The Sick, the Dying... and the Dead!

Having lost track of—and, frankly, interest in—Megadeth for many years, I rediscovered the band when I bought 2009’s Endgame more than ten years after its original release. Since at that time the release of The Sick, the Dying... and the Dead! was right around the corner and there was a lot to like about Endgame, not to mention the generally very positive reviews for 2016’s Dystopia, giving The Sick… a try seemed like a logical decision. As it turned out, it was also a very smart decision. Megadeth may have put out some underwhelming releases starting with the overly streamlined Youthanasia and especially thereafter, leaving their thrash roots behind whilst heading in a more mainstream-friendly and somewhat experimental direction, but they somehow managed to right the ship and put out some quality latter-day material, 2022’s The Sick… being no exception.

First and foremost, The Sick… is a rather diverse album, with songs varying from hard-rocking to all-out thrashing, mirroring many different phases of the band’s long and storied career. The opening title track, recounting the story of how the Black Death came to and ravaged Europe, sets the first exclamation point. It kicks off with an atmospheric intro (“Bring out your deeeaaad …”) and has a nice drive to it, a clear sense of urgency coupled with nifty guitar work and Dave Mustaine’s trademark snarl. Following his unfortunate bout with cancer it was fair to wonder whether his singing voice might have suffered in any way, but he pretty much sounds as he always has. That’s not to say Dave sounds great by any means, but then again, when has he ever been known for his vocal skills? The thing with Dave is he doesn’t have to have a particularly commanding voice or be a technically sound singer in order to be just the right singer for Megadeth. Dave simply needs to be Dave, because more so than most other bands, Megadeth are almost inconceivable without their front man’s idiosyncratic voice. Love him or hate him, but Megadeth certainly wouldn’t be Megadeth without Dave’s sometimes angry, sometimes sardonic snarl.

Following the brilliant title track, what ensues is a nice and highly entertaining blend of fast-paced technical thrash/speed and melodically charged yet still decidedly heavy (!) metal. Even the somewhat chaotic vibes known from the band’s very early albums are occasionally reintroduced, such as on the closing sledge hammer of a song named “We'll Be Back”, which deliberately recycles some riffs from 1986’s classic tune “Black Friday”. Considering how eminently enjoyable The Sick… turns out to be, Dave’s proclamation that he intends to be back sounds more like a promise than a threat, and how could it not when you’re still capable of delivering a bunch of barn burners and high-octane highlights such as the viciously shredding “Night Stalkers”, where guitarist Kiko Loureiro is given ample room to churn out some truly scorching leads and solos and where hip-hop legend Ice-T makes a brief guest appearance; for some reason, his “game’s over, bitches” line never fails to crack me up.

Dave’s reckoning with the attention whores of the social-media age, “Célebutante”, as well as the blistering “Life in Hell” and “Soldier On!” are plenty aggressive too, whereas “Killing Time” and “Dogs of Chernobyl”—at least up until that ripping closing section takes us all the way back to Peace Sells—proceed with a more measured stride, showing off the band’s more melodic side. The Sick… is in fact full of catchy choruses and “Killing Time”, apparently some sort of diatribe about one of Dave’s least favorite acquaintances, features a particularly addictive one. The solo section in this one is astonishingly good as well, with virtuoso Kiko Loureiro almost (but not quite) rivaling Marty Friedman’s unforgettable moment of pure genius on Rust in Peace’s “Tornado of Souls”. The tongue-in-cheek, rock-infused “Mission to Mars” is another definitive highlight, not only in terms of musical delivery but also with regard to the lyrics, where Dave’s characteristic sense of humor comes into play, culminating in refreshingly whimsical lines such as these:

»I headbang on the gangway, say my prayers, cross my heart and hope to die
Open a window for the Seven Sisters of Pleiades
"Hello ladies", "Hello Moon Man!"
Three hundred million miles to Mars, it doesn't seem so far away (Yes it does!)
And I wanna, I wanna be an astronaut
I wanna, I wanna, wanna«

Speaking of original lyrics, I also like how “Dogs of Chernobyl” appears to be partly written from the perspective of one of said dogs desperately searching for his missing owners.

Not very surprisingly—after all, Dave has earned a well-deserved reputation as one of the best rhythm guitarists in metal—, Mustaine’s and Kiko Loureiro’s guitar work is the true star on The Sick…, as the quick-fire salvos of precision riffing hit hard, the intricate solos vary from highly melodic to slightly chaotic and the dynamic duo never fail to infuse their shredding with plenty of addictive hooks and licks. The rhythm section is great as well, with drummer Dirk Verbeuren’s technically proficient yet song-oriented play leaving nothing to be desired. On the downside, it’s a bit of a pity that session bassist Steve DiGiorgio’s contribution doesn’t show up more prominently in the otherwise flawless mix. With a guy of his caliber, this feels almost like a waste of resources.

The very nicely done artwork, depicting good ole Vic Rattlehead in swashbuckling gear observing the horrors of plague-stricken Europe, rounds off a highly competent and, at least in this magnitude, surprisingly enjoyable package. As it turns out, sly old dog Dave Mustaine still has some tricks up his sleeve and is far from being finished. The Sick… is a little on the long side at 55 minutes and not every track is an absolute winner, but it’s not much of a stretch to say that of the bands constituting the original big four of thrash—Slayer having split up years ago, Anthrax having released their last studio album all the way back in 2016, and Metallica being more into the long-winded, artsy stuff nowadays—, Megadeth indeed look like the one with the most gas still left in the tank, which is probably the one compliment Megadave would be most flattered to hear.

Choicest cuts: The Sick, the Dying... and the Dead!, Night Stalkers, Dogs of Chernobyl, Killing Time, Mission to Mars, We'll Be Back

Rating: 8.5 out of 10 points