When a person goes to rehab for any kind of addiction, almost everything is stripped away from them, until they’re forced to confront the innermost demons that put them into the position they’re in. It’s what Metallica singer/guitarist James Hetfield went through in July 2001, after entering a treatment programme for alcohol abuse and other addictions. Upon his return to his band early the following year, they made St Anger: an album that, not coincidentally, saw the members strip away the frills, solos and melodies of the past and unload 75 minutes of honest aggression.
Much like Hetfield himself, Metallica as a unit were forced to re-examine themselves between 2001 and 2003. They weathered a PR disaster with their lawsuit against file-sharing service Napster, and longtime bassist Jason Newsted’s exit re-opened wounds from the death of his predecessor, Cliff Burton, that never healed, no matter how many Platinum records lined their walls. They hired a psychotherapist and had conversations they’d avoided for decades, such as with fired lead guitarist Dave Mustaine. In a sense, the band went through its own rehab – and St Anger was the sound of them rebuilding afterwards, getting back to the kind of garage jams they enjoyed before 1983 debut album Kill ’Em All.
When it came out on June 5, 2003, though, Metallica’s eighth album was largely rejected by fans, many of whom wouldn’t understand its backstory until documentary Some Kind Of Monster the following year. They missed the neoclassical elegance of Master Of Puppets and emotional rollercoasters like One and Fade To Black. The production was lacklustre and Lars Ulrich’s snare drum sounded like a back-alley bin fight. Even when St Anger topped the charts in 18 countries and swiftly went multi-Platinum, its reputation remained cursed, as it was given the nickname ‘the biggest bad album ever made’.
But, in the deluxe CD edition of the album, there was a bonus disc. It seems that most people never bothered with it, likely put off by the notion of consuming more St Anger than was necessary. It’s live-in-the-studio footage of the band playing the album in full, and even in the internet age, where any curiosity around a successful name has the potential to be picked up and shared worldwide, it’s almost never talked about. Yet it’s the key to understanding the band’s goals around this time – and, arguably, achieves them better than the actual release.
As a musical experience, the DVD is just better. Where the St Anger mix bafflingly emphasised their weaknesses – that snare sound being the chief offender – here Metallica actually sound like what they wanted to be: a raw, unencumbered metal band. They’re performing in sync, with a chemistry and even joy that producer Bob Rock never channelled onto the tapes. When the beat drops on the title track, Hetfield is euphoric, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out in time with the riff. “Please, say next!” he jokes after laying down the taxing, eight-minute take.
It’s also vital to see the state of the band to understand it. When St Anger first hit shelves, people had long been accustomed to witnessing Metallica the superheroes: the fire-spewing Papa Het asking tens of thousands of people “Oh yeah?!” night and night out. When you have that stadium-conquering vision in your head, and the soundtrack is something grubby and unrefined, of course it’s going to suck. On the DVD, though, all you have is four blokes in t-shirts and jeans, surrounded by amps. It’s the environment that St Anger was made in and made for. Guitars are strewn about at random, there’s a sign calling the space a “sanitarium” and the head of Lady Justice from 1989’s Damaged Justice tour precariously hangs in the background. It’s no accident that the film begins with footage of Hetfield graffitiing ST ANGER REHEARSALS on a wall. He’s returning to that teenage mindset in more ways than one.
It would be too much to say that the St Anger DVD amends every problem with the music. If you find the songs on the album overly long for what they are, this won’t change your mind. And Hetfield’s vocals are sometimes too immature for their own good, squealing as he tries and fails to reach for high and low notes. But the film commits fully to what the album wanted to be, has a lot more fun doing it, and adds an essential visual element. You’re watching Metallica rebuild themselves from the ground up with the scrappiest music of their career, and everything that came after – the return to form, the tours, the films – was only possible because of this return to roots first.
Metallica will perform at Las Vegas multimedia venue The Sphere from October 1 to March 13.
