Review by Lil Miss Terror
There’s something strange about a “final” Megadeth record landing without fireworks. After forty years of snarling riffs and Mustaine rage, this is how they choose to bow out and honestly, they’re not holding back.
No grand thesis statement. No forced legacy victory lap. Instead, this album feels like Dave Mustaine doing what he’s always done best when he stops overthinking it. Writing riffs, stacking solos and letting the songs carry whatever weight they’re capable of carrying. It’s uneven in places, sharp in others and very human in its limitations, warts and all. That honesty is part of why it works.
I was umming and ahhing about whether I wanted to hear it straight away. Not sure why, because ‘Tipping Point’ opens hard and restless, hitting like a freight train straight to the chest. The riffs are fast and nervy, the solos snap and spiral and there’s a sense of urgency that feels intentional rather than nostalgic.
Mustaine is still snarling like he’s pissed off at sixteen. Teemu Mäntysaari is tearing it up like a man possessed. James LoMenzo’s bass rumbles like an old tank rolling over fresh dirt, while Dirk Verbeuren’s drums hit like concrete boots dropped off a cliff. This is Megadeth reminding you, early, that they still know how to come out swinging. It sets the bar stupidly high, maybe too high for what follows, but as an opener it does exactly what it needs to and then pisses off.
‘I Don’t Care’ doubles down on attitude. There’s a punkish stubbornness to it, less intricate than classic Megadeth but driven by momentum. The vocals will divide opinion, but the guitar work doesn’t and Mustaine will tell you “I don’t care. You can kiss my ass!”. The solos rip and feel alive, like someone enjoying themselves rather than ticking boxes.
‘Hey, God?!’ slows the pace and leans into confrontation rather than speed. Lyrically it’s blunt, almost awkward in places and that’s where it loses me a bit. Musically it holds together, but it feels more like a statement than a song I’ll keep coming back to.
‘Let There Be Shred’ does exactly what it promises. Pure guitar worship. Joyful, aggressive, Mustaine planting his flag without apology. It’s one of the most fun tracks on the album because it doesn’t pretend to be anything else. No subtext, no farewell framing, just velocity and fingers on the fretboard spitting fire. It barrels in and makes you want to air-guitar through the lounge and out into the backyard. Truth!
‘Puppet Parade’ shifts into a more melodic lane. The opening lead feels almost indulgent before snapping into a tighter groove that bites like a snake. It’s less thrash, more hard rock and works because it’s confident. Mäntysaari throws out tasty steel notes and the track grows on you rather than demanding attention straight away. I’m prickling with Countdown to Extinction vibes, more so in the verses than the chorus.
‘Another Bad Day’ is where the album dips. It’s not bad, it’s just there. Solid playing, competent structure, but nothing that sticks once it ends. In a shorter track list this might have been cut and you feel that.
‘Made to Kill’ pulls things back on track. Drumming. The rhythm section locks in, the riff hits with weight and Mustaine’s vocal delivery sits more comfortably in the mix. This is one of the moments where age works in the song’s favour rather than against it.
‘Obey the Call’ builds patiently, almost solemn at first, before pushing forward. There’s ambition here, and while it doesn’t fully explode, it drags you back into that menacing mid-tempo zone and earns its place by trying to be more than just another riff delivery system. One for the next road trip playlist for sure.
‘I Am War’ leans hard into persona and mythology. It’s not one of the album’s strongest tracks, but it fits thematically. Think of it as connective tissue rather than a centrepiece, though it still feels like absolute pit destruction waiting to happen if played live.
‘The Last Note’ is where the album finally acknowledges what it is. Spoken intro. Stripped back, reflective and emotionally direct. This track feels like Mustaine allowing vulnerability without dressing it up. It doesn’t beg for closure it offers it willingly. That restraint makes it land harder.
And yeah, then there’s the Metallica “cover”. It’s impossible not to hear it through decades of familiarity. Respect where it’s due, the execution is tight and the intent is clear, but if you grew up with the Metallica version, especially hearing it live, it’s hard to unhear the extra heaviness and James Hetfield’s deeper, bulkier vocal presence. Mustaine brings a different character to it, but the comparison is unavoidable and sometimes works against the track rather than for it. It feels more symbolic than essential. I get it, and I honour that.
Look, as a full ride, this final Megadeth album isn’t a flawless goodbye, but it doesn’t need to be. The riffs are there. The solos still bite. The flaws are audible, but so is the commitment. Megadeth aren’t pretending time hasn’t passed, and that honesty gives the record a grit that polish would have ruined. It ends the way the band has always lived: sharp-edged, stubborn and unconcerned with pleasing everyone on the way out. It’s the sound of a band still backing itself, flaws and all, and cranking the amp anyway.
Spin Megadeth loud, crack a beer and let these legends stomp out the door the way they came in: loud, proud and riding riffs that refuse to quit.
