Today is James Hetfield's birthday, an occasion that deserves due reverence and celebration. I myself fully support showing love and appreciation but personally was a little lost as were to begin. You see, every day is Metallica Day for me. I thought maybe I would write some sort of tribute, a fan letter of sorts detailing Mr. Hetfield's talent, the depth of his awesomeness and the contribution he's made to music and pop culture in the 30 years since he and Lars formed Metallica, but at the very last minute I realized I am not lame. (Celebration to coincide with Hetfield-centric festivities.)
Could I maybe take a cue from the mission of the blog and, with much love and respect, take the opportunity to mock some of the lyrics of eighteen year-old Hetfield? That's basically insane seeing as the worst Metallica song is still better than your best neo-hipster-pseudo-folk-hip-hop-pop-fusion-in-skinny-jeans schlock any day. Believe. I could perhaps write a thinly-veiled diatribe about his quasi-fans, maybe those chicks who proclaim their Metall-allegiance to impress a dude or out of some weird obsession with Hetfield himself, explaining how they need to show some respect to the generosity and the genius of the man, and riddle said rant with obscure references known only to the true fan, but then you all would be clapping along to a kick drum thing and not know where the hell it was going. Dilemmas abound while "No Remorse" plays in the background.
In the end I decided to simply say THANK YOU* and put up a clip that says all of the above and then some.
You can't spell Metallica without "me",
*For everything, but especially for putting up with fans like me, and also for what happens around the 6:20 mark.