Megadeth Press Articles

So Far, So Good... So Mega! :: Marty Friedman's Stepping Stone :: Clash of the Titans - Mighty Megadeth :: I'm a Rock Star, OK? :: The Big Four :: Rust Never Sleeps :: Good Times, Bad Times, Dave Times :: Clash of the Titans :: The Secrets of Hangar 18 :: Simply Symphonic :: Deth Metal! :: Love it to 'Deth! :: A Kinder, Gentler... Megadeth :: RIP Reader's Poll Winner - Best Album: Countdown to Extinction :: I Was Dead and They Brought Me Back! :: Godzilla vs. Megadeth :: Tour of Consequences :: Mustaine Mouths Off :: MD.45 - The Mustaine Side Project :: There's a Lot of Fire on This Album! :: Dethspotting :: Megadeth: Secret Mission :: At the Start It Was About Revenge :: Escaping Capitol Punishment to Reach Sanctuary :: Megadeth's Really Over!


taken from Record Collector, August 1997
by Mike Wall

The story of Megadeth is, in essence, the story of one man: Dave Mustaine. It was Mustaine who came up with the name and formed the band after losing his job as the guitarist in Metallica for being "totally out of fuckin' control". It was Mustaine who wrote and sang the songs which would help redefine heavy metal in the 80s. "If there's a new way, I'll be the first in line!" he screamed prophetically on Peace Sells... But Who's Buying?. And it was Mustaine who brought the band back from the brink of drug-induced extinction in 1990, when they reinvented themselves as "straight-edge" metallists for a new era.

"I was the best at being loaded, but I wanted to be the best musician too," he told me at the time, after he and his longtime friend, drug-compadre and bassist, David Ellefson, had checked into rehab in Los Angeles. "This music is intense, it requires a lot of work," he declared. "And I'm sick and tired of people saying, 'Dave's dead'. I still hear that from people and think, shit, I'm still standing, you know? I must have done a good job."

Seven years later, he's still doing it - clean, though you could never describe him as "wholesome", he's still making some of the fiercest heavy metal this side of the grunge-thrash divide. Back in May, RC caught up with Mustaine and Ellefson in London, where they were promoting the latest (and seventh) Megadeth album, Cryptic Writings, their first since 1994's million-selling, Youthanasia. They did, however, agree to glance over their much-traveled shoulders for our benefit, and talk us through the ir extraordinary story.


Back in 1983, Mustaine was pondering his next move. He'd just been thrown out of Metallica after a last-straw argument with singer James Hetfield, which had left Mustaine with a bloodied nose and much wounded pride. He never had any doubts that he could make it on his own, though. "Fuck democracy," he once hissed. "Democracy doesn't work in a band. I had to have my own band and make music exactly the way I wanted to hear it, with no compromises to anybody else's ego whatsoever."

He already had the name - Megadeth. It perfectly reflected the new songs he was writing: despairing, post-apocalyptic, wise beyond their years.

His first and, as history would prove, most important recruit was bassist David Ellefson. "I had heard a little of his reputation," says Ellefson now, "but I was no saint, either. We were both so young. I went along to his apartment and his was there sitt ing on the couch playing these amazingly solid rhythm parts. I mean, they were like slabs of rock. Dave was obviously not your average long-haired virtuoso guitar player, which you always get around town."

Two songs Mustaine sketched out for him that night - "Devil's Island" and "Set the World Afire" - would become mainstays of the earliest Megadeth shows, though the latter would not be recorded until the third album. "They were monsters," says Ellefson. "They just jumped out at you. I thought, whoah, this guy's got a whole different thing going on. This had nothing to do with the other 'hair' bands of the time."

Indeed, the street metal that Mustaine had created with Metallica, and which Megadeth took to its twisted conclusion, helped to redefine rock in the 80s. Manic, socially aware, aggressively underground, it was a universe away from the studied indulgence o f its 70s counterpart. Along with Metallica, Anthrax and Slayer, Megadeth were the crusading purveyors of the sort of short-necked, punchy riffs that the critics would dub "thrash metal".

With the first 'deth line-up completed by the arrival of drummer Gar Samuelson and guitarist Chris Poland, the group embarked on a smattering of Hollywood club gigs. These brought them to the attention of the metal-minded LA indie, Combat Records, who a greed to subsidize the recording of what, in 1985, became the first Megadeth album, Killing Is My Business... And Business Is Good!


Released in the UK on Music for Nations, in May 1985, Killing... was an instant cult success. Produced by Mustaine and engineered by Karat Faye, songs like the vicious "Rattlehead", the ironic and brutal title track, and the marble-eyed "Mechanix" (Mustaine's original version of what had become "The Four Horsemen" on Metallica's debut, Kill'em All, two years earlier) established Megadeth as a serious threat to the mental health of teenagers everywhere. It was that good.

It wasn't all doom and gloom, either. Their exquisitely unforgiving version of Nancy Sinatra's classic 60s hit, "These Boots Are Made for Walking" revealed the band had a sense of humor, too.

Reviews in the specialist metal press were unanimous in their praise. Here was a band to challenge the all-out frontal-lobe attack of Metallica, and maybe even steal their newly-won thrash crown. Now that Mustaine had taken on the added role of singer, he exuded his own special kind of poisonous charisma. "Those were my devil days," he once told me, only half-joking. "I was the kind of guy that would shoot dope, smoke a pound of weed, down a bottle of tequila and then get in the car and go for a drive."

All of Megadeth were "party guys". "We just thought that's what bands did," says Ellefson. "And weirdly, for a while we were actually able to function like that. Which shows you how deep into this shit we were. To us, being wasted was normal."

Curiously, the second Megadeth album, Peace Sells... But Who's Buying?, didn't sound at all like a band teetering on the brink of chemical collapse. Their major label debut (they'd been snapped up for worldwide distribution by Capitol), it was an album of astonishing power. Today, the songs still take your breath away - the anthemic and painfully autobiographical "Wake Up Dead", the title-track (especially the title track, a quintessential Megadeth moment), the irredeemably nasty "Black Friday", their juddering version of the grisly old Willie Dixon blues-cruncher, "I Ain't Superstitious".

Again produced by Mustaine, in conjunction with studio hand Randy Burns, Peace Sells... was released here in late 1986. A stunningly visceral video for the anthemic title track was shot in LA, featuring nasty headsdown live performance inter-cut with seductively graphic images of US military hardware in action. When the band arrived in Britain for their first major tour in December, they did so as headliners, packing them in wherever they set up their graffitied Marshalls.

In keeping with the times, the tour was not without incident. In Belfast, Mustaine made the fatal error of speaking out about "the troubles in Northern Ireland", a rant that won him a few friends. Ultimately, it meant the band would not play there again for another decade, such was the antipathy stirred up by Mustaine's vague comments about "how the fuck one religion can say anything against another religion". "Ireland was a bad experience all around for us," Mustaine admitted years later. "The pissing part for me is that I'm quarter Irish."

When the show hit London's Hammersmith Odeon, just before Christmas, Megadeth were over an hour late appearing on stage, claiming an equipment breakdown had caused the delay. However, insiders later alleged that the band had been waiting for a consignment of dope to turn up. Whether it was true or not, the fact that most people consider it a far more plausible explanation summed up the then-prevailing state of affairs in the 'Deth camp.

"When Dave and I first got hooked up, the extent of our getting high was just beer and pot," Mustaine told me. "But I was kind of fascinated with the thing of being a junkie. I felt like I had something on everybody else. I was a bad boy. I didn't realize I was tainting my image. Now I can say I've been there, done that. I was spending $500 a day for five years on that stuff."

With So far, So Good... So What?, the third and last Megadeth album in the 80s, the cracks in the creative make-up began to appear. Out went Samuelson and Poland ("I just got sick of looking at 'em," Mustaine sneered), and in came Chuck Behler and Jeff Young - though it was hard to spot the difference.

Commercially, the band were breaking new ground. The first single from the album, an embarrassingly Americanized version of the Sex Pistols' punk classic, "Anarchy in the UK", reached No.45 in February 1988, their highest U.K. chart position to date. So Far, So Good... So What? was released the same month and swept into the top 20.

However, the album saw Megadeth treading dirty water, with the honorable exception of "In My Darkest Hour", written by a grieving Mustaine about Metallica bassist Cliff Burton's tragic death. "Set the World Afire" and "Mary Jane" were merely worthy left-overs from earlier days, "Anarchy" was a cover, and the remaining four tracks were pure Megadeth sound-alike filler.

Needless to say, Mustaine doesn't agree. "I wrote some great songs loaded," he says with a crooked smile. "I wrote better songs once I got straight, but I stand by every album we've ever made. They all mean something different to me. We improve but we never change."


Following the release of "Mary Jane", which staggered into the Top 40 for just one week, the rapidly accelerating Megadeth juggernaut returned to England to play the ill-fated 1988 Monsters of Rock Festival at Castle Donington. 100,000 fans turned up to see headliners Iron Maiden top a bill of five-star metal gurus, including Kiss, David Lee Roth, Guns N' Roses and, of course, Megadeth.

The scene was set for a truly memorable spectacle, but the day was overshadowed by the deaths of two fans, who were crushed in the crowd during Guns N' Roses' performance. With most punters unaware of the tragedy, it was to rousing cheers that Mustaine end ed the set by inviting Lars Ulrich up on stage for the encores. The war between Megadeth and Metallica was, it seemed, finally over.

Dave Mustaine and David Ellefson's battles with their drug habits were, however, only just beginning. It would be another two years before the next Megadeth album, during which the group "toured and got fucked up - but not always in that order", as Mustaine later put it.

When, in the summer of 1989, they were asked to contribute to the soundtrack for the latest incarnation of Wes Craven's mega successful Nightmare on Elm street movie series, the best Mustaine could do was hammer out another less-than-convincing cover version, this time of Alice Cooper's 1973 hit, "No More Mr. Nice Guy". Released as a single in January 1990, it became Megadeth's biggest hit yet, leaping to No.13.

Fortunately, for those who had to deal with the singer personally, and for the fans who knew that Megadeth were capable of so much more than turgid covers or the thrash-by-numbers that characterized so much of So Far, So Good... So What?, the new decade brought with it a new, astonishingly cleaned-up Dave Mustaine. Megadeth even had a new, equally fresh line-up to go with it.

When I met Dave in Los Angeles in the summer of 1990, he proudly confided: "I quit all drugs, alcohol and tobacco seven months ago. Yup, I finally saw the light, praise the Lord!" He wasn't being the least bit ironic, either.

In fact, he'd never been more serious. "We'd been so fucked by everything that the only way to deal with our feelings was to cloud our thinking," he explained. "It went a bit far with the heroin, but it wasn't just heroin, it was alcohol, too. As a kid, everyone always said I was going to end up an alcoholic like my father. You see, alcoholism is hereditary, it's in the genes. I just could not drink."

"At first, I had doubts about getting cleaned up but now I just enjoy being coherent," he continued. "I get just as high when I jump out of an airplane with a parachute. I'm getting pleasure from the things that are in my life right now rather than thing s that are in my system."

It's the recovering addict's code to take things one day at the time, but Dave was quietly confident about his chances of staying off 'stuff': "It's over. For today. It might start again tonight. I may leave here and go down the street and pick something up. I'll always be a junkie, but right now I'm not a practicing junkie. And I plan to stay that way."


It is pleasing to report that, seven years on, his stance remains unchanged: "I don't do that shit any more, no. But I don't like talking about it any more, either," he says. But just because he now leads the straight life doesn't mean he's lost an ounce of his notorious 'attitude'. "You don't wanna piss me off," he glares.

By agreeing to clean up his act, David Ellefson kept his place in the band, while the still errant Behler and Young were replaced by drummer Nick Menza and guitarist Marty Friedman.

"Dave owned up to the problem first," Ellefson remembers. "Seeing Dave bailing it out threatened my whole existence, my job, my life, everything. I had a lot of fear to begin with. But we went through it all together and, in the end, I think it made us stronger, musically and as people. Without wanting to sound whacko, it was like divine intervention, 'cause straightaway we started making our best music ever."

Which was true, up to a point. Rust in Peace, the first Megadeth album under the new "healthy" regime, was their best since Peace Sells..., no question. However, with the exception of "Hangar 18" and the free-roamin' title track, written when Mustaine was still in Metallica, the material dated from before the clean-up. Produced by Guns N' Roses studio-helmsman Mike Clink, with some assistance from a still fragile Mustaine, the LP won Megadeth their first U.K. top 10 album. It also established a toe-hold for the band in the U.S. top 30, where it reached No.28.

A taster for the album, "Holy Wars... The Punishment Due", was released in September 1990, in several 'Dethspotterish formats. It became the group's first original composition to make the Top 30.

Megadeth arrived in Britain as the headliners of an ambitious live metal extravaganza. Billed as "Clash of the Titans", the show also featured Slayer, Testament and Suicidal Tendencies - an awesome line-up of raw-riffing 90s talent. Megadeth were now able to stand tall again; suddenly they were far harder, sleeker and sharper that even their most ardent followers could have dreamed possible in the darkest-hour days of the late 80s.

Returning to America, they continued their "Titans" trek with Judas Priest replacing Slayer and the revolving door of local talent kicking off the entertainment.


"We were out of the clubs and into the arenas. It was kinda unreal," muses Ellefson. "But what with getting our personal lives together, everything just seemed to follow on from that. The band was the best we ever had. Nick and Marty can really play, and it toughened me and Dave up, too. Suddenly, we were scary on stage."

They were, too. I caught the band's appearance at the "Rock in Rio II" Festival January 1991, where they were almost unrecognizable from the stoned and angry puppets I remembered from my last encounter three years before. Suddenly, Mustaine had real presence and a total command of the stage. The band were a furious storm of noise swirling around him, and with his golden hair down to his elbows he looked like a lion pawing its meat, growling with satisfaction at the cleanness of the kill.

"Touring's a seven-headed dragon, it all depends on what day it is," says Mustaine. "On the great nights, the energy contact between the band and the audience is incredible. That's what's responsible for me looking as young as I do!"

May saw the arrival of the first official Megadeth video, Rusted Pieces, a six-track compilation of all their existing promos. It went straight to No.1 and stayed there for four weeks. That spring, Dave Mustaine got married in Hawaii, and the group settled into a balanced routine. From now on, live dates were spaced sensibly to give the band time to recuperate, while days off were filled with sports activities, sightseeing and shopping. Megadeth spent the rest of 1991 touring the world, making the most of their dependent-free success to visit countries that they'd previously shield away from, including South America, Japan and Australia.

Then, in 1992, came the album that remains the most complete and genuinely exciting body of work Megadeth have ever released - Countdown to Extinction. Mustaine was back in the producer's chair, this time in partnership with veteran Ozzy Osbourne producer, Max Norman. The first of Mustaine's new post-drug era songs were quite simply his most consistently imaginative, and rock solid to boot.


Playing the album five years on, it's still impossible to identify any duds. Every single one of the eleven tracks bristles with spiteful energy. "Symphony of Destruction", the paranoiac (and funny) "Sweating Bullets", the killer-driller "Skin O'My teeth ", "High Speed Dirt" and the willfully weird "Psychotron" - all displayed a new and adventurous Megadeth unafraid to toy with their own myth. Angry, mocking, clever, cool: suddenly it was fun to be a Megadeth fan again.

Sales of the LP reflected its strength. The first single, "Symphony of Destruction", was reached No.15 in June. The album, issued a month later, leapt to No.5 in the U.K. and No.2 in the States. It was proof positive that, not only had Megadeth survived the creative ordeal of Life After Dope, but they had escaped the commercial bear-trap that grunge had created for old school metal bands.

Soul-searching, angst-ridden, introverted, the thrift-store ethos of grunge had effectively blown away the careers of scarved-round-the-mike 80s stalwarts like Motley Crue, Poison, Extreme, Cinderella, Warrant and the rest of their hair-teased ilk. But for Megadeth - and significantly, their alter-egos, Metallica - it merely highlighted their role as musical and cultural forefathers of the new "movement".

The comparisons were obvious: Megadeth had been "dressing down" since day one, their songs rarely rising above the emotional gutter Mustaine had once fallen into all too willingly. Socially aware but laced with all the requisite punk spite, the songs on Countdown... effortlessly matched the best moments from Pearl Jam or Soundgarden.

Megadeth arrived in Britain in October 1992, for the start of another lengthy world tour, they were brimming with confidence, and determined to deliver. Capitol lifted another single from the album, the rabble-rousing "Skin O'My teeth". If you bought every format, you got to play a special Mustaine-Ellefson-designed Mega-board game. Gee!


Keen to keep the whole enterprise bubbling along, Capitol also issued a second Megadeth video compilation, Exposure of a Dream, in November. Containing all the videos for the Countdown... singles, from plus two other album tracks, "Foreclosure of a Dream" and "High Speed Dirt", and a brand new number "Go to Hell", it went straight to No.1.

"I guess we felt vindicated", says David Ellefson now. "We had made a major decision in our lives and now we were seeing the fruits of it. It's corny, I know, but life when it's good it usually is."

The first six months of 1993 found Megadeth glued to the road in America, raking in the glory. Nevertheless, it was somehow fitting that their biggest and best tour yet should climax with a huge open-air show with Metallica, at the Milton Keynes Bowl. Held in June before a sold-out crowd of over 60,000, Metallica headlined and Megadeth were billed as special guests. They were that all right - here were two of the greatest metal bands of the last two decades, ripping it up together on the same stage for the first time ever. "It was OK," Mustaine deadpans. "At least I can remember it, which is more than I can say for the last time I played on the same stage as Metallica."

The rest of the year was spent "being a person with a life," says Mustaine. He became a father for the first time (a boy, named Justis) and when he wasn't walking around in dark glasses "with my hair tied back and trying hard not to be recognized", he was busy working on the material that would comprise the next Megadeth album, Youthanasia.

Produced once again by Mustaine in conjunction with Max Norman, and released in October 1994, Youthanasia was, in Ellefson's words, "our most rounded album, at that time." For "rounded", read "boring". The album was recorded in Phoenix, where Mustaine and Ellefson had both set up permanent residence, at a studio specially built for the purpose. (It was promptly dismantled straight after.) The record was unique, but for this long time Megadeth observer, Youthanasia was Megadeth's least impressive outing since the ill-conceived So Far, So Good... So What?

The metal press predictably criticized the album for its lack of aggression. Second-rate fare like "Reckoning Day", "Addicted to Chaos" and "Family Tree" left the fans unconcieved, too, and sales dipped. Though it was hardly a disaster - the album made No .6 in the U.K. and No.4 in America - it was still a disappointment after the high-rolling success of Countdown.

Megadeth hadn't completely lost their bite, though: the controversial album-sleeve artwork, depicting an elderly woman hanging babies on a washing line, caused a furore in such far-flung outposts as Singapore and Malaysia, as well as some of the ultra-conservative Southern States of America.

The video for the first single, "Train of Consequences", issued in December, brought the album artwork to life with expert computer graphics, but was consequently censored in the UK after objections from senior officials at MTV Europe. Presumably concern ed that anybody who saw the video might actually run amok and start hanging up real babies for real, The Powers That Be ordered a special re-edit for pre-watershed viewing.

Ironically, MTV America had no qualms whatsoever about the uncensored version. When I caught up with Mustaine in Atlanta, Georgia, where the band were finishing off the last leg of their U.S. tour, he attributed the Euro-nervousness to "something peculiar about the English and their warped attitude to children and animals".


"It's strange", he mused. "You can switch your TV on any time of the day or night and see murders and people going off at each other. But try and show a strange and surreal image that actually has what we think is a very positive life-affirming message and you offend everybody! All I can say is, I'm damn glad we didn't decide to hang some puppies up there, too! They'd have probably had lynching parties ready to greet us at the airport."

There was then a hiatus in Megadeth's recording career, though a repackaged, double-CD version of the album, entitled, Youthanasia with Hidden Treasures, appeared in March 1995. It featured the Youthanasia material, plus a separate CD containing track s from various movies, plus the group's version of "Paranoid" from 1994's Nativity in Black: A Tribute to Black Sabbath album. Other tracks included "No More Mr. Nice Guy" (Shocker, 1989), "Go to Hell" (Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey, 1990), "Angry Again" (Last Action Hero, 1993) and "99 Ways to Die" (The Beavis and Butthead Experience, 1994).

And there was a further video collection, Evolver, containing footage of the band writing, rehearsing and recording the Youthanasia material in Arizona, which included an unabridged version of "Train".

Little was heard of the 'Deth until they resurfaced in London this April, bearing cassettes of their new album, Cryptic Writings. There had been a one-off Mustaine "solo" project: an album called The Craving, released last year under the enigmatic nom-de-plume, MD.45. It sounded like a collection of inferior Megadeth tracks recorded by Mega-Imposters.

Why bother? Had Megadeth broken up for a time? Mustaine shakes his head: "No, Megadeth never broke up. But we got to the end of the last tour and I had these songs I believed in enough to want to record , but it was way too soon for another Megadeth album. The guys all needed some time off. So I just went into the studio on my own and brought in different people to help out. I had to get those songs out of the way so that I could do this new stuff."

What had Ellefson made of the MD.45 package? "I dug a lot of their stuff," he says predictably, with Mustaine sitting next to him. "Some of it was really cool, some of it was kinda short."

While Mustaine tinkered with MD.45, Ellefson himself kept busy by writing a book called "Making Music Your Business," "A user's guide to making it through one of the shittiest businesses there is", as he laughingly puts it. "I began writing it and making notes while we were still on the "Youhanasia" tour. It's a 'how-to' from the musician's point of view."

When Megadeth reconvened in Phoenix late last year, Mustaine says he knew then that the group was his chief priority. "I wouldn't have been able to the MD.45 thing without Megadeth," he declares. "And I love the fans, I love the people in it. Whether we get along or not, we still have a fiercy, magical, beautiful gift and I don't wanna waste it."

Produced by former Giant guitarist Dan Huff, and recorded once again in Nashville, Cryptic Writings is a far better, more imaginative album than its under-achieving predecessor. The sinisterly compelling "Trust" (the first single in America), the full-on, muthahumpin' "FFF", the pale and reflective "Almost Honest" and "Use the Man" are equal to the nuggets in the band's impressive back catalogue.

But it is still falls short of eclipsing the pinnacle they achieved with Countdown to Extinction five years ago. "I'll Get Even" might be Mustaine at his most vengeful now, but you need to go back to "Wake Up Dead" to hear what Mustaine sound like when he's really getting pissed off. Same with "Have Cool, Will Travel" - a terrible title for a song not fit to fly in the same vapor trails as, say, "High Speed Dirt". Of course, they can't all be classics but surely after a gap of nearly three years 'Dethheads have a right to expect something better?

This is not the kind of talk either Dave tolerates easily. Ellefson speaks elliptically of "broadening horizons", while Mustaine points out, "This is our seventh record, times change, people change."

But do fans change? "Yeah, they do. Some will still want "Vortex" and "FFF" first. But we don't have just one type of fan, we've got a lot of fans we've picked up along the way. If you played our first album next to this, it would sound like two different bands to some of them. It would be pretty fucked if we'd all stayed the same all this time."

"We open ourselves up to criticism and some people won't like it and some will, but we've got to try something new," says Ellefson. "You can's always just play it safe, not in Megadeth."

Would you agree, though, that Megadeth hit a peak with Countdown...? "Sure, but we do that with every album we release," counters Mustaine, utterly implacable to the last.

What had been their lowest point? "It's funny, people always assume it was the really bad period just before we quit abusing ourselves," says Ellefson. "But for me, the really down times have been musical ones. What I had to realize was it was always Dave 's band. It was his concept, it was his music, and I was just the bass player in Dave's band. My real problem is when I think I'm more than that. I'm happiest when I'm just the bass player. That's when the doors start to open and I start to get involved in contributing to the writing."

Was that the secret of how the two of them had managed to stay together all this time? "That and friendship. We've always been friends."

Had he ever considered quitting when things got bad? "No," smiles Ellefson. "I would never have quit. I have never walked off stage or walked out of a band meeting and said that's it, like a lot of people have done. My character isn't like that. I'm not into idle threats. If I quit, I quit for good. And I can't see that happening now."

The current Megadeth world tour kicked off in the band's home of Phoenix in June. "It's an outdoor show, kind of warm up in front of all our friends," Mustaine explains. From there, the tour begins in earnest with a string of shows in the UK and a six-w eek tour of Europe to follow.

"It's the summer so we'll be doing some of the festivals and maybe one or two shows on our own," he says. "Then we go back to the States and tour." "But we'll probably be back in the UK for shows before Christmas," adds Ellefson. "If we live that long," Mustaine sneers, even though we all know that these days he's only kidding.

"I used to live my life like I'm gonna die tomorrow. Now I live my life like I'm gonna live forever and my friends are gonna die tomorrow. It makes for a better story."

So Far, So Good... So Mega! :: Marty Friedman's Stepping Stone :: Clash of the Titans - Mighty Megadeth :: I'm a Rock Star, OK? :: The Big Four :: Rust Never Sleeps :: Good Times, Bad Times, Dave Times :: Clash of the Titans :: The Secrets of Hangar 18 :: Simply Symphonic :: Deth Metal! :: Love it to 'Deth! :: A Kinder, Gentler... Megadeth :: RIP Reader's Poll Winner - Best Album: Countdown to Extinction :: I Was Dead and They Brought Me Back! :: Godzilla vs. Megadeth :: Tour of Consequences :: Mustaine Mouths Off :: MD.45 - The Mustaine Side Project :: There's a Lot of Fire on This Album! :: Dethspotting :: Megadeth: Secret Mission :: At the Start It Was About Revenge :: Escaping Capitol Punishment to Reach Sanctuary :: Megadeth's Really Over!

The Realms of Deth
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