Like him or loathe him, Dave Mustaine has long been one of the most fascinating figures of the modern metal era.
For all his bravado, his outspokenness, his… let’s call them “traditional” and “patriotic” views (without prodding directly into that hornet’s nest) – not to mention the ease at which he’s made enemies, his habit of trashing other bands (shared by too few musicians these days) – there’s also been a vulnerability floating near the surface.
He had a tough childhood involving an absent father, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, drug taking and dealing. After Mustaine was fired, aged 22, from Metallica before their debut album was recorded, Megadeth’s rival triumphs ensued in a blizzard of substance abuse and addiction.
Later, Mustaine wished to be edited out of Metallica’s Some Kind Of Monster documentary. However, his tearful-yet-articulate appearance was the movie’s most powerful scene. Before that, he’d often come across as bitterly infuriated towards the conspirators who’d ejected him. In truth, Dave was upset and devastated, emotions that never faded.
More recently, the born-again Christian and martial arts expert has suffered various physical ailments. These include the throat cancer he fought off, after a diagnosis in 2019. Now with Dupuytren’s contracture in his left hand, making it painful to play guitar, Mustaine has declared Megadeth’s self-titled album to be their last, barring a scientific – or heavenly – miracle.
When the list-writing hacks of the near future rank Megadeth’s studio albums from best to worst, this item will sit in the mid or lower leagues. That’s testament to the enduring merits of the records in Megadeth’s bank. Theirs is a catalogue that’s also wavered from fire-cracking to damper squibbery, even if there is no absolute consensus regarding which items fall where. (Soft spot for 1999’s Risk, anyone?)
As a final statement, Megadeth wavers in temperament. This reflects Mustaine’s different sides and moods, and feasibly those of his bandmates who are, at time of writing, James LoMenzo, Dirk Verbeuren and Teemu Mäntysaari.
The first two punky numbers, ‘Tipping Point’ and ‘I Don’t Care’, are accelerator pedalled, harking back to Mustaine’s early obsessions and output. There’s humour present in the exuberant ‘Let There Be Shred’. This is Megadeth at their most Spinal Tap, and that is in no way a criticism.
There are some mid-paced, albeit melodically snarled, numbers in the centre. For the Risk fans, perhaps? The aggression and guitar solo heroism re-erupt in the second half when Mustaine revisits his preoccupations with warfare.
As for the moments of self-reflection, ‘Hey God’ addresses Mustaine’s maker as if its writer added molten riffs to a genuine prayer of his. More poignant is ‘The Last Note’, on which Dave looks back on his life and career. He dwells deeply on victories made against the odds, as well as his current decline, while still rockin’ hard. Mustaine has said that, although it wasn’t necessarily his intention, this track has moved hardened metalheads to tears. This album, and ‘The Last Note’ in particular, confronts us with a full stop.
Notwithstanding the touring commitments yet to be fulfilled, Megadeth will almost certainly be the first of “The Big Four” thrash bands to retire, considering Slayer’s lapsed departure. It is a forced withdrawal, due to the circumstances, and that seems all the sadder.
For most of Megadeth’s career, you’d have bet your bottom dollar on them holding out, defiantly and cantankerously in whatever form, until all contemporary contenders had tapped out like yielding opponents in Mustaine’s beloved jiu-jitsu tournaments. The scene will be considerably quieter without him.
