Metallica return with a humdinger of an album recorded entirely in the key of H.
It is a new key they invented whilst in a particularly protracted group therapy session. James was busy not drinking in one corner whilst Lars yelled into a small Brabantia pedal bin about how misunderstood he was and Kirk looked on bemused as he couldn’t fathom why no-one had sussed he’s been playing the same rubbish solo for all these years.
Fortunately this album is as heavy as ever albeit we cannot hear an ounce of the rhythm being provided by the insanely talented [insert name of current bass player].
Whilst it’s not interesting in any way - it’s certainly worthy of note that all eleven songs on this masterpiece were written.
The cover art concept is brilliant - combining a picture of some sort with the name of the band (and the album title) - written in actual words - across the bottom bit of it, sort of in the middle.
Having said all that this album has a sort of menacing swagger and it leaves you unsure whether to adore it or hide in the shed and tell no tales. The riffs fly at you like those freaky monkey things in the Wizard Of Oz. Christ those things used to sh*t me up big time. What kind of weirdo puts that in a kids' film?
Anyway - where was I? Oh yes - riffs - it's got lots of those. Fast ones AND slow ones and some that change halfway through.
Did I leave the oven on?
Sorry - the album - yes - it's er....Metallica really. It is beige metal of the very shiniest order and the lyrics are about stuff and the drums are there too.
In short you should buy it because you are 38 and think you still rock, but actually you have two kids and a Mondeo estate and spend more time listening to Teletubbies and the Tweenies than any other music and so by comparison it still seems cutting edge. Goodnight.
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