Some kind of Misfire
It's been a few days since my last post and, in that time, I got a chance to watch the highly anticipated documentary, 'Some Kind of Monster.' The movie had an obvious appeal to old and young Metallica fans. It offered a two and half hour scrying stone into the recording, infighting, and mindset of the band members, during the recording of their latest studio album, 'St. Anger.'
Now, let me preface this next sentence with the understanding that I was a HUGE Metallica fan for many years, because I will surely draw some ire. The three remaining members of the band are a couple of whiny, self absorbed jackasses. That's right, I said it. The metal gods are human, and bad ones at that. It's hard to know where to begin, so I think I'll start with the misfired scapegoat, Jason Newstead. For those who don't know, Jason was the replacement bass player the band recruited after long time friend and musician Cliff Burton was killed in a bus accident on tour in Sweden. Recalling the tragedy was one of the few genuine moments I found myself sympathizing with these aged rock monoliths. For me, Cliff's most memorable contribution was on 1986's Master of Puppets on a little track called 'Orion.' I read that Cliff was a huge Thin Lizzy fan, and most of his work was inspired as such. Back to the movie. With teary eyes, James, Lars, and Kirk recall the black iced night on the Master of Puppets tour, when Cliff was lost. My sympathy ended there.
Throughout the movie, Jason Newstead was depicted by the band and film makers as this ungrateful Judas, who felt he no longer needed the institution that is Metallica. James Hetfield remarks, "I didn't want him to have be fulfilled by anything else but Metallica." James comes across as this withering alcoholic, so engrossed in his own control and grandiose personal battles that no one should question his word. The guy is just a prick, during the hiatus between recording sessions he told his family he was taking off on a hunting trip to Russia. Oh, yeah, it also just happens to be his kid's first birthday. Then, he has the gall to whine on camera about how he missed his family and wished he could have been there. Well Fuck you James, I hope that kid grows up and smashes every gold record you've ever made, then starts his own band to surpass everything Metallica was in puerile revenge.
The truth, from Jason's own mouth, was that Metallica was no longer totally about music. The demands of ego, business, and family were taking away from the ultimate goal of fist pumping, hard rock. I got a little smirk out of hearing Jason say that, "it was lame that we had to hire a psychologist to work out the problems within the band. It's weak that after all we've been through, we can't get through this on our own." He was right, it IS lame for Metallica to be seeing a shrink, despite what all the fanboys say. Later on, they even tried to pin the missing bass guitars on Jason, when new bass player Robert Trujillo signed on with the band. "When Jason left, he took his bass' with im." One of the techs remarked. Well, no shit, if they were his instruments he's not just going to leave thousands of dollars worth of equipment just because it's Metallica.
What really stood out as an insult to me, though, was at the 2003 Mtv Icon ceremony where Robert Trujillo was on the Dais, despite being in the band for just over 15 minutes. I can't recall if Jason was in the audience, but hell, if I was him, I would have stayed the Fuck home. What insult, to play with a band for fifteen years, be put through months of hazing from some booze soaked mourners desperately coping with their loss through hate and ostracism, yet loving the music and the band so much that you become the heart and soul of the it. (No, Bob Rock, the heart and soul of Metallica wasn't the three members you were sitting next to, it died sometime after the Black album.)
It was incredible to see a guy that gave his life to music and Metallica bumped for a pledgeling that got a $1 million dollar sign on bonus. (Yep, it's in the movie) Jason is by no means a saint, or savior to Rock and Roll, I've heard some of his Echo Brain stuff and it's decent at best. He just really got the shaft in this movie.
The in-fighting between Lars and James played out like a bad episode of cops from the trailer parks of western Texas. James is this alcoholic, control-freak dad under the delusion he still has it, Lars is the demure mom who runs the show behind his drunken face, and in the corner is lil' Kirky who whimpers, "don't we have better things to do than argue?" and looks away in order to avoid conflict. Lars even talks a bit about the Napster debacle and subsequent backlash from fans. The flash animation they threw in, coupled with the fans shattering Metallica CD's outside of the courthouse made me chuckle. We really should've never made this guy famous.
When the credits began to roll I had this dawning realization. Metallica, one of my favorite bands of all time, had grown up, their alcohol and angst fueled juvenile "fuck you we're gonna play as loud and obnoxiously as we want" image was gone. I always said that the worst thing Metallica ever did was get sober and, unfortunately, I was right. If they would've worked a little harder on St. Anger, it might have been awful. During the writing sessions, you see them all gathered together for this therapeutic rhyming to try to piece together a song. There was no singular vision or black dream from which songs like, "The Thing that Should not Be" flowed. It's just four middle aged dads desperately trying to stay in the lucrative business of being cool.
Now, let me preface this next sentence with the understanding that I was a HUGE Metallica fan for many years, because I will surely draw some ire. The three remaining members of the band are a couple of whiny, self absorbed jackasses. That's right, I said it. The metal gods are human, and bad ones at that. It's hard to know where to begin, so I think I'll start with the misfired scapegoat, Jason Newstead. For those who don't know, Jason was the replacement bass player the band recruited after long time friend and musician Cliff Burton was killed in a bus accident on tour in Sweden. Recalling the tragedy was one of the few genuine moments I found myself sympathizing with these aged rock monoliths. For me, Cliff's most memorable contribution was on 1986's Master of Puppets on a little track called 'Orion.' I read that Cliff was a huge Thin Lizzy fan, and most of his work was inspired as such. Back to the movie. With teary eyes, James, Lars, and Kirk recall the black iced night on the Master of Puppets tour, when Cliff was lost. My sympathy ended there.
Throughout the movie, Jason Newstead was depicted by the band and film makers as this ungrateful Judas, who felt he no longer needed the institution that is Metallica. James Hetfield remarks, "I didn't want him to have be fulfilled by anything else but Metallica." James comes across as this withering alcoholic, so engrossed in his own control and grandiose personal battles that no one should question his word. The guy is just a prick, during the hiatus between recording sessions he told his family he was taking off on a hunting trip to Russia. Oh, yeah, it also just happens to be his kid's first birthday. Then, he has the gall to whine on camera about how he missed his family and wished he could have been there. Well Fuck you James, I hope that kid grows up and smashes every gold record you've ever made, then starts his own band to surpass everything Metallica was in puerile revenge.
The truth, from Jason's own mouth, was that Metallica was no longer totally about music. The demands of ego, business, and family were taking away from the ultimate goal of fist pumping, hard rock. I got a little smirk out of hearing Jason say that, "it was lame that we had to hire a psychologist to work out the problems within the band. It's weak that after all we've been through, we can't get through this on our own." He was right, it IS lame for Metallica to be seeing a shrink, despite what all the fanboys say. Later on, they even tried to pin the missing bass guitars on Jason, when new bass player Robert Trujillo signed on with the band. "When Jason left, he took his bass' with im." One of the techs remarked. Well, no shit, if they were his instruments he's not just going to leave thousands of dollars worth of equipment just because it's Metallica.
What really stood out as an insult to me, though, was at the 2003 Mtv Icon ceremony where Robert Trujillo was on the Dais, despite being in the band for just over 15 minutes. I can't recall if Jason was in the audience, but hell, if I was him, I would have stayed the Fuck home. What insult, to play with a band for fifteen years, be put through months of hazing from some booze soaked mourners desperately coping with their loss through hate and ostracism, yet loving the music and the band so much that you become the heart and soul of the it. (No, Bob Rock, the heart and soul of Metallica wasn't the three members you were sitting next to, it died sometime after the Black album.)
It was incredible to see a guy that gave his life to music and Metallica bumped for a pledgeling that got a $1 million dollar sign on bonus. (Yep, it's in the movie) Jason is by no means a saint, or savior to Rock and Roll, I've heard some of his Echo Brain stuff and it's decent at best. He just really got the shaft in this movie.
The in-fighting between Lars and James played out like a bad episode of cops from the trailer parks of western Texas. James is this alcoholic, control-freak dad under the delusion he still has it, Lars is the demure mom who runs the show behind his drunken face, and in the corner is lil' Kirky who whimpers, "don't we have better things to do than argue?" and looks away in order to avoid conflict. Lars even talks a bit about the Napster debacle and subsequent backlash from fans. The flash animation they threw in, coupled with the fans shattering Metallica CD's outside of the courthouse made me chuckle. We really should've never made this guy famous.
When the credits began to roll I had this dawning realization. Metallica, one of my favorite bands of all time, had grown up, their alcohol and angst fueled juvenile "fuck you we're gonna play as loud and obnoxiously as we want" image was gone. I always said that the worst thing Metallica ever did was get sober and, unfortunately, I was right. If they would've worked a little harder on St. Anger, it might have been awful. During the writing sessions, you see them all gathered together for this therapeutic rhyming to try to piece together a song. There was no singular vision or black dream from which songs like, "The Thing that Should not Be" flowed. It's just four middle aged dads desperately trying to stay in the lucrative business of being cool.
posted by Mike at 2:09 PM
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