St. Anger is the eighth studio album by American heavy metal band Metallica, released on June 5, 2003 through Elektra Records. Not only was it the band's first album of the 21st century, but it was the band's last album released through Elektra, thus marking the end of the longest timespan between studio albums from Metallica, with nearly six years between the release of ReLoad and this album. St. Anger was originally intended for release on June 10, 2003, but was released five days earlier due to concerns over unlicensed distribution through peer-to-peer file sharing networks. The album marks the final collaboration between Metallica and producer Bob Rock, whose relationship began with the band's fifth studio album, 1991's Metallica. St. Anger is the first Metallica album since Master of Puppets that does not feature long-time bassist Jason Newsted. Newsted left the band prior to the initial sessions for the album, leaving Rock to temporarily take his place until a permanent replacement could be found. It is also the first album since ...And Justice for All to have a title track. Recording of the album initially started on April 24, 2001, but was postponed indefinitely when rhythm guitarist and singer James Hetfield entered rehab for "alcoholism and other addictions". St. Anger is often recognized for being a radical musical departure from Metallica's earlier work; it features a heavy metal style, raw production, and no guitar solos. St. Anger debuted at the top of sales charts in 30 countries, including the US Billboard 200. Upon its release, it met mixed critical reviews and has since gained less favorable reception. In 2004, the album's lead single, "St. Anger", won a Grammy Award for "Best Metal Performance". The album was certified 2x platinum by the RIAA and has sold over 6 million copies worldwide. In Metal Edge's 2003 Readers' Choice Awards, the album was voted in two mutually incompatible categories: Best Album Cover and Worst Album Cover. The single, St. Anger", was voted Video of the Year.
<b>100 Best Albums</b> It’d be interesting to know just how many suburban kids learned about Che Guevara, or that the FBI targeted Martin Luther King for his opposition to the Vietnam War, from <i>Rage Against the Machine</i>. It isn’t that its politics are obscure. If anything, part of the reason the album remains so powerful is the way it captures the generalised angst kids feel towards parents (“F**k you, I won’t do what you tell me!”) while also pointing at broader forms of control regarding education (“Take the Power Back”), law enforcement (“Killing in the Name”) and the carceral system (“Settle for Nothing”). Like Nirvana’s <i>Nevermind</i> or even the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ <i>Blood Sugar Sex Magik</i>, it reshaped ’90s rock and helped bring underground styles into the mainstream. It also plugs into a world beyond itself—the kind of music you can take to the gym but also build a syllabus around.<br /> Like the revolutionaries, MCs and hard rock that inspired it, <i>Rage Against the Machine</i> exists in all caps. Its most lasting lyrics—“Some of those that work forces/Are the same that burn crosses” (“Killing in the Name”), “Anger is a gift” (“Freedom”)—have the instant memorability of a protest chant; its riffs democratise their anger, having been stripped of the flashy, technical stuff and restored to the Black blues they come from. The immediacy isn’t just a metaphor for their message; it’s a functional way to spread the word and put power into the hands of the people: Why bother learning “Stairway to Heaven” when you can just learn “Bombtrack”?<br /> It’s easy to see the ironies of a multi-platinum band advocating for radical left politics. But the music business has always found ways to monetise rebellion, from Elvis to John Lennon to the Sex Pistols. <i>Rage Against the Machine</i> transcends its contradictions by standing inside them and giving itself over anyway. Guitarist Tom Morello remembers a record executive hearing the band practice “Killing in the Name” as Zack de la Rocha screamed, “F**k you, I won’t do what you tell me!” 16 times. The exec sheepishly asked if this was the direction that they were going in. Yes, Morello said, it was. But just remember: He didn’t have to.