Thursday, June 26, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

CDVS

Seven years after squeezing out a stinking Load, after veering toward the brink of breakup and being saved by--no shit--group therapy, after nearly wisping into irrelevance as a thousand angrier-acting bands marched to the airwaves, Metallica is back. With swaggering chops and a clumsy, expansive ire, the newly fired-up band stomps into the ring--with the conspicuous absence of bassist Jason Newsted. Where'd he go? Defected to join Canuck hard-rock outfit Voivod, which, like Metallica, also finally got its shit together and went back to basics.

That's about all these two sluggers have in common. Has the sprawly rage of St. Anger met its match in the focused, brainy dissent of Voivod? Short answer: helllllyeah. Turns out Canadians can kick ass--particularly when pitted against bloated American metal bands making desperate stabs at legitimate feeling.

That problem becomes apparent in the first round. Metallica swings way too wildly and betrays bad form and disuse; far from living up to the "leaner 'n' meaner" hype, Metallica reveals instead a band flailing for some brand of lost glory. Sure, the opening salvo of tunes bristles and bites, and even sports a few novel touches; the clean vocal harmonies that emerge from the murk of "Frantic," the violent ebb and flow of the title track--with some heartfelt crooning by James Hetfield--are engaging. But the overlong tunes, at 5:51 and 7:21 respectively, end up shambling along with an exhausted sense of searching for a point to make ("Invisible Kid" is another perfect thrashy growler ruined by stretching past--eight minutes?!). That's the cardinal sin of St. Anger: It's self-indulgence masquerading as self-renewal. A blindfold listen might reveal a promising nu-metal band with a few new twists, but Metallica? Shouldn't have skimped on gym time, lard-asses. Now who's got the eye of the tiger?

No wonder Voivod is peppering Metallica's gut with a barrage of sniper-focus jabs! Voivod's 13th album embodies the leanness and meanness Metallica was perhaps aiming for. Forgoing rage--that emotion long ago co-opted by the army of extreme lifestyle salesmen--Voivod instead feints with a series of competent, thoughtful, garage-crafted rock songs featuring vocals by newly returned frontman Denis "Snake" Belanger. It doesn't make for the most thrilling exhibition. Forgoing the thrash and prog metal stylings that marked earlier Voivod albums, Voivod gets by here with earnest, unflashy workmanship; standout tracks include "Face Up"-- built around a thundering, corkscrew guitar figure--and the extended workout of "The Multiverse." No K.O. here; Voivod just watches at Metallica spends itself with a final, furious spasm and then drops to the floor--muttering a prayer to some made-up saint that, gee, sounded cool at the time.--Andrew Kiraly