Ok, this forum is to decide, finally, once and for all, which album is best, out of the nine studio albums our rock gods have put out. Your arguments will depend on your musical knowledge and ability to sound like anything other than a complete asshole. Your choices for albums (as if you shouldn't know) do not include Binge and Purge or Garage Inc., as they both include songs written by those other than Metallica. Kill 'Em All is included on the grounds that I Am Evil and Blitzkrieg are labeled as "Bonus Tracks" and may not be used in your argument for best album. The nine included albums are as follows, in chronological order.

Kill 'Em All
Ride The Lightning
Master of Puppets
...and Justice for All
Metallica (Self titled, known mainly as The Black Album)
Load
Reload
St. Anger
Death Magnetic

And now to cast my vote.

Master of Puppets. And I say this because every single song is absolutely beautiful. I remember hearing Battery for the first time, it was at a show in L.A., in 1986 and I remember vividly the moment when the electrics crashed in through the steel string acoustics. It was like being punched in the face, the sheer impact of the music almost broke my nose. (Or maybe it had something to do with my standing in the middle of the moshpit with my mouth gaping open at the awesomeness of this tour.) I stood in complete wonder through Damage Inc., and slowly lost my sanity through Welcome Home. H.P. Lovecraft was brought back to life by their inspiring performance of The Thing That Should Not Be, then Disposable Heroes gave me a horrifying visage of what was to come in my service to the military fifteen years later. Leper Messiah pulled a twist out of organized Christianity, and then...
And then came the first four chords from Master of Puppets itself. They tore into my soul like a shard of broken glass. Life was torn away to be replaced with the urge to bang my head as hard as possible and bitch my way through the hangover, whiplash, bruises and sprains the next morning would bring. The chorus would come, and between each shout of Master, Master, the crowd was almost reverently silent, save for the bustling of the mosh pit and the numerous emergency vehicles parked nearby with their sirens on. And when the heavyness gave way to the slower ballad area of the song, it was a musical orgasm. I closed my eyes, gently appreciating this epic work of beauty put before me. And then the distortion closed in, and that animal instinct to knock the moshing men around me out of their skulls set in once more, and the rest is a blur of blood, sweat, and chords. I just remember James' final laugh as the song ended, and the show was over. It was the greatest thing I have ever experienced. It was well worth the thousand four hundred dollars it cost to go and get back home in New York at the time. Money well spent on a life-altering experience.

...your turn.

This post was edited by MnMz4L1F3 (2009-05-18 GMT, 479 days ago)