Well, here it is, kiddies: Metallica’s skull-crushing, bone-breaking, faster-than-the-speed-of-freakin’-light thrash metal debut. This is the one your mother warned you about. This album may cause uncontrollable fits of energy, headbanging, and moshing. Keep out of reach of children. (Give them St. Anguish instead… on second thought, never mind. No one should have to suffer through that…)
What makes this album such a metal classic? The pounding drums and rythyms? The violent cover? The shredding solos and riffs? A 20-year-old James Hetfield’s harsh, unpretty vocals? The controversial cover? Well, yes, of course, but one thing makes it even better (although Master Of Puppets remains my favorite): back when they recorded this album, Metallica were no one. They weren’t the (now self-parodic) juggernaut they would eventually become. They were four lucky fans who got together, played their hearts out, and had the time of their lives doing it. (Check out James Hetfield’s picture on the insert – he has acne!) You can really feel the energy coming from this record.
So, yeah, anyway, if you don’t have this one already, see to it that you obtain it (along with Ride The Lightning and Master Of Puppets, and, if you like, the black album and …And Justice For All). There are really no standout tracks because they ALL rock. If you can think of a better album to slap My Chemical Romance in the face with, I’d sure like to hear it.
Yeah, it wasn’t all that long ago that they were a little thrash band from the Bay Area…