Deathly Enigmatic

My favorite point of the week has come again: New Release Tuesday. Yay! Nothing too exciting is coming out. I will point out the best and worst of this week. It feels like a bit of a comeback week for two titans in two respective genres. Metallica - the Rick Rubin Created Monster - is reanimated and is battling for our consciousness. And Nelly's subtle follow-up to mega hits Sweat and Suit.

Nelly has come to turn in hit after hit, but with little buildup, this latest album falls short of anything halfway decent. With the opening track, "Hold Up" featuring piercing, shrilly yelps and screams, the process has more than fallen apart in his four year hiatus. With Nate Dogg just suffering his second heart attack in the same year, his callabo with Snoop sounds like he hasn't fully recovered. Perhaps, Nelly's new acquired and perhaps "bought" muscle has taken away from the touch in his delivery.

"Lie" perhaps demonstrates Nelly's oddities best. As the melody gently lays a bed thick and tranquil, Nelly sounds screamy and off balance. Within the first four tracks, "Myspace" the website is already mentioned four times and without probable cause. And Jesus Christ, if any more single lines could be repeated you might think this was a lost episode of Barney's Sing Along. "Hell naw, He just stepped on my J'z/Hell naw, He just stepped on my J'z"...etc. It doesn't help that on nearly every single track Nelly is outright out rapped and out done. It's interesting he has taken such a fancy in producing an album with T.I., cause he will absolutely get dismissed by the Southern King.

In his first released single, "Party People" Nelly sounds off on another mindless anthem only with Fergie sitting sidekick. At around 1:45, I found myself reaching for a shot of bourbon...or a shot out of my Desert Eagle. If you were to listen off-handedly, it sounds like Nelly is saying, "Where my Potty People at?" Answer: They are swimming with this album. He may look like the Hulk, but he raps like him too. Poor showing for an artist that has plenty of critical favor and hardware for his earlier work.

Next comes Metallica's Death Magnetic. Marking the first album without long-time producer, Bob Rock, and choosing rock demigod Rick Rubin. This guy could make your high school garage band into the next rock icons, let alone a proven commodity like Metallica. Upon first listen, this album comes roaring out of the gate. Hetfield sounds as good as ever and while the sound is stylized and slick, it reminisces of that remodeled 60' cherry-red Camaro in your father's garage. It may not have the bells and whistles of newer models, but what lies under the hood is a beast and unparalleled.

The criticism that followed St. Anger was that of Lars' steely snare and loss of guitar solos. They are fixed here and this catalog of songs fall right in line with any hit made a decade or more ago. "The Day That Never Comes" is the first single from the album and it is the fourth longest track on the album coming in at 7:56. Marking a spectacular instrumental intro, this song capitalizes the essence of the record. Fast and free, the band has come home and embraced its legacy as one of the hardest rock bands to ever form. A nice surprise and constant reminder that you should never count out a band as solid as this one.

One thing about Metallica happens to be for every three great rock songs, there is usually a great slower-tempo song that displays a rugged beauty. "The Unforgiven III" cuts the album in half and sets a tone as the highlight track as the aching, somber Hetfield almost croons at times. "How can I be lost/If I got nowhere to go/Search the seas of gold/How come it's got so cold?" Screaming for forgiveness in absolute, laughable disregard for whether it comes true is a turnabout from the pandering of Hetfield in St. Anger. While the album feels a little long and glossy, I'll take Metallica over just about any metal band at the moment.

A mediocre offering was delivered from DJ Khaled's Miami touting crew. Besides a couple of tracks, "Defend Dade" and "Out Here Grindin'," Khaled is getting old. His beats and songs are sounding like the rest and he is leaving the tired melodies up to the all-star list of rappers to save his mediocre, paltry palate of repetitive effects. One highlight track is "Go Hard" feat. Kanye West and T-Pain. Kanye absolutely tears the track up and displays a drastically different rhyming pattern than the laid back style people are accustomed to. With a feast of aggressive, lively lyrics, Kanye sums up his unbridled energy with, "I'm gonna tell you what George Bush told me/Fuck y'all niggas I'm outta here." Never one to shy away from controversy, the Louis Vitton Don hit this one out of the park and therefore saved a rather useless album filled full of songs that might entertain the mindless youth.

And lastly, the most incoherent garble of an album that has ever been made. Oregon's own (even though Seattle grown), Kristy Lee Cook, said friend of Britney Spears, takes flight with her God-awful album entitled, Why Wait. I have one reason to wait: her last track is the awful rendition of "God Bless America." Many apologies to those looking for reviews of Darius Rucker's new album. I wouldn't want to toss out opinion without an actual listen, but I'm going to pass.





Nelly - Brass Knuckles - 3.2 Best Tracks: Hot in Hurr and Country Grammar (not featured on crappy new album)

Metallica - Death Magnetic - 7.5 Best Tracks: Cyanide, The Broken, Beat, and Scarred, The Day That Never Comes, Unforgiven III

DJ Khaled - We Global - 4.3 Best Tracks: Out Here Grindin and Go Hard

Kristy Lee Cook - Why Wait - 2 I won't even try your patience



This. Is. Truth.