Metallica: Please go away

by Cosmo Lee

Is it true that “all publicity is good publicity”? At least one poll has concluded that American voters suffer from “Obama fatigue” due to nonstop coverage. Is there such a thing as too much publicity? Personally, over-exposure on Blabbermouth, metal’s CNN, has almost completely turned me off to the following: KISS, Aerosmith, Ozzy Osbourne, Guns N’ Roses, ex-Guns N’ Roses members, Megadeth, ex-Megadeth members, and innumerable pseudo-controversies (e.g., metal vs. emo, metal causing crimes, censorship, Ted Nugent).

What bothers me most is the coverage in anticipation of Metallica’s new record, Death Magnetic. Yes, they were once the world’s biggest and best metal band. Now they’re just the biggest. How they remained that way, even after numerous debacles – haircuts, makeup, Napster, every record after the Black Album – is beyond me. Some Kind of Monster probably kept them in the game. But the price was fatal. The film revealed them as humans, which worked marvelously for the film. But we discovered Lars Ulrich was not only a mediocre drummer, he’s also a rich crybaby. Once-mighty James Hetfield had serious emotional issues. Their mystique was gone.

This is crucial for metal, one of the most image-obsessed (and thus image-rich) artforms. Every great metal band has an aura, whether onstage or on record. It is a sum greater than its parts. Slayer aren’t necessarily gods. Offstage, each member seems generally down-to-earth. But onstage, they form that thing called Slayer, which brings to mind images, words, sounds, perhaps even physical sensations. Slayer get plenty of press; some of it’s silly, like the attention on Tom Araya’s family at the Grammys. But it hasn’t altered the fact that the name “Slayer” demands respect.

Metallica are another matter. You’d think that MoveOn.org were doing their publicity. With the Presidential election of 2004, MoveOn.org filled my inbox so frequently that I ended up hating them, even though I was on their side. Metallica are the same way. They made four of the best metal records ever; they are why I got into metal. Even after their missteps, I’m still curious (if morbidly) to see what they’ll bring. But I’m so sick of how the metal world has licked up every last bit of Metallica news like a desperate junkie. Here’s a 15-second clip: a riff! Here’s another! Now, a blow-by-blow description of the packaging! It’s embarrassing. Peeking in at someone dressing cheapens the actual outfit.

In the era of VH1, people inevitably want to know more about their heroes, especially fallen ones. But enough is enough. Some Kind of Monster already pushed the limits of over-exposure. The best press for Metallica’s new album would have been none. That way, they would have created it on their own terms. Not with cameras staring into the studio. Not with bloggers weighing in on every breath and fart. I realize I’m asking the impossible. Metallica can never again be a garage band. There’s too much money invested in them not to have a publicity blitz. But, man, is it distasteful. There’s no aura, only a fire hose of recycled commentary and bad fonts. What would the old Metallica, the one who refused to make an MTV video, think?

I will listen to Death Magnetic out of completism and professional obligation. But I will not do so out of curiosity. The press sucked that away several hundred blog posts ago. I haven’t even heard it, and I’m tired of it. It won’t stop calling. I’ll return its call in due time. Right now, though, I just want to tell Metallica: please go away.