Released: September 12, 2008
Metallica brought back the solos, the long instrumental passages, and the clean guitars that give way to frantic picking on Death Magnetic. The familiar ingredients raised a harder question: what could they do with them that they hadn’t already done?
Released September 12, 2008, the album put James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Kirk Hammett, and Robert Trujillo in the studio with producer Rick Rubin. Riffs branch into more riffs, choruses leave room for extended departures, and Hammett’s leads are woven back into the songwriting. Recognizing that approach takes seconds. Hearing where it leads takes most of the record.
“That Was Just Your Life” starts with a heartbeat and clean guitar before the distorted riff enters, catching on clipped accents. Hetfield crams words into the verses, matching the guitar’s restless picking, then opens out his phrasing for the chorus. Ulrich punctuates the turns with snare hits and fills that underline where one section ends and another begins. Even with so much happening, the vocal gives you a route through it. The changes have something to revolve around.
“All Nightmare Long” gets more mileage out of repetition. After the low, grinding introduction, the rapid chugging and recurring threat of pursuit make each return to the chorus sound like another failed escape. Hammett’s squeals and bends cut across rhythm parts that stay tightly coordinated underneath him. There’s a reason the song keeps coming back at you. Its length feeds the chase described in the lyric.
That connection is less clear in “The Day That Never Comes.” The clean verses, forceful choruses, and fast instrumental second half follow a route Metallica listeners already know. Once Hetfield stops singing, harmonized guitars and synchronized rhythmic figures take over for several minutes. Those passages are absorbing on their own, but the transition also exposes the record’s main tension: sometimes the band seems more interested in extending an arrangement than developing what started it.
“The Unforgiven III” gives the familiar framework a different job. Piano and strings open the song, and Hetfield begins with measured storytelling before his singing grows strained and direct. The lyric turns inward, toward a narrator who cannot forgive himself. That gives the sequel a reason to exist beyond its title. By the time Hammett moves into the solo’s rapid runs and high bends, the vocal has already established the agitation. The guitar continues an argument the singer has been having with himself.
Without a vocal, “Suicide & Redemption” depends entirely on the band’s handling of those transitions. Trujillo’s exposed bass opening, the clean middle passage, and the extended guitar leads give the instrumental distinct places to go. Still, across the album, there are sections where another repetition adds minutes without changing much. The shorter “My Apocalypse” throws that habit into relief. Its abrupt riff changes leave less time to settle, and the next idea arrives before the previous one has been worked through quite so thoroughly.
The original CD’s sound complicates all of this. Its extreme loudness and audible distortion crowd the guitars and drums together, making some of the playing harder to separate. Arrangements that depend on changes in pace and density have less breathing room than they need. You can follow the shifts, but the recording makes too many of them compete at the same volume.
What could Metallica do with those familiar ingredients? They could make the repeated pursuit in “All Nightmare Long” exhausting by design and give “The Unforgiven III” room to work through self-blame. Death Magnetic finds fresh uses for that older songwriting approach when the subject gives the arrangement a reason to expand. Elsewhere, the riffs keep coming after the song has made its point. The question becomes whether the next section changes anything—or simply gives them more to play.
Written by Rob Joncas for DeadNoteMedia.
Artist information and music courtesy of the band.
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