Sic Semper Tyrannis

...And Justice for All by Metallica (1988)

A Random CD Review from the Stutzman Memorial Library
…And Justice for All by Metallica (1988)

There’s always been a certain stigma to Metallica fans. They’re the bad kids in high school- usually dressed in black t-shirts, greasy jeans, usually long-haired social misfits. At least that’s always been the image in my head.

When I was in junior high school, the one kid who wore a Metallica t-shirt frightened me. He was scrawny, so any other kind of clothing and he would have just been a regular kid. But something about that black t-shirt with the skull on it represented all that I wasn’t--rebellious, angry, wild. (So, it was a miracle that one day in the school cafeteria when we both sat together, eating pizza and fries.)

Fast forward about ten years and I actually heard this music that all these scary kids were into: …And Justice for All. I had read in guitar magazines that these guys were respected musicians. At some point I’m sure that this album was compared to the prog rock of the 70’s because of its ambitious, multipart song structures and extended instrumental sections. I needed no further reason to investigate.

In general I like this album, for a lot of the same reasons I like prog rock. But here’s where the departure begins…

I think this album is dumb. It’s also brilliant. Confused yet?

Once again, I’m stymied by contextual expectations. To one set of expectations—rock n’ roll in general, hard rock specifically and metal super-specifically—the music contained herein is exemplary. Every guitar solo on here is a tour de force of pre-Nirvana Eddie Van Halen-esque, off-the-scale technique and flash. The rhythm guitar parts are just crushingly heavy and primal, yet the drum parts are, strangely, a little more cerebral and complex, almost melodic, (certainly not to the extent of Neil Peart or his ilk, but still impressive.)

On the other hand, compared to other styles of music you could easily say that this is the sound of a one-trick metal pony—aggression personified in James Hetfield’s snarl and barbaric power chords. Just one song by any of their 70s prog forebears probably contains more harmonic movement than this whole album. It can seem almost formulaic: play eighth-note power chord riffs, sing toughly about something dark and philosophical, let Kurt Hammett loose for a weedly-weedly solo and end it.

But to say that this album is one-dimensional would be a gross exaggeration. In fact I was drawn in from the beginning of “Blackened,” (probably my favorite song of theirs), with the cello-like electric guitar swells. There is actually a fair amount of clean electric and even acoustic guitar sounds.

Have you noticed no mention of the bass? Jason Newsted’s playing is invisible on this record. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t play on it at all. In fact, the overall production choices they made are fascinating to me. There is really no low-end to speak of. Even the kick drum is mostly the clicking sound of the beater against the drumhead more than any sound resonating from the drum itself. It’s obvious that they wanted a very tight, controlled close-mic’d sound on everything. It’s a very interesting aesthetic to me- mostly guitar and vocals way up front.

Anyway, the only thing left to discuss is lyrical content, and actually- I have no real comment in this area. I know Hetfield talks about ugly things, which fits the dark musical content like a glove, but I really have no interest in that side of Metallica.

After getting to know this album as my intro to the band, I went back a step to Master of Puppets and was a little underwhelmed. Haven’t bought any since.

P.S. Did anybody see M Ward on Letterman last night? Very cool!

posted by Mike @ 3:19 PM