With Death Magnetic, Metallica’s latest attempt at getting back into the good graces/wallets of their fan base, the band officially descends into the realm of the Rolling Stones of metal. The Stones, of course, have the stronger legacy and the better/more extensive catalog of songs. But both bands have four unimpeachable albums to their credit (the Stones have Beggar’s Banquet, Let It Bleed, Exile on Main Street, and Some Girls; Metallica obviously sport their first four) and, in essence, have only been recording albums as an excuse to tour since the end of their heyday.

The biggest difference, though, is that the Stones are aware of this; though they keep trying, the songs off of anything post-Tattoo You disappear from their setlist after their first supporting tour. They recognize that they’re essentially creatively bankrupt as a band, and just happen to have one of, if not arguably the, best back catalogs of songs in popular music history, so playing live until one of/all of the band members die is both a financial and populous-satisfying maneuver. Metallica, on the other hand, have yet to notice that their best years are now 18-20 years behind them, and that they’ve been making increasingly lazy and uninspired hard rock for more than a decade. Though their fan faithful (this writer included), the ones that were initially saved by their quartet of timeless metal albums, have been waiting for a rousing return to form even after the spectacular misfire that was St Anger, this album isn’t it. In fact, Death Magnetic boils down to one thing: new Metallica playing old Metallica. They’re not unlike a pack of middle aged dudes playing their favorite Motorhead songs at the corner bar, not paying attention to how sloppy they’re performing or that their attempts at recapturing youthful abandon are just really, really sad.

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I will gladly go on record as stating that Blood Sugar Sex Magik is in my opinion the most accomplished album that the Chili Peppers ever made. I felt that back when it was released to my tweening ears in September of 1991, and I still feel it today. Sure, the overwhelming commercialization of the band as a result of the success of “Under The Bridge” made it difficult for any die-hard fan (as well as then/now-guitarist John Frusciante, who abruptly left the band in ’92 to go on a serious heroin bender, then get clean and rejoin the Peppers six years later) to retain feelings of ownership over this once-underground funk rock outfit, but shit dude, music is meant to be free and therefore doesn’t everyone has a right to jump on the bandwagon?

No matter what, the Rick Rubin-produced album represents one of America’s most significant contemporary popular rock bands at their peak, and for a truly entertaining and enlightening peek inside its creation, you really ought to watch Funky Monks, the accompanying documentary about the recording process which the Peppers undertook in a lovely Los Angeles mansion.

If you’ve never heard this album in its entirety, a) go fuck yourself, b) get your hands on a copy, and c) listen to that shit from start to finish. Then d) go fuck yourself again.

Go here to watch Part One of Funky Monks; the whole doc is well worth your very stoned time…

-KW

Let the haters hate: Slipknot are a good band, and, more than that, they’re a good band that has show substantial growth from album to album – and their most recent release, All Hope is Gone, is no exception. Sonically, the record is something of a codification of everything the band has ever done, which means the Stone Sourisms (clean vocals, reasonably radio-friendly alt-rock anthems, moody power ballads, etc.) of Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses are here once again. Whether or not that’s a good thing, ultimately, will depend solely on the tastes of the listener.

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If you’re not familiar with Continuum’s 33 1/3 book series, you should be. Each entry is written by a different music critic and/or journalist, and each one is devoted to the study of a single, seminal album. There’s a wide range of types of music covered by the series – everything from the Beastie Boys to The Velvet Underground – but metal hass, up ’til now, been criminally unrepresented. There are entries for albums by Guns N’ Roses and Nine Inch Nails, but those aren’t metal bands in the strictest sense and, obviously, both groups have been wholly accepted by the mainstream; there was a book covering Sabbath’s Master of Reality recently, but, weird though it may be, at this point Sabbath are pretty much as accepted and unrebellious a metal band as we’re likely to get.

So D.X. Ferris’ recently release tome on Slayer’s Reign in Blood is the series’ first honest to God (or honest to Satan?) book covering a metal album. And it’s an AWESOME read – fascinating, intelligent, informative and insightful, you’re likely to blow through it record time, and then feel depressed as you realize you’ve reached the last page. Ferris not only takes a critical look at the album, making astute observations and pointing out little musical nooks and crannies you might have never noticed even after your gazillionth spin of the classic record, but he also managed to interview everyone and anyone who was involved with the album – from the band members themselves to producer Rick Rubin to engineer Andy Wallace to cover artist Larry Carroll and a few hundred other people I’m forgetting about – as well as loads and loads of musicians and artists who are fans of the album (Henry Rollins, Tori Amos, Gary Holt, and Paul Romano among them).

After I wrote this blog about Slayer and their continuing relevance in the metal world back in June, Ferris actually e-mailed me basically just to say “thanks” for the shout-out to his book. I asked him if I could shoot him some interview questions, and luckily for us, he agreed. After the jump, read what Ferris had to say about the process of putting the book together, things he learned about both Slayer and Reign in Blood while working on the book, and the state of Slayer today.

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