By CORIN SHEARSTON
WHILE flawed by overly simplistic riffs and lazy lyric writing, 72 Seasons sustains Metallica’s importance through its catchy new hooks and psychological themes.
On April 14, history’s biggest metal band released their 11th studio album, seven years after the release of their previous work. Interestingly, Metallica’s 72 Seasons and Hardwired…To Self Destruct both contain 12 tracks and have run times of 77 minutes each.
Considering this peculiar repetition of sevens, let’s remind ourselves that the number represents fullness in life, which is applicable to the rich dynamics of 72 Seasons, produced by Greg Fidelman, who also worked on Hardwired, Lulu, and their second live symphonic-metal album S&M2.
The number seven is also used to illustrate the idea of completeness throughout the Bible. James Hetfield had a strictly religious upbringing, and witnessed the tragic death of his mother when he was 16. Religious themes from his upbringing later surfaced in songs such as “The God That Failed” and “Dyer’s Eve”. Other issues, such as his addiction and recovery which could be traced back to the repressed trauma of his formative years, have now been properly explored through the lyrics of 72 Seasons. The album’s striking cover image of a scorched baby’s cot surrounded by charred toys and belongings alludes to the notion of a childhood that someone tried to forcefully erase. The title encapsulates the number of yearly cycles before a person’s 18th year is reached, which is how old Hetfield was when his life was changed by his new band. It’s safe to say that 72 Seasons is conceptually grounded by Hetfield’s personal soul-searching.
This time around, most of his lyrics focus on emotional questioning, references to unpleasant feelings and imagery of dark situations. For example, lyrics like “if darkness had a son, here I am”, “am I too far gone to save”, and an acknowledgement of “the shame and fear I hide” (the last line from the confessional “Room Of Mirrors”), represent Hetfield’s rediscovered inward view, showing the troubled human behind the celebrity image.
However, many Metallica fans still prefer to overlook the meaning of their lyrics in favour of their riffs, grooves, and attitude. For those who expected the boys to brush off the dust and go full pelt into thrash mode, the self-titled album opener will partially satisfy those cravings, but you won’t hear another thrash passage until “Room Of Mirrors”, one track away from 72 Seasons’ 12th and final track.
The majority of 72 Seasons flows along in a comfortably energetic mid-paced hard rock feel, placed somewhere between Black and Load/Reload. The fast-flowing rhythms of “Through the Never” and “Fuel” from these albums might spring to mind upon your first listen to tracks like “Shadows Follow” and “Screaming Suicide”. A few abrupt changes and innovative surprises even summon the spirit of …And Justice For All. Kirk Hammett’s electrifying lead guitar playing is a notable feature, with his full wah-wah power regained and dialled up to 11 across many rapid-fire solos.
While they’re definitely not the punky beer and vodka skulling adolescents from their early days, an awareness of their earlier musical influences lingers. On debut single “Lux Æterna”, Lars Ulrich’s thundering kick drum pattern strongly echoes Overkill by Motörhead. Pummelling ‘d-beats’ are heard in “Screaming Suicide”, reminiscent of the grooves of Discharge and GBH. The bulk of 72 Seasons’ energy, however, comes from Hetfield’s impressive vocal delivery. He veers from sounding gruff and aggressive in “Room Of Mirrors”, to delivering a soaring chorus in “Too Far Gone?” and gifting us with some impressive high screams at the end of “Chasing Light”. From not having any formal vocal training to emerging as one of the most improved singers in metal, the current range and power of Hetfield’s near-60-year-old voice is truly remarkable.
Yet his vocals lack weight when paired with lyrics that are too vague or fall into a lazy rhyming scheme, which occurs repeatedly. Metallica have achieved striking poetic depth in the past, making certain lines from 72 Seasons laughable in comparison. Throughout, we hear certain lyrics offering vaguely menacing word stew: “black figures loom as a dark desire, inquisition your derailment, tied to the stake, torching heresy, flame out” (“You Must Burn!”) Others suck the impact from Metallica’s straightforward riffing by sounding like they came from a Rhyming Dictionary. “Criticise, scrutinise, stigmatise” on “Room Of Mirrors”, or “I am desperation, I am isolation, I am agitation”, on “Too Far Gone?”
Perhaps acknowledging the fans who prefer to pursue their music for its raw adrenalin, many of 72 Seasons’ songs sound optimised for the stage, with their straightforward riff structures and upbeat tempos. While this sonic formula guides most of the album, tempting a trap of tedium, most songs have at least one or two memorable features. Be they vocal, lyrical or instrumental, they keep you returning to certain tracks.
The title track begins with the line “feeding on the wrath of man”, which almost sums up the lyrics of the entire album, borne of Hetfield’s struggles. Ulrich’s opening hi-hats instil a raw, garage feel, although the drum recording itself sounds almost too perfect, sterilised from all live uncertainty. Overall, it kicks off the album in triumphant thrash style, optimised for a live setting. “Shadows Follow”’s standout riff exemplifies Metallica’s maintained ability to write punchy and addictive guitar parts. It also has a killer breakdown, tough as steel and free of extraneous detail. In “You Must Burn!”, the majority of the song revolves around an evil and lumbering riff which harks back to “Sad But True” or even “Harvester Of Sorrow”.
In a delicate balancing act, “Shadows Follow” ends right on the cusp of dragging on, and is one of the album’s shorter songs. It lyrically addresses a perceived darkness that stubbornly follows Hetfield’s mind, despite his attempts to flee from it. A few tracks later, in “You Must Burn!”, the preference for another chorus near its end results in the song dragging on, although it could have easily ended on a punchy snare pattern.
“Screaming Suicide” is fortunately free from excessive length, one of the snappiest and most efficiently written songs on the album, drawing lyrical inspiration from one of the album’s darkest subject matters. Hetfield’s vocals on its final chorus are mighty and formidable, while the band proves they can really swing on a simple-sounding riff.
“Sleepwalk My Life Away” is one of 72 Seasons’ more filler-type tracks, along with other dull tracks like “Crown Of Barbed Wire” and “Chasing Light”, although it’s interesting to hear a heavily audible bass in its intro. It still has a redeeming feature, coming in the form of a mean breakdown riff, but remains still one of the album’s more forgettable numbers.
The same can’t be said for some of its other tracks, like “Lux Æterna”, “If Darkness Had a Son”, or personal favourite, “Inamorata”. “Inamorata” is the lyrical exploration of being addicted to misery, and Metallica’s longest song to date. Belonging in an unofficial trilogy of epic songs, along with “The Outlaw Torn” and “Fixxxer”, “Inamorata” clocks in at a whopping eleven minutes, grounded by a dramatic slower pace. Featuring the album’s most catchy chorus, “Inamorata”’s vibe is fully enhanced with baroque and eerie guitar harmonising that enters midway, warranting repeat listens, while Hetfield reaches new heights of cathartic release for its vocals. Overall, it’s a modern triumph of a Metallica song, deserved of its important place as 72 Seasons’ closer.
With 72 Seasons, Metallica have ground out 12 huge new songs that are straightforward and loud. They’re best listened to in moderation, so you don’t sink into a mire of repetitive mid-paced simplistic riffs and vague word-stew. However, these lacklustre elements are spread amongst heart-grabbing moments of lyrical directness, instrumental excellence, and true vocal power, underpinned with many badass riffs. As previously mentioned, nearly every song features one or two hooks that warrant repeat listens.
72 Seasons was clearly written with an acknowledgement of past influences, before being delivered with eight feet planted in the present, and eyes cast to an artistic future that will hopefully stay innovative. A promising sign.
