Dave Mustaine is coughing up blood.
I wasn’t sure what to expect going into my conversation with Megadeth’s larger-than-life leader, but I wasn’t expecting to see something so human. You probably know the story by now. Mustaine has, over four decades, ascended into the god-tier ranks of metal’s elite. He helped create the blueprint for technical thrash-metal riffing, catapulted his band to worldwide-phenomenon status and built an invincible touring machine.
It’s a mythological tale in some ways — getting cast down from the heavens of Metallica in 1983, hitting bottom, and in that very same year reforging that ruin into a fiery new force to be reckoned with: Megadeth. Yet watching Mustaine, now 64, coughing blood into a tissue over Zoom and then smiling and apologizing, “Sorry bud, bronchitis,” revealed a different kind of power — one rooted in sheer human grit.
I don’t have many memories as a little kid, but I remember being at my cousin’s house, sitting on the carpet watching Megadeth’s “Holy Wars…The Punishment Due” video on MTV. Seeing a shirtless Mustaine shredding on a Flying V probably predisposed me to heavy-metal maximalism — to flowing, headbanging manes and pure, unadulterated riffs.
When I rediscovered the band as a teenager with a semi-formed brain, what grabbed me as much as the music was the epic drama and legend of it all, much of it unabashedly perpetuated by Mustaine through decades of interviews where he pulled no punches about Megadeth’s place in the pantheon of metal.
And it’s not just hyperbole. Megadeth are one of thrash metal’s Big 4 for a reason. Across 16 albums, they’ve racked up multiple platinum-selling smashes — including So Far, So Good… So What!, Rust in Peace and Countdown to Extinction — along with a decades-spanning run of Grammy nominations that culminated in their 2017 win for Best Metal Performance with “Dystopia.”
They’ve topped Billboard charts, headlined arenas and festivals around the globe, cultivated a generations-spanning fanbase and inspired countless young heshers to pick up a guitar. Not to mention, they created one of metal’s most recognizable visual legacies in Vic Rattlehead, the skeletal mascot who’s evolved alongside the band’s sound.
Through it all, Mustaine has followed his own idiosyncratic path — one that led him from Southern California to a quieter life in Nashville with his family, where he keeps horses and continues to expand a growing wine business. But music has always been the force pulling him forward. It’s what carried him from catastrophe to global stardom, and now into what he’s calling the final chapter of Megadeth.
In August 2025, they announced that their forthcoming 17th studio album, simply titled Megadeth, would be their last — accompanied by a final world tour. All of it has led to this moment: a definitive closing chapter for a band that reshaped metal. When I ask Mustaine if he knew while making the record that it would be their swan song, he says he didn’t. Then he lifts his hand toward the camera. There’s a visible ridge running from the center of his left palm up into his middle finger.
“I’ve been having issues with my hand,” he says. “I don’t know if you can see that, but right there in the middle of my hand, I have this thing called Dupuytren’s contracture. And what’s gonna happen is that’s gonna make my finger so that it goes like this” — he bends his finger in inward — “because that line there is gonna get tighter and tighter. And then I’m not gonna be able to play anymore.”
He pauses. “I would rather be able to do my best record, release that and go out on top, than go back into the studio and try and do something and not be able to do it.”
To Mustaine’s credit, Megadeth is a genuinely great fucking record to go out on. It’s the first album to feature new guitarist Teemu Mäntysaari, who stepped in after Kiko Loureiro’s departure (at Loureiro’s own suggestion).
The whole thing is loaded with riffs, solos and all the thrashy flourishes you’d expect from a Megadeth release. Opener “Tipping Point” is as crushing a track as they’ve ever laid down, grinding out a fast-as-hell riff while drummer Dirk Verbeuren and bassist James LoMenzo prove why they’re one of the tightest rhythm sections in the business.
The album works as both summation and reminder of why so many people fell in love with Megadeth in the first place — from Mustaine’s snarling taunts on “I Don’t Care” to the reflective sweep of “The Last Note,” all of it packed with apex-level riffs. The record closes with a version of Metallica’s “Ride the Lightning,” a song Mustaine co-wrote during his early tenure with the band. Its inclusion works on two levels: a nod to the history he helped build, and a tribute to the guys he first made music with.
As our conversation winds down, Mustaine coughs again into his tissue, a small reminder of the very real vulnerability that opened our talk. But he straightens up immediately, unfazed, and continues. Bronchitis isn’t going to keep him down. He is a fighter — the same guy with black belts in taekwondo and karate, the same guy who built a thrash empire out of one of the lowest moments of his life and the same guy who beat throat cancer in 2020.
However long Megadeth keep going, we’re lucky to be here for it. What’s made Mustaine an outsized figure and constant headline machine isn’t just his unique creative vision or prodigious musical chops — it’s the way he’s carried all of himself into the world, unfiltered, whether people agree with him or not.
The cough and the contracture aren’t cracks in the mythology. They’re what make the mythology real. The gods of metal, it turns out, bleed too. They just keep playing through it until they can’t.

Ross Halfin
Do you remember the first time you said out loud to somebody, “This is going to be the last record”?
Dave Mustaine Yeah. Yeah, I do. It was to my manager.
What was that conversation like?
It was pretty straightforward, because they know my medical issues I’ve had with neck fusion, throat cancer, left-arm Saturday night palsy, left-hand Dupuytren’s contracture, and spinal and hands arthritis.
There’s a lot of little things that make it hard to tour. And whenever shit goes wrong on the road, they’re the ones that hear about it. We don’t have stuff that goes wrong on our tours very much, but, you know, sometimes they do.
The new record sounds incredibly aggressive, like you’re playing with the energy of a teenager. I mean this in the most positive way, it sounds like 19-year-olds trying to prove something.
I said that more than once to Teemu [Mäntysaari], that we need to make sure we do a lot of solos on this record.
How did the band react when you told them this would be the final album?
I think the conversation was well received, because James [LoMenzo] is… He’s older than I am. And he has a really enjoyable life at home, and the stuff that he does with video editing. Being in Megadeth is a joy for him, [but] he has something to fall back on.
Dirk [Verbeuren] is a very desirable drummer, and I know he’s gonna be absolutely fine. Same with Teemu. Teemu has made a name for himself with this record. And unless my hand gets healed some crazy way, then, you know, it is what it is.
But yeah, it’s been really a great period since we made the announcement, because I told them: “Just because we’re saying that we’re not gonna make another studio album, it doesn’t mean we’re not gonna ever play again.” We’re gonna play again. And we’re not just an American band. We’re an international band. So, we’re gonna be playing for probably three or four years before we finish a tour of the world. So that is also very encouraging. We do have a lot of fans around the world, and there’s some places that we can’t get into right now.
It’s kind of crazy when geo-politics prevent you from playing.
Especially when you go places and you don’t know what you’re talking about. I remember we were going into Dubai, and we were supposed to play with Saxon, and I was excited to see the guys in Saxon. I really liked the singer, Biff Byford. And the press conference starts, and he’s not at the table. And I’m thinking to myself, That’s a bad sign. So, I asked what happened, and they said, “Well, Saxon had a song called ‘The Crusaders.’” And I guess the Crusaders and the Ottoman Empire had some terrible history, and they just didn’t want Saxon there. So, you never know.
The lyrics on this record feel very personal, especially on “The Last Note,” where you’re literally talking about touring and leaving the band behind. How did you approach writing this time around?
It was a very difficult process. Took some time. The only songs that came quick were “Hey, God?!” and “I Don’t Care.” Everything else took forever.
“I Am War” was fun, because I like The Art of War by Sun Tzu. “Let There Be Shred” was fun to write, because it reminds me of having a guitar duel, like Fistful of Dollars kind of Clint Eastwood shit.
You know, whenever I sing, John, I have pictures of Clint Eastwood in the vocal booth — not how he looks now, but back when he was really young. I had pictures of that, and it just gives me a snotty kind of feeling when I’m singing. I don’t know why, it just… gets me in the right kind of headspace.
He’s kind of the master of emoting, right? Even in Gran Torino, his face in that is just incredible.
I love that one. That one was good.
I mean, you’re still you on this record and really snotty on a lot of these songs. I can hear you having fun in the booth. It’s cool.
I don’t lose sight of having fun. You know, I’ve heard so many people that are just angry — and the stuff that they say, people listen to. Kids listen to it, too.
I’m not proud of when I cuss. But I hardly cuss at all onstage. I hardly cuss at all on any of my records. Now, if you’re hanging out with me, I say the F-word all the time. But these are just little things that, yeah, you recognize them, you’re aware of them, and I try to be a really good example. Because first thing I know, little Johnny comes home, and he’s got his Megadeth record, and Johnny’s mom says to herself, “What the fuck is this?” Sees this monster on the cover.
And she starts listening to it, and for whatever reason it doesn’t put her in a bad place. And she wants to go with you because you want to go to a meet and greet. You come to a meet and greet, and you see how I behave. You see how I act with all the kids at the meet and greets. That’s the impression that I like leaving. Because, you know, your reputation comes before you get there. Character remains. And it’s just like a shadow. I don’t want my reputation to be what remains. I want my character.

Ross Halfin
The big headline is you closing the record with a cover of Metallica’s “Ride the Lightning.” On Killing Is My Business, you ended with “Mechanix” — kind of reclaiming your riff that they used for “The Four Horsemen.” There’s a clear parallel there. What does it mean to you to end the final Megadeth album with “Ride the Lightning”?
That was just random, I guess. [Laughs, pauses] I didn’t plan that. Honest. I promise.
It’s such a funny parallel, right? Like you’re taking this thing back: “Hey, this is mine.” But it doesn’t feel like it’s totally that on this one.
Maybe. I wasn’t trying to do anything disrespectful, that much I can tell you. You know, I really respect James [Hetfield’s] guitar playing. And I think that Lars [Ulrich] is a tremendous songwriter. I really did enjoy my time with them, that’s why I had such a hard time when it ended. And this is me closing the circle, paying my respects.
Do you feel like you’re also saying goodbye to your time in Metallica with this?
I didn’t think that, no. I loved that time. It was very fun. We were dangerous. But no, there’s no hidden agenda.
So this isn’t you having the last laugh?
You know, if I needed to get the last laugh, I would get it. [He pauses, and smiles] But no, this is about showing respect.
Have you spoken to the Metallica guys since word came out that you covered the song?
No. And I don’t expect to. But I’m sure at some point we’ll hear what they think.
Is that a friendship you wish was active?
You know, I liked them. If the friendship was restarted, it wouldn’t bother me. I would accept, and I think it would be nice to revisit some of those times. But I just think because there was a lot of hurt and misunderstanding around our time together that it would be difficult not to keep bringing up the past.
I think what needs to happen is there needs to be a Megadeth/Metallica tour. Period. That would, I’m sure, make everything right. We could hang out. Spend time together. But I know they don’t really tour like we do. I mean, when we go out on tour, we play many, many shows.
Rebuilding a relationship with somebody after you have so much history is really hard. I think everybody involved has to be like, “We’re new people, this is a new relationship.”
Yeah. It’s starting over. Sometimes, I think, when you have a grudge, you can’t… You can’t get past it. Personally, I’m pretty good at getting over grudges. But I don’t know…
If it’s meant to be, I’m sure I’ll see those guys. I remember we played up in San Francisco at the Cow Palace, and James told me he wanted me to play “My Last Words,” because that was his favorite song. I thought that was really cool. Thank you, James. To say that you had a favorite song of mine, that was really nice.

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What do you think the Dave that wrote and recorded Killing Is My Business would think of you now?
He’d be surprised I was still alive.
That’s what I thought you would say. Because look at your life now: You’ve put out all these records, Megadeth has become this force. But maybe more importantly, you have a really beautiful family. Your life is filled with people who love you. I imagine there were a lot of times back then where you felt really alone, and those times are probably a lot less frequent now.
Thank you. Really, thank you. Yes, you’re right. It’s great when you have good people around you. Especially if you were brought up like I was: being a latchkey kid, and my mom being a divorcee, and all that horrible shit I had to suffer through that you know about. It’s great to have a family. We’ve got a really strong family, and we’ve got a really good team of people with our work as well.
How do you hope people will remember you?
Still alive and well. I hope that they remember me being — if I’m gonna be serious now — somebody who loved and laughed and lived.

