Back in 2002, on the heels of yet another of Megadeth’s lineup changes, a ritual which has taken place intermittently since the band’s inception in 1983, it seemed as though the thrash masters had finally played their last notes for good.  Bandleader and principal song architect Dave Mustaine had injured a nerve in his arm, a condition debilitating enough that he was told he would probably never pick up a guitar again.  Less debilitating, but equally effective in its own its own right, guitarist Marty Friedman and drummer Nick Menza, perhaps the best sidemen Megadeth ever had, were long gone.  Maybe it was the final sign in an increasing number that Megadeth was ready to call it quits.  All that changed, however, when, with physical therapy Mustaine unexpectedly was able re-teach himself to play and began work on a solo album that would eventually became the first comeback album of Megadeth’s second rebirth (the first necessitated by its drug-fueled recording of 1987’s So Far, So Good, So What…).

Though Mustaine had soon re-ignited his fire and resumed making music, gone now was his faithful sidekick of twenty plus years on bass, Dave “Junior” Ellefson.  After recording 2004’s The System Has Failed with Megadeth’s earliest co-lead guitarist, the jazz-minded Chris Poland, returning to lay down solos, Mustaine decided to continue on, putting together a permanent lineup and, for the first time in a long time, seemed to be enjoying himself more than ever.  No small feat for the man who has always had metal’s finest sneer permanently ready on standby.  Anything that fires up the creative juices of riffmaster Mustaine, however, is a good thing.  Releasing its critically-praised return to form, United Abominations, he was flanked by his first stable band in years.  In were the Drover brothers, Glen and Shawn (of Canadian metallers Eidolon), on guitar on drums, and former White Lion/Black Label Society bassist James Lomenzo.   

Make no mistake, Megadeth is and always has been Mustaine’s band.  This lineup’s first double-disc live album, That One Night: Live in Buenos Aires is a result of Mustaine’s newfound zest for Megadeth, or at least the rotting decay of civilization, the cornerstone of Mustaine’s lyrical outlook and the band’s vision.  The first CD kicks off with “Blackmail the Universe” from The System Has Failed, then goes into “Skin of my Teeth” from its mid-‘90s effort Countdown to Extinction, one of the band’s strongest commercial successes, before hearkening back to “Wake Up Dead” off its seminal disc, Peace Sells… But Who’s Buying?  From the get-go, it’s clear that every area of Megadeth is going to be represented here.  While the band has already recorded a strong double live album in 2002’s Rude Awakening, this is just as good, spanning across all eras with equal intensity.  “In My Darkest Hour,” Mustaine’s tribute to fallen Metallica bassist Cliff Burton gets its play, while the popular “A Tout Le Monde” and even the b-side “Angry Again” take a spin to finish off the first disc.

Disc two slams as well, with kicking into “Hangar 18” and its sequel “Return to Hangar” before dipping into the heavy ballad “I’ll Be There” from Risk.  It’s interesting to note that two tracks come from Risk, an album many Megadeth fans would like to forget, but Mustaine proudly trots them out.  There are other lighter moments here as well, but Mustaine never loses his audience, even during the slow chugger, “Trust,” from Cryptic Writings or the soft acoustics of “Coming Home to Argentina,” specially written for this crowd.  While the latter song is a very earnest declaration of devotion, it unfortunately still reminds listeners that despite a distinct sound, Mustaine was never really known for a beautifully rich balladeer’s voice.  Then again, Megadeth wasn’t really built on ballads.  The band is well in its stride by then, tearing into System’s “Something That I’m Not,” (supposedly a retort to Lars Ulrich following Mustaine’s Some Kind of Monster experience) and “Kick the Chair.”  They close their set with three of ‘Deth’s biggest classics, Countdown’s “Symphony of Destruction,” “Peace Sells…,” and from the album that marked its finest hour, Rust in Peace, the epic “Holy Wars,” before a nice soft, acoustic guitar sing-along caps off the disc.

Overall, the sound quality of That One Night is amazingly vibrant.  The drums, bass and ripping guitar solos all come through loud and clear, as do the nasally grit of Mustaine’s voice and guitar riffing, which is as good as it’s ever been.  The audio is clear enough to hear the audience singing in synchronicity with the solo break to Risk’s twin harmony-laden “She Wolf.”  It’s a great production which, along with Rude Awakening, serves as a strong representation of Megadeth’s live appeal.  The Drovers handle a complex catalogue of material considerably well, but although Glen Drover meshes very well with MegaDave, he doesn’t quite have cold the exotic mastery that former axewielder Marty Friedman brought, a fluid style which breathtakingly complimented Mustaine’s more visceral technique.  Drover is certainly a great guitarist, but a little more traditional in terms of his shredding.  Still, the unit works like a well-oiled machine and allows Megadeth to continue, and to that end, serves its purpose.  One has to figure Mustaine must have plenty of archived live material to be delivered to a waiting public. 

Ultimately, Megadeth, or rather Mustaine himself, is best when he’s pissed off.  The world climate, politically and socially, is still ripe for his brand of scathing sarcastic jabs.  And Megadeth has been the underdog for much of its existence, fighting to survive in the shadow of its far more (at least commercially) successful former bandmates in Metallica.  In a way, it’s amazing the band even lasted two decades with all its problems, substance and personal, but it has, and there is still a considerable audience for it.  If the album sales aren’t quite as high as they used to be, the respect is still there.  The reality of Dave Mustaine is that he’ll always be likely to partially define himself in terms of Metallica.  While it may be easy for fans to grouse that it’s time he got over his abrupt dismissal from their ranks in 1983, the flip side of the argument is that Mustaine’s mind has been permanently knocked by the experience.  A very unique position to be in for sure, but Mustaine is one of only a small crop of people who can lay claim to that unenviable honor, the honor of being sacked by a band, only to watch it ascend until finally, it’s become the biggest band in the world. 

At this stage of the game, however, perceptions and comparisons between the two bands are far different than they used to be.  Whereas Metallica softened its blunt edge considerably, debatably at the hand of producer Bob Rock, Megadeth, for the most part, continued to pummel.  St. Anger didn’t help matters, either with its murky, muddy detuned songs and an unbearable tin can drum clang.  In a genre where fans take their two-way allegiances to heart, Metallica did itself no favors within the metal community.  The band will always be remembered for its early broken ground in the 1980s, but to its serious devotees and heavy metal historians, it will be remembered just as much for its notable creative freefall in the ‘90s and beyond, a fall that’s lasted far longer than the length of its initial glory.  For all of Mustaine’s insecurities over Metallica’s success, one, at least now, would have to wonder what it is that seems so appealing about Metallica these days, given the insults heaped on his ex-bandmates by longtime, rabid fans?   Can he really believe that Metallica’s accrued wealth or the ongoing popularity that remains high is enough to satisfy in the wake of its perceived giant creative missteps?  Mustaine is smart enough to know what counts.

Looking at the two band’s divergent paths, it’s true that without the fire that burned in a scorned Mustaine and instilled his initial desire to rival Metallica, there might be no Megadeth at all.  It’s true that Metallica went on to find success on its own merits, but listening to the distinct, technical riffing on That One Night, so much of it reminiscent of the early Metallica discs, it’s clear that Mustaine’s claims about shaping Metallica’s sound are also at least partially true.  This is the point where, as both bands wind down their careers, people begin to take stock of the achievements and the impact made.  Very rarely does a metal band reach the entire base of popular music audiences without considerable alterations to its core sound.  In the end, all a band has is its recorded output, and Megadeth’s failure to achieve the stratospheric heights of Metallica may have come at the desire to maintain its core sound which, in the long run, was the right move.  It’s a move that will serve to greaten its historical impact when metal fans want to pick up an album or two.  Meanwhile, some would say his former band has done much to ruin what it has built up and alienate the very genre embedded within its name.  Dave Mustaine, your time may have finally come.