The coffin on the front made me wonder if it was a premonition, proof that this was indeed the end of something once great. But I had to know. I tore the clear plastic away and jammed the disc into the CD player and hit the road while it started spinning.
A fist shot out of the speaker closest to me and busted me right in the chops. I saw stars and I couldn't even hear the ringing in my ears because the wall of asskickery stampeding into my ears was too determined. Four instruments being thrashed and attacked so hard that my candyass was feeling the punishment. Metallica was back.
It brought me all the way back to when I bought my first CD with my own money, ...And Justice For all, and I learned first hand that music could indeed melt your face off.
Trees ripped themselves out of the ground and hurled themselves over cliffs because they just weren't worthy. I wanted to throw bottles of baby formula to everyone else on the road who wasn't feeling the storm that these dudes were unleashing. Strap a diaper to their heads and change lanes and be on my way.
In fact, I have to stand to type this, because my ass was kicked so much that there is significant bruising. That album was so manly that it has to be shaved before playing. After I heal up, I'll listen to Dragonforce's new album too, but for now I can only eat Jello.
Death Magnetic. Get.