This article critiques Metallica’s post-Cliff Burton era, describing the band’s decline into monotony and mediocrity after their bassist’s tragic death in 1986. The piece argues that while Burton brought dynamism, complexity, and energy to the band’s early work, his loss left Metallica producing slow, plodding, and repetitive music, a “miserabilist dirge” devoid of the fun and rebellion that once defined their sound. It highlights the band’s shift towards commercialism, repetitive riff structures, and melancholic lyrics, contrasting the thrilling chaos of their early thrash days with their later, more self-indulgent and uninspired output.
When Metallica’s legendary bassist Cliff Burton tragically died in 1986, it wasn’t just a gut-wrenching loss for the band—it was the end of the fire that burned at the heart of their music. Post-Burton, Metallica devolved from a fun, daring, and dynamic force in metal to a lumbering beast, producing what can best be described as a “miserabilist dirge” of increasingly tedious material. It’s hard not to look at large chunks of their post-Cliff output without feeling like you’re wading through mud, waiting for something—anything—to reignite the spark that made them legendary in the first place.
Cliff Burton: The Soul of Metallica’s Energy
Let’s be clear: Metallica’s early work was fun. Cliff Burton didn’t just play bass—he channelled the spirit of metal’s wild history, bringing the fury and complexity of 70s proto-metal, progressive rock, and even classical influences into the burgeoning thrash scene. There was a dynamism to it. Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets were ferocious, complex, and even joyful in how they straddled the line between chaos and precision. They ripped through your soul but still had that gleeful spark of rebellion that defined heavy metal’s birth in the first place. Burton’s contribution was vital to that mixture; he was the guy pulling from the history of metal, keeping it fresh but grounded in the genre’s roots without ever letting it feel monotonous.
But then Burton dies, and what happens? Metallica nosedives into a long, slow slog of plodding, self-important, bloated tracks that lack the fire, wit, and energy that once defined them.
A Slow Descent Into Dreary Self-Indulgence
The most glaring problem with Metallica’s post-Cliff work is the sheer dullness. Where early albums like Kill ‘Em All were fast, feral, and full of life, much of their later work is about as fun as watching paint dry. If Cliff Burton-era Metallica was an electrified buzzsaw ripping through the fabric of heavy metal, post-Burton Metallica is more like a 90-minute funeral procession for that same buzzsaw.
Take the Black Album—praised by many, yes, but when you peel back the layers, it’s just a more commercialised version of what would become their default mode: plodding, repetitive riffs drenched in an overbearing sense of “heaviness,” but without the excitement. Sure, it’s slower and more “accessible,” but it’s also the sound of Metallica waving a white flag to commercial rock radio. The endless recycling of brooding mid-tempos and “sad-but-true” lyrical themes feels contrived, turning what could’ve been a transformative moment in metal into a lesson in overwrought tedium.
From Load and Reload onwards, it’s the same story: slow, directionless, bloated songs that drag on long past the point of relevance. James Hetfield, once a beacon of energy, now sounds more like a middle-aged guy rambling on about vague personal traumas in a way that feels manufactured to justify the depressive droning that accompanies it. It’s a far cry from the raging anthems of rebellion we got in the Burton days. Cliff brought fun, vitality, and a sense of danger. Post-Cliff Metallica brings yawns.
Dirge-Like Repetition and the Loss of Metallica’s Thrash Edge
Let’s talk about what makes this music feel so dirge-like. In the post-Burton era, Metallica became obsessed with slow, crawling riffs that seem designed to do little more than drag the listener down into a pit of never-ending repetition. Their early thrash dynamism? Gone. Instead, we get tracks that drone on, like “The Memory Remains” or “The Unforgiven” trilogy, which might as well come with a free pillow for how sleep-inducing they are. It’s like they got hooked on the idea that slower equals heavier, and in doing so, they sacrificed the very thing that made thrash metal so exciting: its speed, its ferocity, and its refusal to stay still.
The repetition is relentless. Instead of building tension and release—something that Burton excelled at with his bass-driven compositions—what we get post-Burton are these extended riff loops that go nowhere, pushing the listener into a numbing trance. Even tracks like “Sad But True” or “King Nothing,” which start with promising heaviness, devolve into this plodding, circular structure where the same riff is hammered into the ground until all energy is sucked out of the song. It’s metal at its most unimaginative—a dirge in every sense of the word.
Lyrical Slog: From Defiance to Misery
Post-Burton, even Metallica’s lyrics became a miserable exercise in self-pity. Burton-era Metallica had an edge—a sense of rebellion, a call to arms against authority and societal decay. Tracks like “Fight Fire with Fire” or “Battery” were both musically and lyrically aggressive. They had teeth.
Contrast that with the lyrical content of post-Cliff albums: personal trauma, disillusionment, and emotional paralysis take centre stage, but without the bite. Hetfield’s lyrics often feel more like navel-gazing than anything truly cathartic or challenging. Tracks like “The Unforgiven” are soaked in sentimentality but lack the nuance to actually resonate beyond surface-level introspection. Where’s the fun? Where’s the fight? It’s like Metallica traded their spiked battle jackets for woolly cardigans and a cup of herbal tea.
A Miserabilist Legacy
To call much of Metallica’s later work a “miserabilist dirge” is more than just an insult—it’s an accurate reflection of how the band lost its way. They traded the kinetic, progressive energy that Burton brought for something far more monotonous, far less engaging, and ultimately, more miserable. Yes, there are still moments of brilliance here and there, but those moments are few and far between, buried under a sea of slow, self-indulgent slog that can’t hold a candle to the fire that once burned bright in Metallica’s early days.
Cliff Burton’s music was about more than just heavy riffs—it was about complexity, excitement, and yes, fun. His death marked not just the loss of a great bassist but the loss of a spirit that made Metallica’s music lively, dynamic, and engaging. What’s left after his passing? A slow, lumbering beast trudging through endless fields of “meh.” A miserabilist dirge indeed.