Elektra Records - 1991
7.5/10
Despite taking the most significant leap in sound to date, Metallica would head into the ‘90s continuing the trend of fitting as much onto one disc as possible, marking the beginning of the most consistent error they’d make for almost every album following 1988 (I say almost, because it worked well on Death Magnetic). From here onward, it would become a game of “how much of this is actually good?” Metallica also sees the band divorcing from the thrash metal style save for a few songs, only furthering my suspicion that maybe it was never about whether or not they made thrash, but if they made good music. With all of this, we’ve reached the first album that actually contains fillers, unfortunately.
More on that later, though. Metallica still has plenty of songs worthy of praise, despite its reputation. The doomier soundscapes that made an appearance on earlier records get carried over to the ‘90s, usually at least helping the better songs on this. “Sad But True” is an obvious classic by now, deserving of that due to the layering of explosive riffs, jarring breaks, neat fills, and heavy bass lines laid down by Jason Newsted. There isn’t a lot that takes that to the same level, but more or less varies the idea into worthwhile hard rock songs. “Of Wolf And Man” and “Wherever I May Roam” mold into edgier, radio rock fun, which is also on full display in “Enter Sandman”; I’m just admittedly way too tired of that one.
Thankfully, the rightfully hailed production of this allows those songs to fit in nicely with the likes of “Through The Never” and “Holier Than Thou.” Both tracks would see the final remnants of Metallica playing thrash metal, however, returning to the point I made earlier, I don’t really think the latter is that great of a tune. In other words, it doesn’t take writing thrash metal to write something good. It screams filler more than anything in the first half, a label I’d also assign to “Don’t Tread On Me,” and all three songs that close us off. “The God That Failed,” “The Struggle Within,” and “My Friend Of Misery” are all completely void of any magic that made James and co. so mighty in the previous years. None boast anything truly bad, and I guess at best there are catchy moments, but the biggest thing that hurt this record is the obvious fluff.
That isn’t terribly uncommon, and it’s certainly nothing that’s going to sink an entire album; it’s just a very noticeable trait that I have to complain about. At least both ballads “Nothing Else Matters” and “The Unforgiven” were properly serviceable, raking in the same emotion they were able to cook up with “One” and “Fade To Black.” It’s just under a more radio-friendly aura, and like I said, I really have to give the band credit for getting all of this to flow consistently. They just really didn’t need to fill a whole hour like they did three years prior. It worked out way better with their general idea then, because nobody needs an hour plus of “accessible” hard rock on one disc.
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