The Graying of Dave the Red: Taking Megadeth’s Last Stand to the Rodeö

The Graying of Dave the Red: Taking Megadeth’s Last Stand to the Rodeö

Megadeth is the obstinate offspring of a legendarily difficult and divisive individual who rarely worked well with others or even himself. You can expend buckets of printer ink applauding Dave Mustaine’s skills as a musician and songwriter and pour out just as much on his shortcomings, mistakes, and disappointments. One thing is indisputable: the man left a sizeable impact on metal over multiple decades while helping to define a whole new genre.

But we didn’t come here to praise Dave or Megadeth, we came to bury them (the latter anyway). Megadeth is allegedly the last album we’ll get from Dave’s passion project, and after 16 albums and a career of loud public living rife with infamously endless beefs, this finale will be both mourned and welcomed depending on where you sit on the spectrum of Megaopinions. Personally, I loved all the early days material, but I’ve run warm and cold on much of what came after Youthanasia. Even though I haven’t spent much time with Megadeth’s post-2000 output, I admit to feeling bittersweet emotions as their career arc finally comes to a close. I’ve even found myself going back through their discography and reminding myself what I loved, what I didn’t, and discovering several of their albums are better than remembered. I suspect I won’t be alone in doing so these next few weeks either.

Though I had planned to cover Megadeth myself, it began to feel like too big a moment in metal history to hoard for myself, so I reluctantly opened things up to a rowdy Rodeö of unwashed opinions from the filthy AMG staffers. Dave deserves his special day, and now it will be spent ringside at this cock and bully show. Brace for the full Mustaine experience: hot takes, bad taste, and tiny kernels of wisdom. Rodeös sell, but who’s buying?

Steel Druhm

 

 

AMG Himself: It just seems so fitting that Dave Mustaine would want to get in the last word before retiring. My impression of the man has always been that of a cantankerous, moody, and ultimately difficult guy blessed with golden picking discipline and riffs coming out the wazoo. The mythology of Megadeth is, in a sense, told by the joke Steel Druhm has been making behind the scenes by referring to the band as Megadave. Yet, my jaundiced eye sees in Megadeth a story made up of the personnel Mustaine has worked with. It’s no surprise that when the band reached its initial peak of global acclaim, Dave was working with a genuine guitar virtuoso. Again, when Endgame exploded unexpectedly onto the scene—resulting in my youthful 4.5 rating—it was Chris Broderick who really made the record shine. Yes, of course, Dave has always had riffs, but Broderick executed with a flex and a grin. So, too, does Megadeth draw its real strength from Teemu Mäntysaari, whose genuine chops have carved him a niche as a professional second fiddle to crabby, unpredictable frontmen. Between Dave’s riffs and Teemu’s execution, Megadeth lands on its feet. With only one song I dislike (“I Don’t Care,” which is truly a stinker), the tone throughout Mustaine’s last dance is mid-paced, strongly melodic, surprisingly hooky, and has just enough swagger to remind you who you’re dealing with. Still, plodders like “Hey God!” and “Another Bad Day” are saved by great solos and interesting countermelodies. And when tracks do peak into thrashy Megadeth fare (“Made to Kill,” or the delightful “Let There Be Shred”), Hevisaurus’ shining light adds brilliance and creativity, raising the level across the board. That may seem like a backhanded compliment, but I think, rather, that it’s just fitting.1 Dave gets one last go-round on his own terms—a thing he may well have thought would never happen—and we get to talk about the legacy of this legendary thrash pioneer. That’s a good outcome. – 3.0/5.0

Steel Druhm: Megadeth have been a semi-loyal companion since 1985. Over the decades, I loved, hated, and forgave them more than once. Now, after 41 years and 16 albums, Dave’s winding down his flying circus with the eponymously titled Megadeth. So where does the road end for the band that helped define thrash and gave metal its most mercurial leading man? Megadeth is an entertaining tour through the various eras of the band, with Dave being MegaDave. He’s older and wiser now, though, and smartly sticks to what he does well here. Opener “Tipping Point” is the best Megadeth song in years, with the band rediscovering the beefy thrash sound that’s been missing since Peace Sells. From there, Megadeth takes you through the many faces of Deth, from the annoyingly catchy cheeseball anthems like “I Don’t Care” and “Hey, God,” to the solo-heavy speed bombing of “Let There Be Shred.” There are some really good songs here, with only a few that don’t completely work. The album hits a stride late from “Made to Kill” onward. “Made” approaches vintage thrash levels, evoking a badass, nostalgic energy. “I Am the War” is blunt, burly shit, and closer “The Last Note” delivers Dave’s sneering signoff in grand form. It’s an appropriate exit for a pioneer and legend. Dave’s renewed focus on what he does best pays dividends as he crafts an album’s worth of decent to very good songs with moments that remind me, oddly enough, of classic Metallica. Speaking of which, I even like the bonus cover of “Ride the Lightning” more than expected. The fretboard pyrotechnics between Dave and Wintersun‘s Teemu Mäntysaari are hot and noodly, with scads of smoking riffs and solos in every nook and cranny. As his killing business is shuttered for good, Dave leaves behind a legitimately good album, and it’s nice to see him go out on a high note. Goodbye to Vic Rattlehead and company. Thanks for the memories and the music. I can’t wait for the project with Jason Newsted called Fuck You, Lars!2 3.0/5.0

Saunders: I’m saddling up for this high-profile rodeo special as a rank Megadeth novice. Due to cutting my teeth as a metalhead on other influential old school thrash bands of the era, Megadeth’s blockbuster career largely slipped by me. I gradually developed a strong appreciation of their selected early albums, largely overlooking much of MegaDave’s tumultuous career path of the past couple of decades. Megadeth’s seventeenth and final album, a fittingly self-titled effort, finds Mustaine rallying his troops for one last go-around. Mustaine and his accomplished brigade of hired guns get back to basics, peeling off a warts-and-all, weathered, yet undeniably energetic swansong. Minus the bonus track, Megadeth clocks a refreshingly lean 41 minutes and comes packed with a decent grab bag of catchy anthems, crunchy riffs and often inspired shredding from Mustaine and co-axeman Teemu Mäntysaari. However, expectations should be tempered; this is not exactly a callback to their classic era, but rather a fun romp as feisty geezer thrash and anthemic hard rock collide. Featuring punchy, high-octane thrashers (“Tipping Point,” “Made to Kill”), big dumb fretboard frying jams (“Let there Be Shred,” “Obey the Call”), hooky mid-paced rockers (“Puppet Parade,” “I Am War”), and an unsubtle sentimental farewell (‘The Last Note”), enough fuel burns in the tank to offset the album’s weaker moments and missteps. Dave’s trademark punkish snarl sounds in good form, albeit crippled by simplistic and often hamfisted lyrics, including the worst offenders, “I Don’t Care” and “Another Bad Day.” Regardless, Megadeth could have wound up an overcooked, indulgent mess, rife with questionable ideas and ill-advised risk. Although lyrically, it’s often clunky, leave your brain at the door fare, Mustaine and co. sign off with a respectable collection of infectious, no-frills tunes, providing reasonably satisfying closure for longtime fans. 3.0/5.0.

Holdeneye: As long as I’ve liked metal, I’ve had a soft spot for Dave Mustaine and Megadeth. I mean, can you have a more comic-book-villain-origin-story beginning than this band? Yeah, Dave has routinely proven himself to be a megadick, but maybe it’s his unabashed commitment to being nothing other than himself that brings a smile to my face whenever I see him (it was fun to see him play the role of Max Mayfield in Stranger Things). Megadeth was one of my first deep discography dives when I’d officially sworn my vow of un-silence to metal, and the punky swagger into which Dave dipped his thrash has always hit the spot for me. I consider Endgame to be one of the band’s finest moments, but I’ve been rather disappointed with much of Megadeth’s most recent output. In fact, I don’t think I ever even listened to 2022’s The Sick, The Dying… and the Dead!. So imagine my surprise upon hearing the band’s self-titled swan song for the first time. As soon as the first real thrash riff hit on opener “Tipping Point,” I was sold. There’s not a bad song on Megadeth, and there are even a couple of great ones. I don’t even mind Dave’s version of “Ride the Lightning,” but I wish he’d recorded it 40 years ago—I can only imagine how the piss and vinegar would have flowed! Overall, Megadeth is a worthy sendoff for Megadeth. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to say goodbye to one of metal’s favorite heels, but here I am. Thanks, Dave, for giving us some killer records and for meting out the punishment we’ve all been due. 3.0/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: I don’t care about Dave writing rock licks. I don’t care about a new guitarist. I don’t care about Megadeth playing old tricks. I don’t care—I just want some thrash hits! That’s been my mantra for a new Megadeth album since I can remember, as I didn’t come of age in the glory days of thrash. Post the release of Endgame, I’ve been wondering, with caution, whether each successive album would bookend in lacking the style of the Megadeth catalog. For better or worse, Megadeth gives about as fitting a farewell as Mustaine can manage at this juncture. Between flaccid-mic spats of straight-to-VHS quality camp (“I Don’t Care,” “Let There Be Shred”), Honest Dave emerges in both an aching humility (“Hey God!”) and tattered bravado (“Puppet Parade,” “The Last Note”). Over forty years, seventeen albums, and an undeniable mark on metal history, it can be hard to view Mustaine as the working-class underdog that he continues to wear across character pieces (“Puppet Parade,” “Another Bad Day”). But at least Megadeth doesn’t hammer heavy any ham-fisted conspiracies or stay in any one place too long. Yet, for every moment that Hevisaurus wunderkind Teemu Mäntysaari saves with an interjecting, slippery neoclassical lead, Mustaine sputters in—no nuance, all withered-face exasperation—about how upset he is, how much he doesn’t care, or how life has worn him down. Much of the riff-base, in similar slogging fashion, feels caught in middling churn of not-quite-thrash but heavier-than-rock pomp of Youthanasia or Cryptic Writings-era works, though an aged punkiness presents itself in refreshing ways, if not always enjoyable (“Tipping Point,” “I Don’t Care,” “Obey the Call”). In his determination to disappear from the limelight, Mustaine’s cobbled comfort sells Megadeth as Megadeth in a manner that will leave fans not upset, not enthralled, but at an expected ease with the curtain drawn to a close. 2.5/5.0.

Thyme: Megadeth has been an integral part of my metal upbringing, so to say it was easy gathering my thoughts on their eponymous last album, let alone the band itself, would be a lie. At times insufferable, yet ever unapologetic, Dave Mustaine has always seemed like the Frank Sinatra of heavy metal to me. Why? Because he has always done shit his way. And, as the man prepares to shutter a chapter of his life over four decades in the making, I’m happy to report Megadeth is going out on a high note. Megadeth has a little bit of everything: the straight-up thrashers (“Tipping Point,” “Let There Be Shred,” “Made to Kill”), the bruisers (“Obey the Call”), the melodious (“Puppet Parade”), the introspective (“Hey God!), and the reflective (“The Last Note”), which I’d be lying again if I said that last track didn’t have me a little misty-eyed. Even “Ride the Lightning,” though no “Mechanix,” works well as a bonus track. Further illustrating Dave’s knack for great guitarist collabs, Teemu Mäntysaari (Wintersun) is a breath of fresh air, masterfully shredding and noodling his way across Megadeth’s very digestible forty-seven minutes. I’m a little sad we won’t get more Teemu-deth, to be honest. Verbeuren’s skinwork shines again, while a trio of bassists (LoMenzo, DiGiorgio, and Rakestraw) capably fill the low end of this Mustaine/Rakestraw production, which sounds great, landing sonically between Countdown and Youthanasia. It’s no Peace Sells, but it doesn’t have to be. For a man who’s survived addiction, a potential career-ending injury, and cancer(!), I think Dave’s earned the right to lay down his guitar. Time, as we know, waits for no man. While it will be weird living in a world without Megadeth, I’ll cherish the music and memories. Thanks, Dave. I can’t wait to catch you on the road one… last… time… 3.0/5.0

ClarkKent: After 43 years in the biz, Megadeth is sadly calling it quits, but at least they’re going out with a bang. Megadeth is fresh, energetic, and disciplined in ways the big four haven’t sounded in some time. The thrash cuts “Tipping Point” and “Let There Be Shred” don’t sound like a decades-old band trying to stay relevant. They sound like a vigorous young band carrying a swagger and a chip on their shoulder. Megadeth provides equal measures of pure thrash and melodic heavy metal, but keeps everything to a tight 3-4 minutes (at least until the final two tracks). Dave Mustaine proves a capable storyteller, with lyrics that feel personal and autobiographical. There’s the confessional “Hey God!” turning to his relationship with religion; “Puppet Parade,” my personal favorite, looking back at his struggles with alcoholism; the tongue-in-cheek “Let There Be Shred” building up a heavy metal mythos around Dave; and finally “The Last Note” giving fans a fond farewell. The latter also provides a rather poignant summary of his career: “I came, I saw, now I disappear.” It’s true that not all songs land, such as “I Don’t Care,” with lyrics that sound like a defiant adolescent wrote them, and the middling “Obey the Call,” which lacks any memorable hooks. “Ride the Lightning” also sounds too similar to its source, but at least it provides Dave with closure over his feud with Metallica. As sad as I am to see Dave hang it up, thankfully, he provides one final thrill in the Megadeth discography. 3.5/5.0

Owlswald: As Dave Mustaine closes the book on his legendary career, Megadeth’s swan song makes it clear that Mustaine intends to leave the same way he entered: loud and unmistakably himself. The self-titled record starts hot with “Tipping Point,” a fast, grinding riff assault that recalls Megadeth’s classic openers. “Let There Be Shred” leans into old-school speed metal while “I Don’t Care” delivers its punk-ish energy despite terrible lyrics. New guitarist Teemu Mäntysaari steps seamlessly into the void left by Kiko Loureiro, immediately asserting himself with playful solos, sweeping leads, and fretboard fireworks that stretch his guitar to the limit. Dirk Verbeuren remains rock‑solid, delivering galloping rhythms with sharp tom rolls and double-bass that echo Nick Menza’s punishing style. “Puppet Parade” nods to both Cryptic Writings and Countdown to Extinction, evoking “Almost Honest” in its opening and “Foreclosure of a Dream” in its clean bridge. Mustaine’s gruff, sneering delivery is classic Megadeth here—very “Sweating Bullets”—even though the chorus doesn’t land. The record stumbles temporarily with “Another Bad Day,” a forgettable rocker dragged down by weak songwriting and more bad lyrics, and “I Am War,” which feels generic and overly reliant on thin vocal hooks. But “Obey the Call” and “Made to Kill” fare better, with Mustaine returning to his lower register that fits more naturally within the outstanding instrumental performances. The finale turns somber. “The Last Note” finds Mustaine confronting his legacy and the approaching end of his career, followed by an unnecessary cover of “Ride the Lightning”—a final smirk3at his long history with Metallica. Flawed but unexpectedly solid, Megadeth’s final album plays like an autobiographical reflection from a metal legend. It’s hard to ask for much more at this point and is a worthy send-off. Good.

Grin Reaper: Going out on your own terms is not a decision every band gets to make, and when the news broke that Megadeth would hang up the ol’ guitar strap, the news struck bittersweet. Dave Mustaine and his revolving cast of support have been steady companions through my major milestones, providing a symphony for construction as I assembled my adult life. But what can you expect from Megadeth’s last words? Megadeth is, most of all, a celebration. Seventeen albums over forty years deserve a bit of revelry, especially considering the heights of Megadeth’s career. Though Megadeth doesn’t threaten to dethrone their best material, it’s a major success for latter-day Deth and boasts concise track lengths and carefree fun. Most importantly, the mantra of “Let There Be Shred” isn’t limited to just that song as Dave and Teemu Mäntysaari (Wintersun) trade fiery leads throughout (“Tipping Point,” “Made to Kill”). Dirk Verbeuren once again avails himself behind the kit, effortlessly pummeling with mechanized precision (“Tipping Point”) and snappy punk rolls (“I Don’t Care”). Though I would prefer another technical smorgasbord à la Rust in Peace, there’s a fair offering of mid-paced tracks more in line with the Youthanasia and Cryptic Writings school of radio-friendly jams (“Hey God!,” “Another Bad Day,” “Obey the Call”). Songs like these are among my least favorite on Megadeth, but credit to Dave—they’re short and feel genuine. The honesty of Megadeth’s curtain call is a final triumph, a fist raised in the air signifying that after a career of proving to listeners and himself that he earned his place in the pantheon of metal, Dave Mustaine gets to end his game his way. May he retire in peace—now go rattle your goddamn head! So Far, So Good!

Baguette of Bodom: After the massive disappointment that was The Sick… and the embarrassing hilarity of “I Don’t Care” earning meme status, I was prepared for a real stinker. But it was not meant to be, for Megadeth’s self-titled swan song surprised shockingly. Do not expect a fast-paced thrasher, though; this last hurrah harkens back to various eras of the band, mostly the better ones even! While there’s a bit of Killing… and Rust in Peace in “Made to Kill,” many songs here resemble the simpler but effective ethos of Countdown. Tasty, melodic ’90s lead guitar hooks (“Another Bad Day,” “I Am War”) result in Mustaine occasionally sounding the best he has since Thirteen, and Dirk Verbeuren’s drums deliver plenty of fun fills throughout (“Made to Kill,” “Hey God!”). Teemu Mäntysaari is clearly the star of the show. He complements Dave’s playing with classic ‘Deth tones, and I’m glad his tasteful riff and shred craft have a place to truly shine front and center (“Puppet Parade,” “Let There Be Shred”). Despite a rough opening duo, the record recovers quickly, with the back half being particularly impressive for a band I had largely given up on. Overall, Megadeth is a solid Dystopia-tier album in a tight 41-minute package. It won’t make any respectable year-end lists, but I’m glad this long and mightily uneven career ends on a positive note, except for the tacked-on “Ride the Lightning” bonus. It’s a decent enough rendition of a decent enough song,4 but why hold a grudge over young and stupid egos for 40 years? It’s not even faster or angrier, which used to be the selling point. “Mechanix” made “The Four Horsemen” better; this one makes a great opening riff worse. Take relationship counseling notes from Helloween. – 3.0/5.0

Double Bonus Megaopinions from Infamous Former Staffers:

Doc Fisting: In an era where no band ever truly stops, I approach Megadeth’s impending retirement with an apprehensive sense of closure. If Dave Mustaine feels that this album is his last, he’ll get no argument from me whatsoever. The songwriting is weak throughout Megadeth, often feeling like mismatched parts forced together on some producer’s laptop. The lyrics aren’t much better, ranging from good ideas executed poorly (“Puppet Parade”) to steaming hot garbage (“I Don’t Care,” ”Let There Be Shred”). A few tracks approach classic Megadeth’s speed, if not its quality, but much of the record goes by at a Cryptic Writings-esque midtempo pace. Even compared to Megadeth’s last couple of albums, this one feels especially low-effort and low-energy. Mustaine’s ability to craft memorable guitar parts seems to have departed, as nothing here shows a trace of the creativity or technical skill he was once known for. Time has sandblasted his vocal range down to almost nothing, and he relies heavily on his “hello me, it’s me again” shtick as a result. Closing track “The Last Note” crosses the line into self-parody, closing the band’s career on a low note.* New guitarist Teemu Mäntysaari attempts to patch the holes, delivering ripping solos where riffs or vocal hooks belong. Drummer Dirk Verbueren similarly tries to inject some Gar Samuelson-style energy. Unfortunately, the material here doesn’t give them much to work with. Make no mistake — Dave Mustaine is one of the architects of thrash metal, and deserves credit for it (just ask him). His contributions to the genre from 1983 through 1991 are essential, and nothing can take that away. But Megadeth feels less like a triumphant farewell and more like a necessary one.5 1.5/5.0

Ferrous Beuller: The end is nigh. Time to Ragnarockoutwithyour”Glock”out for that final full stop in the Apocellipsis. After 40-plus years, Megadeth have bowed out with a final self-titled trip down the riff river. What does this mean? It means another release that is indistinguishable from every post-Youthanasia Megadeth album. For decades, Mustaine has released self-derivative records whose highlights might occasionally tickle a playlist. Megadeth does not deviate from this formula. If you’re hoping for a grab bag of sanitised thrash riffs and intangible mid-pacers, then you’re in luck. But make no mistake, this is not Risk. Those particularly fond of albums like Cryptic Warnings or even Th1rt3en will find something to like here. Dave can surely write this kind of material with his eyes closed by now, and it shows. It feels rote because, by this point, that’s exactly what Mustaine’s creativity has become. As just another Megadeth album, this is as redundant as the irrelevant marketing strategy Metallica cover. As a goodbye, Mustaine has always done things his way, so I guess this, too, is by design. Decades of treading tepid water can never change the fact that Megadeth embodies a foundation of metal. This swan song won’t sully that reputation. But, given the finality of it all, I can’t help but wonder what might have been. Well, Megadeth, thanks for the memories. Someday, other bands will know your pain, but few will smile that once-black-toothed grin. May you rust in peace disgracefully. If anyone needs me, I’ll be busy pretending they split after 1994. 2.0/5.0



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