The lyricist James Hetfield thought he could never write like: “I’m not gonna do that”
Is James Hetfield one of the world’s best-ever rock guitarists? Absolutely, sure. But one of the best lyricists? Maybe not so much. Look, he can obviously get by – Metallica wouldn’t still be going strong now after over 40 years without it – but that’s not to say that his words often are the most profound. To give Hetfield his dues, he’s frank about that matter, but it still hasn’t stopped him from becoming one of heavy metal’s heavyweights.
All bands have a certain way they like to play the game – and for Hetfield, his writing process was no different. Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich, who also wrote alongside the rocker, did once come out in defence of his bandmate’s methods, saying that: “I think one of the key things that sets us apart from other bands is that James would always write the melody first, and then he would fill in the words according to, like, syllables per line.”
As much as this technique might have worked by Hetfield, it’s easy to see how this could be quite limiting for a more prolific wordsmith than himself. To be fair, Hetfield knew that all too well, and claimed there was one particular lyricist he never thought he could compare to.
Explaining his sheltered approach to the literary world, Hetfield admitted: “I’m not the kind of guy that’ll read novels or poetry. I’m not gonna sit down and write nice little poems that eventually end up as lyrics and songs.” A sonic Shakespeare, he may not be, but he definitely knew who was one. “I’m not like a Phil Lynott, who was one of my favourite all-time songwriters,” he enthused. “But he would sit down and write poetry – I’m just… I’m not gonna do that.”
Hetfield is right, of course, in revering Lynott as a lyrical maestro. The founding frontman of Thin Lizzy was, in all his tragically short life, lapped up as a songwriting prodigy, focusing his frame of words on regaling the characters and landscapes of working-class life, as well as the tales of the Irish Catholic origin from whence he came. Ever the expanding wordsmith, Lynott also channelled his creativity into two poetry collections, Songs for While I’m Away and Philip, released at the height of Thin Lizzy’s fame in 1974 and 1977 respectively.
The lore of his work clearly was an inspiration for so many bands and writers who have since traversed the rock scene, but as Hetfield demonstrates, not all of them replicate this mastery so skilfully. As much as Metallica were a bolt out of a rocket in terms of hits like ‘Seek and Destroy’ and ‘Master of Puppets’, it’s fair to say no one’s turning to the heavy metal legends for some overpowering profound insights; they just want to hear them scream.
Joke as we might about Hetfield’s lacking abilities in the lyric department, it’s not as if he’s going to care too much by this stage, is he? As a stalwart of one of the biggest rock bands in the world, he’s more than earned his place in legend, even if his path to get there was more rooted in the music than anything else. But just imagine what it would have been like if he and Lynott had ever had the opportunity to collaborate – chances are it would be well worth listening to.
