Lou Reed & Metallica: LuLu 2011

This album is getting killed on the inter-webs. The folks over at Blabbermouth are having a field day, the comment board on MetalSucks is blowing up with Metalli-hate, and the Gossip Board at Metal Sludge is doing more of the same.

I get it.

This pairing is inherently odd and not for everyone. I would venture a guess that most metalheads don’t listen to Lou Reed and vice versa. The avant garde, poetic musings of Lou Reed are in many ways the polar opposite of the testosterone-filled tough-guy machismo of Metallica’s brand of heavy metal music.

They made the album anyway.

LuLu is challenging, noisy, beautiful, atmospheric, ethereal, and at times a total train wreck. It is also fascinating and frequently emotionally powerful. There are moments when LuLu sounds like Metallica, forty years into the future, being fronted by an elderly James Hetfield, who has a drinking problem and just suffered a stroke. For example, Mistress Dread sounds like Metallica, bashing out Hit the Lights, with some insane old man on lead vocals, randomly babbling about bleeding and fucking. This is when LuLu does not work — when the song is simply Metallica being Metallica, and Lou Reed being Lou Reed, both playing two different songs on the same song. Does that make sense?

However, when Metallica abandon their stock riffage in favor of more open arrangements and really stretch out musically into uncharted territory, LuLu becomes captivating — even breathtaking. This is when LuLu sounds less like a collaborative juxtaposition of diametrically opposed musical forces, and more like one cohesive band. The best example is Little Dog, a sprawling, open composition that is surprisingly poignant and vulnerable.

It seems to take LuLu a while to find its legs. The last half of the album is much stronger than the first. Frustration, the aforementioned Little Dog, Dragon, and Junior Dad are easily the albums highlights. Iced Honey sounds like the most obvious attempt to recreate a classic Velvet Underground track and is the closest LuLu comes to commercial music. 

Lou Reed’s lyrics and delivery will be off-putting to many. However, if you enjoy the likes of Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, and even the poetic ramblings of Jim Morrison, you’ll probably be O.K. with it. Metalheads are not. There are already fan made versions of LuLu without Lou Reed’s vocals popping up online.

LuLu is not for everyone. It is pretentious and self-indulgent. It is also worth a listen. I write a metal blog, but I am not exclusively a metalhead. I listen to almost everything, sans polka and most pop music. I may be the only person alive who actually enjoys LuLu. I even like it better than Metallica’s most recent studio effort, Death Magnetic, which I thought bordered on self-parody and sounded stock. I am certain that participating in this project will in some way influence Metallica’s next record. Metallica really needs to put their energy into making a good Metallica record, so I don’t know if that is necessarily a good thing. I can’t really recommend LuLu because I know most people will hate it. However, if you enjoy coffee house poetry, cinematic soundscapes, and Enter Sandman, you might find LuLu worth your while. 7.5/10

Overkill: Ironbound 2010

The “Big 4” of thrash metal — Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth, & Anthrax, just played Yankee Stadium a couple weeks back to wrap up their exhaustive two date North American Tour. Word is, in the Twitter-verse and elsewhere on the inter-webs, the show was a smashing (thrashing?) success. A little slice of heavy metal heaven for old-school ‘80’s thrash fans, if you will.

Now, I don’t want to throw a wet blanket on anyone’s devil horns, but this tour, while admittedly novel, feels about twenty years too late. Twenty years ago these bands were a four-headed monster of metal mastery, riding a career-defining wave of records like Rust in Peace, Persistence of Time, Seasons in the Abyss, and Metallica’s self-titled juggernaut. Fast forward to 2011 and the song is not quite the same. Slayer has morphed into a satanic AC/DC, effectively releasing the same record over and over again. Anthrax has suffered more lead singer & line-up changes than 80’s era Black Sabbath. Megadeth flirted with radio-friendly rock and alienated their core fans in the process. Finally, Metallica’s self-indulgent excursions into the musical wilderness of radio-rock, orchestral collaborations, and whatever the hell St. Anger was have ultimately left their fans exhausted and apathetic. Even an attempt to recreate past glory with 2008’s Death Magnetic came up lame.

One has to wonder are these guys even worthy of the “Big 4” moniker anymore?

I would submit, that the true “Big 4” of 80’s thrash metal is now Exodus, Testament, Death Angel, and Overkill. All of which are releasing contemporary thrashter-pieces that are among the best albums of their careers. Which brings us to the subject of today’s lengthy diatribe — Overkill’s 2010 magnum opus, Ironbound.

I honestly don’t know how to review this record. It really is as close to perfect as a thrash metal record can be. The opening track, The Green and Black is a microcosm of the album as a whole. It is an amazing track. A pummeling 8:12 minutes of metal featuring amazing vocals, thunderous drums, tight execution, sophisticated song writing, crisp modern production, incredibly fluid and tasteful lead work — I’m gushing.

It’s awesome.

Lead singer, Bobby "Blitz" Ellsworth gives a Herculean performance on this album. He sings high, low, menacing, and with a personality and energy that is all too often missing from modern metal. He sounds better than the “Blitz” I remember from the Overkill records of my youth. Simply put, his voice is badass.

Every track is a highlight. There are a few riffs that will remind you of other metal songs (Bring Me the Night borrows a riff from Diamond Head’s Helpless, Metallica’s Phantom Lord can be found in another), but the album is so damn good that you will forgive this minor transgression.

Overkill is one of those blue-collar bands that have been around forever but for whatever reason have not achieved superstardom. They have to tour. They have to write records. They have to grind it out year after year. They make enough money to avoid flipping burgers, but not enough to go on an extended hiatus or to become complacent. Maybe that is why their records are so damn good. They have to deliver to keep working. They don’t have the luxury of financial freedom that super-duper success would bring. They can’t afford to coast on past success and wallow in mediocrity album after album.

I listened to my share of Overkill in high school when I was a young, metal pup. However, through the years I lost track of them. Ironbound has succeeded in bringing me back into the fold.

I can’t wait to hear what they do next. 9.8/10

Megadeth: Peace Sells... But Who's Buying 1986

Somewhere along the way my hard rock and heavy metal musical tastes evolved. Like a beer drinker who now needs to smoke a little weed to get him where he needs to be, I found that as I grew older the hard rockin’ thump of AC/DC just wasn’t cutting it anymore. I needed something more. I had been introduced to Metallica by a fellow high school burnout who loaned me a cassette of Master of Puppets. I thought it was badass. I asked Santa Claus (mom) for Ride the Lightning and … And Justice for All for Christmas that year. Santa came through and as a result Metallica quickly replaced AC/DC as my favorite band. By this time I had purchased every album that AC/DC had put out to date. I loved me some AC/DC. Metallica however, was on another level. The music was heavy, fast, and dynamic. The lyrics dealt with real issues, not simply getting laid. That was always the inherent problem with listening to cock rock as a teenage boy; nobody was fucking me. I might as well of been listening to music about unicorns, leprechauns, and the tooth fairy because for this pizza-faced teenager, sex simply wasn’t in the realm of reality. Metallica wrote entire albums about alienation, revenge, manipulation, anger, & death. These were topics that spoke to me. I could relate. Music would no longer be something that just sounded great — now it expressed my feelings — feelings I lacked the maturity to express or even understand on my own. I had a voice.

Soon all of my friends were hooked on this unbelievably heavy underground band. We would scour the rock magazines and newspapers for any little detail about the band that we could dig up. The internet as we know it, did not exist. We knew that they just lost their original bass player to an unfortunate accident. We knew that they had just blown the mighty Van Halen off of the stage at The Monsters Of Rock. We also came to find out that they had fired their original lead guitar player and that this red-headed ne’er-do-well was now fronting his own band of thrash metal degenerates — Megadeth. The legend of Dave Mustaine was growing. As teenage kids without any real, credible source of information, Dave Mustaine’s departure form Metallica became the metal equivalent of Greek mythology. The story changed depending on whom you talked to.

It wasn’t long before I got my hands on a dubbed cassette copy of Dangerous Dave Mustaine’s second attempt at Metalli-revenge, Peace Sells… But Who’s Buying. I loved it. I can remember listening to it on my Walkman everyday on the way to and from school. It was heavy and fast like Metallica, but darker. The songs were more challenging to the listener. Master of Puppets was instantly memorable because of the hook in the chorus; ”MASTER, MASTER!” Peace Sells didn’t have obvious hooks. The song writing was complex… even jazzy at times. You had to want to like this album because it was going to take a few listens to click. For the most part Megadeth eschewed traditional verse-chorus, verse-chorus song structure on Peace Sells. For example the opening track, Wake Up Dead, kicks right in with eight lines of vocals, then nothing until the middle part of the song after several lead guitar solos and time changes. There is not any discernible attempt at a chorus. The same can be said of the second track, The Conjuring. No chorus whatsoever, just verses that continue to build. It isn’t until track three that we get anything resembling traditional song structure. Peace Sells, isn’t just a song, it’s an anthem.

”Whaddya mean I aint kind? I’m just not your kind.”

The lyrics are spit out in Mustaine’s unique sarcastic delivery. Many fans are put off by Dave Mustaine’s vocals. He does not possess the macho bark of a James Hetfield or Tom Araya. Dave’s vocals are closer to the punk rock snarl of Jello Biafra or Johnny Rotten, with a little Alice Cooper mixed in for good measure. Political and poignant, Peace Sells would become the trademark Megadeth track. Dave Ellefson's signature bassline would serve as Kurt Loder's MTV News intro music for years.

Devil’s Island follows and is as close to a traditional thrasher as this album will get. Good Mourning/Black Friday is the albums centerpiece. A brilliantly executed (pun intended), and morbid tale of a serial killers exploits, the track features some incredible lead work from virtuoso guitarist, Chris Poland as well as some frantic and jazzy drumming courtesy of the late Gar Samuelson. Like Wake Up Dead and The Conjuring, Black Friday avoids a traditional chorus, that is unless you consider Mustaine shouting “I’m out to destroy and I WILL CUT YOU DOWN” a sing-along chorus. Bad Omen, a cover of I Ain’t Superstitious, and My Last Words (a song about Russian Roulette) round out the album in glorious thrash metal fashion. Again, the material is dark. These are not happy campfire songs, unless the aforementioned campfire is taking place in hell.

For guitar players, Peace Sells is a veritable cornucopia of riffing and lead work to worship and digest. At the time, in what I’m sure was intended to ruffle the feathers of the mighty Metallica, Megadeth branded themselves ”The World’s State-of-the-Art Speed Metal Band.” They earn the title on Peace Sells. A band of lesser skill would simply be unable to perform this particular collection of Megadeth songs.

After my introduction to Megadeth via Peace Sells, Metallica quickly and quietly fell to number two on my list of favorite bands. I could just relate to Megadeth more. Rooting for Metallica is like rooting for the Yankees or Apple. It’s easy. They always win. Megadeth however, are perennial underdogs. I can relate to getting fired and having to start over. I've been there. I can relate to bad decisions and equally bad behavior. I can certainly relate to regret. I understand the desire for revenge — the motivation it instills. I get it.

In 1986, Peace Sells was Megadeth’s declaration of war. Despite being asked to leave, Dave Mustaine wasn’t going anywhere. 9.5/10