Sunday, January 2, 2011

Mustaine

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Dave getting his Master of the Universe and Creator of All Metal award.
Spoilers lie ahead!

When I heard Mega-angry Megadave's autobiography had been released, I immediately rushed off to the bookstore. For half a year or so I had been anticipating the boiling rage and stewing bitterness, years or fury and frustration finally put down on paper.
Except, of course, for all the details that were omitted so that the publishing company could avoid getting sued. If Dave did have to censor himself, it's not noticeable - the book is crammed with annecdotes about James and Lars regurgitating food into each other's mouths like perverted birds, Nick Menza's fascination with gay porn, overdoses, sex addiction, and nervous breakdowns, but all in all it reads more like a trashy tabloid that the history of a thrash titan. Especially since Mustaine has gone off the religious deep end now - did you see him having his group prayer in the Big Four concert DVD? Profoundly disturbing.
As William James said, "The only radical remedy I know for dipsomania is religiomania."
That's not to say Mustaine's book isn't worth reading - it's fascinating to find out Dave's justifications for all the feuds he started (Dave's hate list), and plumb the depths of his monstrous ego. Megadeth's history is broken down into bite-sized chunks, with chapter titles like "I pray the Lord my soul to keep - I'm tired of the tour, I'm tired of Megadeth, I'm not having any fun... and you don't want me to drink, so I'm taking Valium instead".
The book makes sense out of chaos, explaining the why's and how's of the numerous line-up changes that Megadeth has gone through. Dave also dishes out the reasoning behind hos dodgy career moves, like "Risk".
The only problem is that it's all very cheap and undignified. Dave comes across as part Hasselhoff and part Terminator, and the book makes it harder to respect him as a person.
The ending is especially unsatisfying. It arrives all of a sudden, as if Mustaine and Layden had no idea how to finish up so they just arbitrarily cut the cord wherever. Dave weaves in a lame religious parable and then comes up with this cringe-worthy finale: "At some point, you have to wonder how many times does God have to say 'Dude, I love you,' before I straighten up for good? I've got everything a man could want, and then some. It's time."
Terrible!! Victorians used to tell their children or servants or something that they should be seen but not heard. A similar rule applies to Dave: he is meant to be listened to, but not known, because who he is is kind of disappointing.
So my verdict is: half interesting, half a let-down, but a guilty pleasure nonetheless.