Hardwired...To Self-Destruct

This is the adult Metallica at last, monolithic, grandiose and grizzled. Maturity suits the band, makes them a weightier proposition than the pursuit of former glories ever could. [Dec 2016, p.62]

Beginning and ending on a high note, Hardwired miraculously leaves the listener hungry for more, following an all-out binge on some of Metallica’s strongest work since 1991.

There’s plenty of returning to old ground, but this is not a derivative record, and neither is it a return to form. It finds Metallica rediscovering what makes them tick.

When they lock into a winning riff, as on Confusion and Atlas, Rise!, there are still few better bands around.

The subject matter might be bleak, but there’s a lust for life on this album that will leave a smile on the faces of their millions of fans, and even on a few of those grumpy old ones.

If the riffs don't always sink in deeply--and if the entire production feels slightly monochromatic--what impresses here is the thought and musicality within the compositions and the performances, elements that have always been at the band's core and shine brightly on Hardwired... To Self-Destruct.

Some judicious editing could have made it a classic, but either way this is a triumphant return to form.

While Hardwired... To Self-Destruct isn’t dissimilar in delivery to their last record, 2008’s ‘Death Magnetic’, Metallica still--in their fifties--remain both vital and innovative.

The mostly epic-length tracks--almost entirely written by drummer Lars Ulrich and singer-guitarist James Hetfield--are melodically assured furies of serial riffing and tempo shocks.

By the time disc one wraps with the anthemic Halo On Fire, Metallica have already produced the excellent album expected of them. [Jan 2017, p.109]

Freed from that angst, the group sound more savage, more inspired and, crucially, more fun than they have for a quarter of a century. [Dec 2016, p.88]

Hardwired… To Self-Destruct is the best Metallica record in 25 years, but it’s not going to blow minds.

Spread over two discs, it can get a little samey, but "Here Comes Revenge" and "Moth Into Flame" have plenty of bounce. [Jan 2017, p.27]

There’s no attempt to recapture their classic sound, no blatant radio single, and not even an attempt at performing more than what they’re comfortable with. If you’ve followed Metallica beyond the black album, you’ll find a very good, honest, release in Hardwired… To Self-Destruct.

At times the results are exhilarating, as on the superb ‘Moth Into Flame’ and doomy death-march of ‘Confusion’--written from the perspective of a soldier with post-traumatic stress disorder--but there’s a smattering of filler, too. Too many tracks outstay their welcome by a matter of minutes.

Its twelve songs–the vast majority of which extend well past the five-minute mark–fall into two categories: galloping nods to Ride the Lightning, of which the first disc is primarily composed, and doomier mid-tempo cuts à la Sabbath, which make up the bulk of the second. The LP’s highlights--“Hardwired,” “Moth Into Flame,” “Atlas, Rise!” all fall into the former camp, front-loading the record with fire. The second disc, by contrast, is a slog through nondescript, uniform chug, devoid of dynamics or instrumental nuance.

Hardwired is a slightly less gripping version of the same, as is Moth Into Flame. There’s some sweet doom in the form of Dream No More, an obvious Sabbath homage, and a nod to their late mentor Lemmy with Murder One. In between, we’re treated to a lot of mid-tempo plodding.

It's too long, with too many tracks that go nowhere. But those songs that do work are some of their best in the last couple of decades.

Problem is, this is essentially the same stuff they released in 2008, and since there are 77 minutes of it, it's entirely too much of the same stuff.

Hardwired is two CDs, 12 tracks and 80 minutes of in-your-face, punch-to-the-guts, dense, harsh, shouty rage with absolutely no let-up. Frankly, if it was half as long it would be twice as effective.

They would have been wiser to trim more of the fat from the 12-track, two disc affair. In comparison to Death Magnetic's thrash-first approach, Hardwired features more mid-tempo material reminiscent of the band's divisive Load/Reload years, which bogs down the record's second disc in particular.

A bumpy ride overall, but with enough peaks to excuse the more pedestrian sections.

At nearly 80 minutes, it’s understandable for an album like Hardwired… to Self-Destruct to have lulls, but the band gets way too comfortable way too early.

Most of these songs have good parts--they’re just lost in long, boring stretches of the band faintly nodding off to their distant, better work.

It's an album that would be far improved if it were chopped in half.

Hardwired is never embarrassing in the way of St. Anger or Lulu, but it’s rarely revelatory either. It’s not so much that Metallica is incapable of writing a good song in 2016; it’s just a little too complacent to write a truly great one.

Hardwired... to Self-Destruct, on the other hand, is a tired and somewhat cynical album that’s simply responding to market demand. It’s kind of like when your dad busts out his old-school skate board—cool for a bit, but, after day three of him “getting back into it” (he also refuses to change out of his old Pink Floyd shirt), you just want him to stop.