Metallica "Master of Puppets" [1986]

The only band whose stadium audience's collective IQ barely reaches 500, Metallica named itself that specifically because it knew the band's legions of fans would be uniformly drawn to shiny, metallic objects. Basically doubling-down on the cards dealt to Judas Priest, Metallica drives trite guitar riffs off the cliff, then tries to change time signatures and not get beaten up by their own songs in the process. They fail every time. Add to this the vaguely (anti-intellectually) fascistic lyrical point of view ("Master of Puppets"? Machiavelli much?) and the sickening instrumental guitar balladry that sunk bands like Yes years before, and what you have is great music to formulate trailer meth by. Clearly, they were ahead of their time. Metallica did make tons of dough, however, from what I can only guess was endorsement money from hair-product companies anxious to cash in on its vast numbers of Middle American lemmings thirsting for loud guitars so badly it settled for this dreck. Only Metallica could ever get laid with Metallica music, but this album salves those who had no chance in the first place.