Metallica - “They were great once, but that was a long time ago”

By John Tucker

So, Metallica are to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame... Some would argue that this is way overdue: the band itself is pushing thirty, they’ve sold godzillions of albums (some of which have been quite good) and in the downtime have kept us all amused with petty squabbles, rehab and Napster. And hey, they almost got what I seem to recall might have been the first ever Heavy Metal-related Grammy (the memory no longer remains, I’m afraid), losing out on the night to fearsome Metal behemoths Jethro Tull.

But come on… It’s not even the Rock 'N' Roll Hall Of Fame, is it? It’s the boring old Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, shiny and plastic and squeaky clean; a bunch of industry suits sitting around a table drinking a crisp wine, or maybe hoofing a ball around a golf course, and putting forward safe bets to be inducted – “nothing too edgy, mind” – like Metallica.

I’ve never truly believed that Metallica live up to the hype that surrounds them. I thought they were great once, but that was a long time ago, back when they took risks and pushed boundaries. Not when they released Kill 'Em All with its unfocused jumble of songs glued together from recycled NWOBHM (New Wave of British Heavy Metal) riffs, rubbish cover and rear sleeve photo which captured four youths looking as angry as their spots; this was a band that in their early days would play five NWOBHM songs in a set of nine, and it was the influences from my beloved NWOBHM that in my opinion made the album worth picking up. No, the magic moment came in 1984 with Ride the Lightning, the greatest studio album they have ever recorded. This was when the band came closest to living up to their reputation, and their blistering show at London’s Lyceum will live with me forever. The follow-up was eagerly anticipated, but sadly disappointed. The review I wrote for Marshall Stack fanzine gave Master Of Puppets a low score and berated the band for rehashing their previous outing, albeit with different lyrics and riffs stretched to the limits of the listeners' endurance. I couldn’t believe it when the other reviews started to appear: to everyone else this was the greatest thing since the bread slicer. Didn’t they realise that it was the previous record with an orange sleeve rather than a blue sleeve? Maybe it was all a conspiracy…

From thereon in, the bigger Metallica became, their fanbase stretching from here to the outer limits and back, the more I wondered why. ...And Justice For All was like trying to catch a bus here in Bristol; you wait and wait and wait in the forlorn hope that something might happen, and then you realise you’ve wasted an hour of your life. “One” was great, but as for the rest... Well, “The Frayed Ends Of Sanity” just about sums up trying to wade through the band’s fourth full length offering. The Black Album had its moments, but for every “Enter Sandman” there was an “Of Wolf and Man”; for every “The Unforgiven” a “Through the Never”. A couple of easy listening albums and a batch of covers took us and them to the Twenty-First Century, with the assistance of a brace of singles in a bewildering array of formats, and Metallica’s first official live album on which, at times, the band and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra appear to be playing completely different songs.

One millennium gave way to the next and the disposable heroes to my mind became even more disposable by inflicting St Anger upon us all. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person who'd admit to never having played the album right through. And then, probably the ultimate heresy: Death Magnetic in my opinion was not the best album of last year (and nor was Black Ice, before you ask). It didn’t make my Top Ten, and probably wouldn’t even make my Top Fifty. Poor twisted me...

But does it actually matter? What difference does it make if they are – or are not, come to that – inducted into the Hall of Fame? The square root of sod all, that’s what. It’s not going to increase their market (“Wow? In the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? No way! I must check ’em out!”), nor is it going to make them actually start writing groundbreaking songs again. It’s just another trophy to stand on the mantlepiece, something else to dust.

As it’s going to happen anyway though (Steven Rosen has already commented that there was an inevitability to it) who should be the one to bestow upon the one-time Metal militia the ultimate accolade of mainstream acceptance on the night? Well, the wild card would be Dave Mustaine; I mean, it’s not going to happen, but MegaDave, the man kicked out of Metallica for eating James Hetfield’s dog or whatever it was, would certainly be good for a laugh. Scott Ian would make a great speech, and as Anthrax and Metallica shared so much in the early Eighties he would be a logical choice. On this side of the Atlantic, Brian Tatler, guitarist of Diamond Head, or Sean Harris, the band’s legendary frontman, would have a moral right to induct the band; if Lars Ulrich hadn’t imported and then passed off so many Diamond Head songs as the band’s own, Metallica might never have got off the ground in the first place.

But if I was seriously asked to nominate someone worthy of the role, it would be Russ Tippins, the shy but immensely talented guitarist of NWOBHM heroes Satan. As I understand it, Satan and Metallica were quite close in the early days, and it was Tippins, in tears, who called me all those years ago when the news flew around the world that Cliff Burton had been killed. If it’s Tippins who’s called upon to be Metallica’s Prince Charming on the night, then I might actually be interested in the proceedings. Maybe...