Review Summary: The Phrygians are marching towards my open chugging.
Dave Mustaine's remastering spree on his classic catalogue, back in 2004, serves as substantial proof on why he shouldn't be tinkering with the console or his Mac. It also saves me a couple of paragraphs in terms of this release. Truth be told,
Dystopia's main snag is the lack of a proper backbone, which naturally leads to a lack of flow, drive, and 'replayability'--a bunch of perks that cannot be solely attributed to production.
For a start, Mustaine respects his latest guitar hero too much, and for all the wrong reasons, to the point where the whole procedure seems like a contractual agreement. Dave does his stuff on one side while giving Kiko Loureiro an equal space to fiddle (before the verses) and shred (after the choruses) upon the third mode--the Phrygian soundscapes that probably remind Dave of Marty. The thing is, back in the day, Marty Friedman had been allowed to chip in something completely different than the power-Brasilian's six-string heroics. See, Friedman musically integrated his parts, he didn't just intervene them, and by that he managed to weave and morph Dave's riffs into something that western civilization refers to as songs, rather than LEGO contraptions on Logic PRO X. Then again, maybe that's what "Lying in State" suggests.
Speaking of software, Mustain's tracks include the perpetual chugging on the open E or the 'whichever low', while during the sparse moments that something a hair more interesting tries to crop up, we realise two things: First, it sounds suspiciously familiar; second, it has been equalised, compressed, and mastered in such a manner that it still sounds like chugging on the open E or the 'whichever low'. It's basically that, in unison with the double pedal mechanics--or should I say robotics?--of Chris Adler: a perfect way to mismanage another of your newly acquired assets. Anyway, it's a combo that may sound precise at first, yet turns stale as *** sooner rather than later.
In that context, I could almost picture MegaDave saying, "Kiko, dude, it's time for ur solos," as he clicked space behind the black apple, probably feeling a better person for respecting his session musician. "Bring out that oriental, middle-eastern twist, dude," he added. "Damn, them ***ers coming for us from all directions," he might have reflected, asserting his previous words, as he fixed the conservative gaze upon the lyric sheet by his keyboard. To illustrate even further,
Dystopia apes a creature, whose colors are just wrong, yet its pedigree or even the first couple of tracks might fool you into believing it has something that resembles a spine. Soon enough, you realise that it doesn't, as it proves saggy and ropey and unable to carry its own weight in a graceful manner when on the move; especially when the Brazilian atop slaps the reins hard.
I can't tell if that surrealism (let's call it, the ginger elephant), pacing on its belly under Kiko the Tamer and the torching Phrygian sun, is the peculiar incarnation of Mr. Mustain's fears. Does it plan on crossing the pond to "post-erize" the land of the free and all that is civil and republican? I don't know. Is that what track 6 warns us about? I don't care. To be honest, what I find bodily alarming, as regards our way of life and the way human hearing works, is that this albums' quantized structure, clustered pace, and flat dynamics fail to provide enough distraction. It might inevitably lead the listener, during his plea for audible reparation, to focus and reach for something that should never be focused upon when it comes to Megadeth. Something far more dystopian and post-apocalyptic and way too high in the mix--Dave's larynx.
