Selling Out and Metallica. (What a new sentiment.)

About a month and a half ago, there was this little album called Death Magnetic from this band that obviously no one ever heard of called Metallica. While most critics had a nice amount of praise put onto the record, most listeners (read: a couple of friends that I talked about the album with) had a more mixed response. Reasoning for thinking this album is simply just an okay record range from the tired criticism that bassist Rob Trujillo will never be Cliff Burton to the more interesting criticism that a band that's sold out like Metallica cannot suddenly come back to greatness.

Now the first point is both accurate and incorrect at the same time. Of course Trujillo is not or sounds anything like Cliff Burton by any stretch of the imagination, but this is a tired point because Burton never lived long enough for people to judge whether he would be so idolized and great in the 1990s incarnation of Metallica, either. Kind of hard to say that Burton would be such a bass guitar legend to people if he didn't have to record Reload or Load, you know?

But I digress, this post really has nothing at all to do with Cliff Burton. Rather, it's more about the nature of "selling out" and how that changes the perception of the hardcore fans. Not too long ago, a friend of mine noted to me that he loved Hoobastank's Every Man for Himself record released around 2006. This record was much ballyhooed at the time because the band was two years gone from the release of their most successful (and in turn most annoying) single "The Reason." Not to mention, I'm sure anyone who saw Hoobastank in the late 1990s during their alt metal/funk metal phase was long gone and not hearing the record's album-long rant about not making another song like "The Reason."

Perhaps as "hardcore music junkies," we are supposed to slag off bands for when they go for a broader audience because we're a bunch of misfits and the "broader audience" is much like the popular crowd. If you've been around a high school long enough, you've obviously noticed the vocal few people that seem to hate everyone else that's more popular at that school, whether it be for how they dress or what they like to do or whatever. And certainly none of them can stand when a band suddenly becomes huge and everyone, including those kids who could care less about this group a short while earlier, thinks they're the bee's knees.

This isn't to say to lighten up about the issue. I'll definitely make the argument that a ton of albums that have occurred after a band has "broken through" have been downright awful.

Case in point, Metallica's St. Anger.

But it isn't to say that the all hope is lost for the band, either.

Case in point, Metallica's Death Magnetic.

Death Magnetic is an odd case because the band more or less is going back to an older sound despite the fact that the grittiness of that sound and the albums it created surely is lost on these rich old kooks. Right? Not quite. If anything, Death Magnetic re-affirms what is great about the older records and in turn what is great about Metallica when everything is on, and that's the stories of the songs. While Hetfield never matches his songwriting of the late 80s works, a number like "The Unforgiven III" pens a well-written seafaring tale all the same. While they'll never write anything as indicting as "Disposable Heroes" once again, no one person should always compare the past to the present just because perfectly solid material doesn't meet up to classic standards.

In turn, Metallica has done something I never expected to happen again. They have made perfectly solid material that I enjoy and don't shudder at hearing again and again. Once again, I don't think I'm going to suddenly say that "The End of the Line" is as well-written as "Master of Puppets" any time in history, but this does not change the perception of solid music.

And you know what, I can live with solid music. It's much like anything in life. If you turn your back on something only to rediscover that while it is flawed, it is a perfectly good thing, you take that as a minor victory. And life is a lot cooler to live, when you allow yourself some minor victories.

Video for "The Day That Never Comes."