Home Music Megadeth: The Retrospective Review Part II
Megadeth: The Retrospective Review Part II

Megadeth: The Retrospective Review Part II

0
0

PART 2 – Symphony Of Destruction

Rust In Peace (Capitol/EMI, 1990-91)

By 1990 Megadeth had looked like they were on their last legs as a band; destined to burn out if not to actually die. But a refreshed lineup – both Slash and Dimebag Darrell flirted with the guitar slot vacated by Jeff Young before Marty Friedman signed on, while drum-tech Nick Menza took Chuck Behler’s seat in the same way Behler had taken Gar Samuelson’s before him – and a stint in rehab for Dave Mustaine saw the band alive and kicking yet again, producing what is quite simply the most consistent, involving and exciting record Megadeth has ever put out.

 

An ultra-fast blitz of thrash with a prog edge, Rust In Peace delivers all the things Megadeth fans love, and adds more weapons to an already pretty varied arsenal. Holy Wars…The Punishment Due combines political statement with comic book adventure, Hangar 18 brims with outer space atmosphere, while live staple Tornado Of Souls shows a burgeoning hard rock sensibility and some catchy songwriting that would come to elevate the band’s popularity on future recordings. All this without losing a shred of their usual dark and brutal edge, with Take No Prisoners and the title track providing all the headbanging aggression a metalhead could need.

The production lacks the meatiness of other releases that decade (not least Metallica’s Black Album) but the power of the music and tightness of the performances shine through, making for an undeniably brilliant record. After this came out, Megadeth made a huge stylistic shift, and with good reason; following up an album of this quality with something similar would have been very difficult.

Countdown To Extinction (Capitol/EMI, 1992-93)

The 90s music scene was all about focus, heaviness and economic arrangements. Metal of the time was mostly short, to the point and produced within an inch of its life. It seemed that both bands and producers were looking to make the perfect metal album. While it’s arguable whether or not it makes that particular grade, Countdown To Extinction certainly borders on perfection, not only in its production – according to Mustaine, all the guitar parts were run through a tuner to make them extra-perfect – but in style, substance and content.

Whether it be the superior thrash of Skin O’ My Teeth and High Speed Dirt, the twisting, mid-tempo chunk of Symphony Of Destruction and Architecture Of Aggression, or the anthemic stadium-metal of This Was My Life, Foreclosure Of A Dream and the title track, there’s something for everyone on this record. Mustaine’s vocals sound as good as they had ever been to that point, and both the band’s playing and the production (from Ozzy desk-jockey Max Norman) are as tight as a commando’s haircut.

The high band energy on display and the technical perfection lift every track on the album, so the most wayward arrangements, like those of Captive Honour and Rust In Peace off-cut Ashes In Your Mouth, feel as if every single moment is designed for maximum listener enjoyment. Even tracks like Sweating Bullets and Psychotron, which have the potential to be mere album filler, burn with invention and pure fist-in-the-air metal thrills, and a standard of songwriting that is both immediate and intricate, thought-provoking and grin-inducing.

That this record was beaten in the charts by Billy Ray Cyrus’ Achy Breaky Heart is one of the great travesties in the history of music.

Youthanasia (Capitol/EMI, 1994-95)

In pursuit of the kind of popularity commanded by Metallica off the back of their own five-album classic run, Megadeth headed into hard rock territory in the mid-90s, untested ground for the band to be sure. While overall the results would be mixed, Youthanasia is arguably the best example of the combination of the style and charm of Megadeth with the big stadium-rock genre that was popular during the decade.

Sounding like a beefed-up Guns ‘n’ Roses exploring their darker side, Megadeth exhibit the full range of their musical talents; There’s a ballad with a French chorus (A Tout Le Monde) sitting just up the tracklist from a slice of juiced-up Black Sabbath (Youthanasia); There’s a bass-driven rock anthem about the terrors of child abuse (Family Tree) and a punky humourous closing track driven by wicked wordplay with previous album titles (Victory). The straightforward approach pays dividends throughout the record, wrapping up the mixed bag of styles in hard rock clothing and giving Mega-Dave a rare opportunity to step away from his raspy Cooper-esque vocals for a brief dalliance with a style similar to Axl Rose, which he does surprisingly well and which renders it one of the band’s best albums in terms of singing and songwriting.

A few rough edges can be heard after the near-perfection of Countdown To Extinction – I Thought I Knew It All has the barest whiff of cheese about it – but this is still a hugely powerful and eminently listenable collection of punchy riffs, sing-along choruses and soulful soloing, making Youthanasia a stylistic change well worth ringing.

Cryptic Writings (Capitol/EMI, 1997-98)

The decision to place the fortunes of a group that sat firmly in the “metal” camp most of its career in the hands of the manager behind the crappy but massive-selling Foreigner hit I Wanna Know What Love Is takes a certain amount of bravery (or the other thing) and the pairing was always likely to result in those age old “creative differences”.

And so it does. Walking a thin tightrope between the aims of selling units and retaining hardcore fans, Cryptic Writings plays like a battleground between The Two Megadeths: the Megadeth Dave Mustaine wanted, and the Megadeth Bud Prager wanted. Part radio rock, part classic ‘Deth, the album is a two-faced study in opposing musical styles, and both approaches throw up gems and overlooked curios; right-on opener Trust, the silly yet oddly engaging Have Cool, Will Travel; the blistering likes of The Disintegrators, She-Wolf and FFF; the Southern vibe of Sin, the creepy-stompy I’ll Get Even, and the eerie and aggressive Vortex create a rollercoaster between vacuous guitar pop and the typically fast loud and rude ethos of the band.

The only thing that unites the two different styles at work is Dan Huff’s uber-slick production, which puts Hollywood gloss on what is an interesting and enjoyably schizophrenic piece of work.

Risk (Capitol/EMI, 1999-2000)

After a near decade-long run of success with the same lineup, culminating in Trust becoming a number one single, Megadeth’s pursuit of popularity finally sent the wheels off the metal cart. Nick Menza was gone (suffering a tumour which Mustaine later claimed the drummer lied about having) replaced by Jimmy DeGrasso, and the ginger guitar-slinger had all but ceded the running of the band to Bud Prager and Dan Huff in hopes of grabbing the brass ring of radio. It’s a tribute to the band’s overriding skill as musicians that Risk didn’t put an end to them altogether.

Opening tracks Insomnia and Prince Of Darkness, full of industrial thump and evil intensity respectively, are the exception to the musical rule on this record, which sees the former thrash titans bring in disco beats and dance synths to the detriment of band and listener alike. The nadir of the band’s career is disco dud Crush ‘Em, featuring the first and thankfully last appearance of Rappin’ Dave Mustaine and adding insult to musical injury even before the likes of The Doctor Is Calling – a waste of a heavy riff on an exercise in cheesy effects and poor lyrics – and Breadline – Megadeth trying to do U2 and failing badly – get their chance to sully the Megadeth name.

What’s perhaps most disappointing is that beneath the soulless radio-baiting of the production, there’s some fine songs on offer. The likes of Wanderlust, Seven, Ecstacy and Alice Cooper-esque dual themed closers Time: The Beginning and Time: The End show Megadeth’s capabilities in terms of subtlety and songcraft, while I’ll Be There’s paean to Argentinian fans may lack for aggression, but the raw emotion (seemingly an outlet for the anguish Mustaine felt during the recording) shows even through the horrible bells and whistles that adorn it.

If it had been another band, Risk would likely be celebrated as a fine modern pop-rock record and perhaps even achieved the heights of success that Dave Mustaine craved. But as it stands, it’s unquestionably the worst Megadeth album ever made, and comes up some way short of all that preceded it.

Facebook
Twitter
YouTube
Instagram
SOCIALICON