Why I won’t be listening to any of the 183 tracks on Metallica’s Remastered Black Album
In previous writings, I gushed over the “Remaster Renaissance” of the 20’s. Each of the discussed re-releases offered a new way to listen to these certified masterpieces with the perspective of hindsight. From the complete overhaul of Muse’s Origin of Symmetry (XX Anniversary RemiXX), the absolutely legendary live set of White Blood Cells, and the alternate universe version of De-Loused in the Comatorium’s reconstructed demoes in Landscape Tantrums, each of these releases has breathed new life into these 20 year old albums. I got to live every audiophile’s childhood dream of “I wish I could listen to ____ album for the first time again!”
Nothing hits me right in the childhood like Metallica. They’re the reason why I love metal. Heck, they might be the reason why I love music. In my room, I had a desk, a dresser, a bed, about 20 stuffed animals, and a small boombox I rescued from my dad’s garage. About once a week I would thumb through my dad’s CD collection to search for a treasure to borrow. I had nothing to go on except for the album art and the sleeve insert. So naturally, I listened to a lot of Metallica. I especially loved the way Lightning, Puppets, and Justice all looked like they belonged together. The colors, the logo, and the four mysterious shirtless men inside.
6-year-old Michael lost his shit the first time he heard the Black Album. The songs were shorter and the vocabulary was simpler. I never knew what a Whiplash was exactly, but I knew it kicked ass. But in the end, Metallica was more music from my favorite band and that’s all I cared about (discovering Load and Reload taught me a valuable lesson at an early age: be careful what you wish for).
As an adult, I never felt inclined to revisit the Black Album in its entirety. Almost every track has been commercialized into the ground. I can’t hear Enter Sandman without thinking about being twirled about while going 76 mph on X2. Wherever I May Roam has made the graceful transition from power ballad to hip-hop remix. The Unforgiven and Nothing Else Matters have been overplayed to exhaustion and fall short of the emotional songwriting depth we know James is capable of in One and Fade to Black, that I think is more closely realized in Death Magnetic’s The Day that Never Comes.
In short, in order to capture my attention, a reissue of the Black Album needs to give me something I haven’t heard a thousand times before. Something that won’t get played on FM rock radio in between Fall Out Boy songs to protect their legitimacy granted by their boomer audience.
I regretfully inform you, dear reader, that it does not capture my attention.
The remasters of the original 12 songs sound untouched. In its defense, honestly can’t imagine how it could have been remastered any other way. For all of their flaws, at least Metallica have never been one screw around with their albums after release.
So the real reason to listen is the remaining 171 tracks, including interviews, demos, and live recordings.
I don’t have a problem with the remaster’s volume. My problem is the demos add to the album’s reputation of being cookie cutter radio-friendly pop sellout garbage. The demos are just…too clean. In previous Metallica album remasters, the demos sound like Kirk was waiting for his In-N-Out when he got struck with a moment of riffspiration and rushed to the bathroom to record before getting half of his double-double stuck in his hair. These 1990 demos sound like Metallica at the office. Nobody wants to hear 4 hours of Metallica at the office, except maybe James and Lars.
The live performances come at a strange time in Metallica’s history: they’re at the height of their power, touring the world with their angry new bassist to arenas that prefer to sing over James from their seats than jump in the pit. Metallica have toured and recorded an absurd amount of live material, and nothing from this period stands out to me. This isn’t the raw youthful energy of the early 80’s, nor is it as polished as more modern recordings like S&M and the downright confusing Through the Never, which is as meaningful to Metallica’s discography as Andrew Garfield to the Spider-Man franchise.
What I loved the most about the recent series of remasters if the stories they tell. I got to hear Muse’s ambitious, dystopian alternate reality, I got to pull back the curtain on how the White Stripes garage folk rock sounded in a borderline garage, and the missing puzzle piece in The Mars Volta’s fascinating transition from the post-hardcore underground to Sundance Music Festival headliner.
This Black Album remaster tells the story of Metallica making their music sound more appealing to a wider MTV audience and it actually working. It tells the story of the shift in pop music from the synth-laden 80’s back to the guitar driven 90’s. It tells the story of a band permanently changed by tragedy looking to conquer the world instead of pushing the boundaries of their craft. Alongside Nevermind, this album gave a blueprint for how rock and metal musicians can find mainstream success with their sound. Nirvana uplifted their contemporaries put Seattle grunge on the map. Metallica conquered metal in 1991, and it still hasn’t recovered.