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"Enough's enough, enough's enough, enough's enough,
enough's enough!" growls James Hetfield on My World, track six on
Metallica's eighth studio effort St Anger. Enough was indeed
enough for Hetfield and co. A decade on from their landmark Black Album saw
hair trimmed and albums criticised. Bassist Jason Newsted left and
recordings on St Anger were delayed when Hetfield checked himself into
rehab suffering from alcoholism.
Added to this are 60 million album sales, money,
fame, worship, respect and middle age. What do you do?
The expectation on St Anger was enormous. Would it be
another lukewarm hotch potch of metal and bluesy country rock? Would we see
a return to old Metallica?
Eleven songs, 75 minutes and eight seconds on and
Metallica answer. St Anger is the fruit of a year's work which had gestated
from years of criticism, success and experience. Disjointed, uncompromising,
raw and utterly heavy this is Metallica's call to arms. A welcome return to
form, yet a flagrant and successful attempt at kicking the boundaries
outwards.
Beginning with the bonecutting thrash which defined
the genre, Frantic sets the tone for the imminent onslaught. The
production exemplifies the meaning of the term "stripped down". Gone are the
post-Black days of jaw-dropping reverb. The big guitars remain, chugging and
maraudingly furious. Yet Lars Ulrich's drums are noticeably toned
down, his snare uneasily pings, pongs and clanks. Speed has not been lost,
the drumming so incestuously fast that one begins to question how much
cocaine needs to be taken to get on par.
New single St Anger is an awesomely brutal son of
the Master of Puppets era, darting from all out megalomania to melody and
anthemic chorus: "Fuck it all, fuckin' no regrets, I hit the lights on these
dark sets..." shouts Hetfield at his critics, with just a hint of irony.
Deeply personal and direct, Hetfield confronts his
alcoholism. On pedal to the metal Motorhead-like Dirty Window, he
battles assumptions that rehab works: "I see my reflection in the window, It
looks different...this house is clean baby, this house is clean," before
questioning, "Am I who I think I am?...look out my window and see it's gone
wrong."
Invisible Kid suggests his struggle and the efforts
of those who cared: "I hide inside, I hurt inside...I'm okay just go
away...I'm okay, but please don't stray too far."
The gravely grungy riff-romp on Unnamed Feeling sees
Hetfield at his most honest, "It comes alive and I die a little more...I
just wanna get the fuck away from me, I rage, I glaze, I hurt, I hate, I
hate it all, Why? Why? Why me?" he strains.
It takes a few sittings to appreciate the structure of
St Anger. There are no ballads,
no solos or radio-friendly unit shifters - it averages out at six minutes a song.
Beneath the extended jams and stop-start staccato thrash bursts is an album
few would expect from Metallica.
It tussles between staying true to their
sound and taking what four men in a studio can feasibly generate. Forget
overdubs and intricacy. Old school fans will not be disappointed. And while
Kirk Hammett seems sacreligiously under-used, those epic solos
fittingly remain left where they should be - in the '80s. Though is a
solo here and there too much to ask?
St Anger, while not flawless, sees Metallica wipe the
floor of nu-metal and piss back on it again - the bonus DVD even does so,
featuring each track live in rehearsal. Like a simple polaroid, St Anger
captures a moment with Metallica at their most honest, creative and willing
in years.
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