spotlight, cunning stunts to sell video game soundtracks, bathrobes; ornate, special edition packages, magazines, television appearances and launch a new tour – but, naturally, he gets carried away by discussing Load and Reload in terms of a liberated exercising of artistic freedom. You might be gagging right now, but remember, Begrand’s a pro.

After proving his salt by rolling out some predictable and pre-ordained clichés that would’ve, could’ve and sometimes were just as easily trotted out for St. Anger (“all the cobwebs have been shaken out;” “they've rediscovered that spark!”) and then passing a handjob off to Rick Rubin (more shameless pro-crit ass-kissing, as common sense would have dictated the changes made long ago) Begrand reaches the crux of the problem, that of a band long past their prime, cutting and pasting select pieces of classic tunes passed off as inspired writing in order to finally give the fans what they want to hear (a maneuver more soulless and calculating than anything they’ve pulled in the past when you stop to think about it), and finally comes up with this sparkling nugget of high grade bullshit:

It would be easy to criticize these tracks solely because of how they're sequenced to reflect that classic formula of Lightning/Master/Justice, but in the end, the songs win out. They're formulaic, but that's just the point. It's a great formula, simple as that.

…

No, it's not perfect, but none of us were asking for perfect. We just wanted to know Metallica hadn't lost the plot. We'll go on enjoying this album, but we'll also have our sights set on the next album, as should Metallica. Good job, boys, you've got your groove back. Now it's time to raise the bar. And hopefully you won't take five years to do so this time...

Give that man a wetnap. Aside from the fact that a formula is only as good as the material put into practice, why is it so important for “us” to KNOW they haven’t lost the plot, again? I can understand this kind of reasoning from your average Joe, the kind of guy who stops into the record store maybe four times a year to buy the new Motorhead, Iron Maiden or Metallica CD on the way to picking up two cheese pizzas and four liters of Coke before coming home from his miserable job to his runt kids and chain-smoking wife. A guy like that needs a little rebellion to hold on to.

What’s not always so clear is why supposedly well-informed reviewers continue to take part in the circus. For the answer to that question we have to turn to Phil Freeman.

Freeman is a regular contributor to the Wire and Village Voice and editor-in-chief for Metal Edge, so presumably he’s used to being ignored on the topic at hand, however, a recent post on the Invisible Oranges blog is worth a look-see:

I've got professional reasons for being interested in Metallica (and for wanting other people to be interested in Metallica), but even putting that aside for a moment, I'm with Adrien on this one. After the way St. Anger shook out, there was no way they could win this time around - every move they made was gonna be second-guessed, analyzed to death, and read like the fucking Torah. It's impossible for Metallica to exist as just a band at this point.

Whores of a feather here, but Freeman is a little more honest about why people need to be interested in Metallica. Of course, as another reader put it:

If people aren't interested in Metallica, their new album, coverage of their lives, whatever, you can just as well cover some other band that they'd be interested in.

Your lips to God’s ears, my friend. But, setting that aside for a moment, note the tone of self-importance surfacing once again. The belief that a music critic’s opinion today is somehow decisive. Newsflash: Not yours, not mine, nor anyone else’s column will make or break Metallica. That battle has long since been decided and only the most naïve mind would claim this is anything but a win-win situation because there’s no way in hell the band will not reap a fortune from record sales.

But, even Freeman isn’t naïve; he’s just good at bullshitting. It doesn’t matter what kind of gutless or embarrassing shit they pull; Andrew Jackson is still laying face down on the counter come Friday.

Metallica is fuckin’ Walmart, OK? Freeman knows this. It’s in his interest to know this. But he’s gotta at least make it look convincing, thus his fightin’ mad early preview of the record titled “Fuck you, it’s great.”

Unlike Begrand, Freeman finds St. Anger more interesting now than when he first listened to it in 2003 and wrote the following:

“They're dressing up in old and ill-fitting clothes and hoping metal fans won't be able to tell the difference.”

How does one explain this change of heart? By resorting to the last defense of a desperate, paid shill: One simply has to have an open mind.

More apologetics about artistic vision follow with some soft-peddling of the fact that the album is merely a collage of once good ideas played with a watered down rock-‘n’-roll attitude. There’s a silly metaphor about armadillos and lots of talk about pain with Freeman doing one more about face and offering his appraisal of St. Anger as a kind of serious Passion play rather than the stuff of shitty Lost flashbacks.

But now we have catharsis, “release.” It sounds like a real band again (thanks to Rubin ‘natch). The songs are long yes, but “only a failure to edit, not weakness of fundamental structure, keeps them from being classic Metallica anthems.” Which is a pretty chicken-shit way of saying there’s a lot of filler on the record. But who’s interested in hearing about that?

Better give the readers what they want, no, need to hear. So after two listens:

Death Magnetic is very likely to wind up being my Album of the Year.

Nice. We’ll check back in a few months on that, Phil. But, for now, I’m at least happy to know that not everyone is “praising the cash cow” so quickly. Eric Teufel, who actually worked in porn, proves to be a more penetrating and plainly honest source of critique in these trying times:

Fuck Metallica, fuck anyone who likes any material they’ve recorded in the past 19 years and fuck any retard who claims that Death Magnetic is a resurgence of old school Metallica. You’re a fucking mindless sheep who’ll agree with any ridiculous statement that the band, and Warner Bros Records, publicity reps are willing to spout forth. I just want to take a dump on your chest, and while doing so telling you it’s a spa treatment and will leave you feeling 10 years younger, because you’ll buy into anything you stupid fucks.

[Todd DePalma]