Some Kind of Monster

It's been a few days since my last post and, in that time, I got a chance to watch the highly anticipated documentary, Some Kind of Monster. A better title might be: Some Kind of Misfire.

The movie had an obvious appeal to old and young Metallica fans. It offered a two and half hour scrying stone into the recording, infighting, and mindset of the band members, during the recording of their latest studio album, St. Anger.

Now, let me preface this next sentence with the understanding that I was a HUGE Metallica fan for many years, because I will surely draw some ire. The three remaining members of the band are a couple of whiny, self absorbed jackasses. That's right, I said it.

The metal gods are human, and bad ones at that. It's hard to know where to begin, so I think I'll start with the misfired scapegoat, Jason Newstead.

For those who don't know, Jason was the replacement bass player the band recruited after long time friend and musician Cliff Burton was killed in a bus accident on tour in Sweden.

Recalling the tragedy was one of the few genuine moments I found myself sympathizing with these aged rock monoliths. For me, Cliff's most memorable contribution was on 1986's Master of Puppets on a little track called Orion.

I read that Cliff was a huge Thin Lizzy fan, and most of his work was inspired as such. Back to the movie. With teary eyes, James, Lars, and Kirk recall the black iced night on the Master of Puppets tour, when Cliff was lost. My sympathy ended there.

Throughout the movie, Jason Newstead was depicted by the band and film makers as this ungrateful Judas, who felt he no longer needed the institution that is Metallica.