#obviously there's one main one that's off limits simply because i aint a fan of keeping it in the family

[transgender-catboy]

hehehe the first thing I do after waking up is browse tf2 yaoi, hell yeah

[wizkiddx]

stop caring

yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything

tomhollandxfamous!reader

Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)

TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault

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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent. 

And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work. 

You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word. 

But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life. 

And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable. 

Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.

Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face. 

Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even. 

Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit. 

Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single. 

Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh. 

It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to. 

He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to  and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind. 

OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms. 

In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with. 

Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag. 

By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe. 

Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?

The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both. 

One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in. 

You were going to be sick. 

Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out. 

So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe. 

Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs. 

This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…

Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled. 

Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening. 

Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now. 

This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.

Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh. 

“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state.  “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”

The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist. 

“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”

“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.

“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.

“Is …is this your first one… since?  You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up. 

“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence. 

“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”

Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his. 

It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right. 

Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was  you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle. 

“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”

“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.

“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it.  Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest. 

“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in. 

“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it. 

Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line. 

You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.

“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you. 

“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.

“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks. 

At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence. 

“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.

“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”

“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead. 

“He’s a dick.”

“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”

“What?”

“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too. 

He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying. 

“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over. 

“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”

Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.

And you were about to dive in all over again. 

But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally. 

Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.

“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment. 

‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”

“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to”

“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders. 

“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice. 

“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips. 

“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you. 

“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..

“Thankyou Tom.”

part 2 ish of sorts --> link

[highandlowculture]

A (Sort of) Reappraisal of Metallica’s Load & Re-Load

The much-maligned second disc of Metallica’s Hardwired... To Self-Destruct has grown on me.

A bit.

As such, I thought it only fair to give Load and Re-Load a reappraisal. After all, like many fans, I’ve criticized Hardwired’s second disc for being too sluggish, meatheaded and overall Load-ish (whereas the first disc is Grade A thrash and classic metal). My relationship with Load and Re-Load has been shaky at best. Sometimes I think they’re underrated, but oftentimes I think they’re bloated and drag. When Load was dropped in 1996 I was over Metallica and most mainstream rock music. MTV and the airwaves were glutted with corporate grunge and ska (all of which could be labeled “Alternative” by kids shopping at Hot Topic). It was a shit time for rock music. I had turned to hip-hop and old funk albums. Most of my beloved metal bands from my teen years had turned into trend-followers rather than trend-setters. And even if some of these albums I’ve grown to love in recent years, let’s face it: Megadeth, Testament and even Overkill slowed down their music. Thrash was dead. Metal, for the most part, was dead. Mötley Crüe and Anthrax not only drastically changed their sound, they made it a point to replace their lead vocalists with dudes who didn’t shout “1980s” so much. And, course, Metallica cut their hair and released Load: An album so slow and filled with wah-wah guitar solos, the band was quickly dubbed "Alternallica". Most people blame Nirvana and the Seattle grunge scene on metal’s identity crises in the mid 1990s, but it kind of started with, guess who?

Metallica.

Released months before Nirvana’s Nevermind and Soundgarden’s Bad Motorfinger, Metallica’s eponymous 1991 album (a.k.a. “The Black Album”) was ahead of the curve. The only breakthrough grunge album that predated The Black Album was Alice in Chains’ Facelift. There was a handful of bona fide grunge albums released by underground acts (Mudhoney, The Melvins and Sub-Pop era Nirvana), but the general public didn’t know they existed. To most people, it was Alice In Chains’ first big hit, “Man In The Box”, that lead to rumblings about the Seattle grunge scene (even though the song had more in common with Ozzy Osbourne than Buzz Osborne). Of course the first wave of grunge was initially considered an annex of metal; all of the Seattle bands’ videos had heavy rotation on Headbanger’s Ball right alongside thrash and hair metal bands. Thrash and grunge bands were more in alliance against the popular hair metal of the late 80s than they were against one another; both music scenes incorporated punk and classic metal elements; both were anti-image and strived for authenticity. But whereas grunge was simpler and ultimately more accessible, thrash was complex and sometimes progressive music.

Commercially, and perhaps creatively, Metallica took thrash to its utmost limits with 1989’s ...And Justice For All. Their subsequent decision to embrace slower tempos and more traditional song structures resulted in their biggest commercial success and a watershed moment in popular music. Not only was The Black Album chock-full of MTV hits, it introduced mainstream listeners to music far heavier than anything they had listened to before. The Black Album had set up Nevermind’s success, not the other way around. And you want to talk about grunge? “Sad But True” and “The God That Failed” are almost categorically grunge (the former essentially being a reworking of their 1988 song “Harvester of Sorrow”). So to suggest Metallica was jumping onto any kind of band wagon in 1996 is erroneous at best. They helped construct the wagon. I’d also argue that bands like Megadeth, Testament and Overkill were thinking “Black Album” with their subsequent, less thrashy albums moreso than Nevermind (Overkill’s I Hear Black being the strongest of these post Black Album releases IMO).

So The Black Album helped change popular music and possibly destroyed the burgeoning thrash movement.

Metallica weren’t following trends, they were setting them.

But does this make Load and Re-Load not suck?

At very least, you might think they suck for different reasons.

Keep in mind, by 1996 grunge had peaked. Kurt Cobain had been dead for a couple years. The first wave of Seattle bands were now being outsold by the likes of No Doubt and Alanis Morissette. If any of those flannel-wearing motherfuckers had a dream, it was over. This was the musical climate in which the Metallicats dropped their big Load on music listeners. It was an album recorded by rich men who had already made the myths (both creatively and commercially) and now could release any damn thing they pleased. Was anyone not going to buy Metallica’s long-awaited follow-up to The Black Album?

I didn’t at the time, but, y’know... most people did.

If Metallica was in any position, it was Guns N’ Roses’ position in 1991: When they released Use Your Illusion I and Use Your Illusion II.

And this is just one way Load and Re-Load are similar to the Use Your Illusion albums. I think the UYI albums are better than the Load albums. There are enough good songs on UYI I & II to justify two albums IMO. Load and Re-Load: Not so much. Still, there’s no denying the similarities: They’re both essentially a double album that was released in two parts (in Metallica’s case they simply waited a year to release the second part). The UYI and Load albums show both bands echoing 1970s classic rock (I’ll expand on this in a bit). UYI I and Load are both more accessible and hard-rock driven; UYI II and Re-Load are both darker and more experimental. Both set of albums divided fans upon release and they still do. The one area, however, where the UYI and Load eras differ is image. Whereas Guns N’ Roses essentially still looked like Guns N’ Roses, Metallica introduced an entirely new look with Load’s release. No doubt, this was one of the reasons hardcore fans felt betrayed in 1996. Metallica had short haircuts and dressed like the rich rock stars they now were! Obviously this had nothing to do with grunge; if anything it was more metal to dress flashy than it was to wear a flannel. No, the band didn’t look grungy.

They looked positively slick!

Yes, they were abandoning their anti-image ethos of the thrash era, but hadn’t that ethos already been co-opted by the grunge and subsequent “alternative rock” movement? By 1996, it was more rebellious to dress sharp and smoke cubans than it was to just wear jeans and a muscle shirt. That being said, Lars and Kirk’s decision to wear eyeliner was perhaps a bit much. At very least, it didn’t ring with sincerity, which I suspect is one of the main reasons it rubbed fans the wrong way. Maybe Lars thought it was cool to play Bowie and go theatrical, but James sure as hell didn’t like it (take note he didn’t put on the makeup at the time, only Lars and Kirk did). I’d argue that if the band had reintroduced themselves with “The Memory Remains” video rather than the “Until It Sleeps” video, they wouldn’t have polarized as many fans. Black dress shirts and sunglasses just say slick rocker dudes. They might be rich, but they still drink beer. Eyeliner and Hieronymus Bosch references say art snobs.

So their new image was half cool / half uncool.

And the music followed suit.

Out of the gate “Ain’t My Bitch” is a different Metallica, but rather than “Alternallica” I’d label them “Hard Rockallica”. This is just straight-up, down & dirty, rock ‘n’ roll. The type of music you can imagine playing in a biker bar. There’s a bluesy element, with even a slide guitar solo, that wasn’t present in their music before. It’s rootsy, but it’s not exactly their roots. James, like a lot of children of the 1970s, listened to Aerosmith, but by the time he was interacting with Lars in the early 80s it was all about the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal. Even Black Sabbath wasn’t a huge influence on Metallica in these early days; their influences were N.W.O.B.H.M. bands like Iron Maiden, Saxon, Venom and especially Diamond Head. That’s until Cliff Burton joined the group. I always find it funny when metalheads declare that Metallica wouldn’t have gone in the musical direction that they did in the 1990s if Cliff had lived. I guess they don’t know much about Cliff and his musical role in the band. In addition to being an innovative bassist who introduced the brash young band to classical music, Cliff also opened their minds to a lot of 1970s bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd and Blue Öyster Cult. Thus, I find it hard to imagine Cliff would take issue with the band diving deeper into southern rock and gonzo biker rock. Maybe the songs would’ve been stronger with him around, but the general direction wouldn’t have changed.

Anyway, “Aint‘ My Bitch” is a catchy enough rocker. Not the strongest track to ever open an album, that’s for sure! It sounds like a better Side Two or Side Three opener. “2 X 4” is my favorite song off Load. This is a song that could easily be mistaken for grunge because it’s slow and sludgy, but I’d argue it’s got too much of a bluesy swing to be grunge. It struts with attitude. Grunge seldom struts. Most of Load is simply 70s influenced hard rock; Metallica’s N.W.O.B.H.M. influences being traded-in completely for the type of music Cliff Burton loved: Skynyrd, Sabbath, Thin Lizzy, and especially Blue Öyster Cult (all of whom were covered on 1998’s Garage Inc.). While most people are familiar with “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper”, it’s the first three Blue Öyster Cult albums that Metallica draws the most from: 1972’s Blue Öyster Cult, 1973’s Tyranny & Mutation and 1974’s Secret Treaties. Bluesy in a strange, deconstructed manner; hard-rocking yet moody; experimental but still grounded enough for that biker bar; these early BOC albums laid much of the groundwork for Load and Re-Load. They’re also damn fine albums. You should go out and buy ‘em!

Back to Metallica…

“2 X 4” is the kind of menacing deep track that should be loved by both metal and hard rock fans. Between that tough-as-nails guitar riff and James shouting “I can’t hear ya, are ya talkin’ ta me!”, it’s a definite throw down song. But it’s also a lousy choice for a second track. Load doesn’t begin with a strong one-two punch like “Enter Sandman” and “Sad But True” on The Black Album. Load’s first two songs are almost, dare I say, subtle?

Well, as subtle as you can get with “Bitch” in the title.

“The House That Jack Built” is a solid Alice In Chains ripoff. Does this give credence to the whole Alternallica thing? Not if you don’t fall for marketing and know Alice In Chains was always a metal band. Regardless, there’s a bigger issue. The first three songs on Load are all accessible, but none of them scream “Hit Song” (and “The House That Jack Built” is way too long for a third track). What’s going on here? Doesn’t Metallica want to rule MTV anymore?

Then “Until It Sleeps” creeps in and it’s Hitsville, USA! A great, brooding, pop dirge (who’d ever believe there was such a thing). Similar to “The Unforgiven”, it manages to be really depressing yet catchy at the same time. In fact, I think it would’ve worked better as a second single (a’la “The Unforgiven”). It doesn’t announce ’96 Metallica the way, say, “Enter Sandman” announced them to the MTV crowd. It shouldn’t come to a surprise by now that I think Load and Re-Load should've been condensed to a single album or at least a tight double album. And like I wrote earlier, I think “The Memory Remains” would’ve been a stronger lead-off single. As a song it just makes much more of a statement. Between the creepy Marianne Faithful nursery-rhyme and its total embrace of classic rock groove, it definitely announces itself. And although Load is the more accessible of the two albums, Re-Load is the one that opens with a one-two punch: “Fuel” and “The Memory Remains”. There’s a reason why they’re the only two songs from this era the band still play in concert. They’re both catchy as hell. And “Fuel” kicks things off like a big, heavy metal party.

But back to Load…

“King Nothing” is decent-enough, but Metallica-By-Numbers (it’s the track that’s most reminiscent of The Black Album). “Hero of the Day” sounds designed for Modern Rock Radio and as such, it’s the song that most warrants the Alternallica stigma. It’s a well-written and catchy tune, even if it doesn’t do much for me personally. I think it would’ve worked better as a stand-alone single, released like a year or two after the album. Y’know, like on a soundtrack or charity album. “Bleeding Me” is a cool, art rock tune in the BOC vein. “Cure”, “Poor Twisted Me” and “Wasting My Hate” are all B-Side material. “Mama Said” is a pretty country song, but since this is a Metallica album, it might not be the best place for it. In my proposed alternate reality, James saves “Mama Said” for a country side project: Dead Bear In My Pickup Truck. I can never remember what “Thorn Within” sounds like, even while I’m listening to it, so it can’t be very good, right? I actually like “Ronnie”. The riff reminds me of AC/DC’s “Gone Shootin’”. A groovy, southern rocker that’s obviously filler, but good filler to these ears. With the album’s closer, “The Outlaw Torn”, they’re again on BOC mode: A gonzo biker rock epic! Apparently they kept jamming at the end, so the over nine minute album version is the short version!

Overall, I do think Re-Load is more metal than Load. It’s less bluesy and there’s also less wah-wah. Now I like myself a little wah-wah, but what Kirk did on Load could be considered wah-wah abuse. The man is lucky he didn’t get arrested. Right out of the gate with “Fuel”, Re-Load puts some of the metal back into Hard Rockallica. I guess a lot of metalheads take issue with the song because it’s fun. Like Motörhead and Judas Priest were always gloomy or something. Funny, because a lot of metalheads also love AC/DC and God knows they know how to party! Why can’t a band that was once lovingly nicknamed “Alcohollica” write a NASCAR friendly party song? Loosen up, people. I think “Fuel” makes for a better Motörhead tribute than Hardwired’s “Murder One”. Lemmy wrote a few dirges, but he was primarily about speed and “burning hard”. Re-Load’s second track, “The Memory Remains”, is my favorite track and it has to be one of the weirdest hit singles ever. It reminds me, conceptually at least, of BOC’s “Joan Crawford”. See what I did there? I brought it back to BOC. But let’s return to Re-Load and its third track: “Devil’s Dance”. Another great tune. Dark and sludgy metal with the word “Devil” in the title. So that’s three great songs in a row, does this album own Load or what!?

Hold it. I should’t whip out my dick yet.

There’s a drop-off.

And it starts with the fourth track, “The Unforgiven II”. A woefully unnecessary and inferior sequel. It’s essentially “The Unforgiven” in reverse: The heavy guitar verses become clean guitar verses, the clean guitar chorus becomes a heavy guitar chorus. So the most interesting thing about “The Unforgiven”, the way it subverted the clean verse to heavy chorus structure, is replaced with a more formulaic and traditional metal ballad structure. Whose idea was this? “Hey, guys!” Lars walks into the studio, after buying a Picasso, and addresses the band. “Why don’t we do “The Unforgiven” again, but this time around we make it more ordinary!” There’s some nice guitar work, but it’d be better served on a new Skynyrd-esque ballad than an uninspired “Unforgiven” sequel. And to think it was a single!?

“Better Than You” is another dud. A mundane track that makes way too much of a mundane lyric. “Slither” is a lesser “King Nothing”; maybe a good B-side. I can’t believe I like a Metallica song entitled “Carpe Diem Baby”, but I do. The song begins with a thick bluesy riff (they didn’t entirely jettison Load’s bluesyness), then slowly marches to a brilliant curveball of a chorus: It’s bittersweet yet infectious. The kind of tonal shift BOC often pulled-off on their earlier albums (even the song’s title is BOC-ish). I don’t hate “Bad Seed”, but if you’re referencing Sabbath’s mighty “Sweet Leaf” you damn well need a better song than this! “Where The Wild Things Are” is a creepy, experimental ditty. It’s weird enough to charm me, but it’s best tucked towards the end of an album. “Prince Charming” is stupid and wouldn’t even make a good B-side. I love “Low Man’s Lyric”. That’s right: I LOVE IT! A world-weary ballad that wouldn’t have sounded out-of-place on a Led Zeppelin or Thin Lizzy album. I don’t know why 70s hard rock and metal bands are allowed to have ballads, but Metallica are cocksuckers if they show their sensitive side.

“Attitude” might be a generic rocker, but it’s better than “Better Than You” and “Prince Charming”. At least it helps pick up the tempo. And like Load ended with “The Outlaw Torn”, Re-Load ends with a gonzo biker rock epic: “Fixxxer”. Again, like BOC, hard-rocking but vaguely psychedelic. Hippie music for people who don’t like hippies.

So the ratio of good songs versus subpar songs is roughly the same on Load and Re-Load.

It probably should’ve been a single disc, but in 1996 Metallica fans had been waiting five years for a new studio album! Therefore, in my alternate reality, I’ll be generous and make it a tight double album: Eight songs per disc. Overall, I think this version works better:

Disc One

1.) Fuel 2.) The Memory Remains 3.) Devil’s Dance 4.) Until It Sleeps 5.) King Nothing 6.) The House That Jack Built 7.) Bleeding Me 8.) Fixxxer

Disc Two

1.) Ain’t My Bitch 2.) 2 X 4 3.) Ronnie 4.) Low Man’s Lyric 5.) Carpe Diem Baby 6.) Attitude 7.) Where The Wild Things Are 8.) The Outlaw Torn

It’s still called Load, which is a good name for a double album, but the band retain their classic logo.

And this is the album cover…!!