Allstate Arena / Rosemont, IL
January 26, 2009
By Anthony Kuzminski
{Photo Credits-Metontour.com}
Inside the Allstate Arena there are fire blasts, a myriad of lasers, 17,000 impassioned fans roaring but when the four members of Metallica ascended to Lars Ulrich’s drum riser midway through their first show in Chicago, none of the aforementioned theatrics mattered. The band glared at each other and unleashed “Master of Puppets” and tore through it the way a bullet shreds flesh. They jammed exultantly with a fierce force that no one could deny. At its conclusion, there was one underlying fact that no one could deny; Metallica is as good as any live band on the planet at this moment in time. Earlier in the show, “Broken, Beat and Scarred” was introduced by lead singer James Hetfield about being about not just Metallica, but for “anyone who has struggled”. Looking around the arena, I saw a lot of worn faces who have probably faced more hardships than they should. The song, a distorted riff-heavy fireball baptism is one of seven new songs Metallica are performing nightly from Death Magnetic; this ladies and gentlemen is what differentiates the 2009 model of Metallica from any other one you have seen in well over a decade.
There are bands that let success and excess get the best of them. Over the last quarter century there are few bands that have been as consistent in a live arena as Metallica. Always with a clear eye on what their fans want, even during their chopped hair phase, they never sold themselves or their fans short. Don’t believe me? Grab one of their live DVD’s and take a gander and you’ll see what I mean. However, when I saw them in 2004, it was a band in the midst of re-embracing their past. Only two songs from St. Anger were aired. This time around, seven songs from the band’s latest record, Death Magnetic were performed, all with tenacity usually reserved for only the hungriest of up and comers. The lights dimmed amidst the intro music for “The Ecstasy of Gold”, their standard intro tape for a few decades; if it isn’t broke, why fix it? “That Was Just Your Life” served notice that Metallica was back. Aside from the swirling array of lasers, lights were largely non-existent from the stage. No one member was more important than any other; the collective weight of their bond was the driving force and connection. No lights were needed, because if you closed your eyes, it could take you back to your bedroom in your youth where you felt the world didn’t understand you, but the music did. That is how potent the songs on Death Magnetic are. The band segued easily between their new songs and their classic anthems, enthralling all in the process. Post Load each new set list proved to be a smidgen less inspiring because the new material had a hard time finding its footing amidst all of their classics. Metallica is a band whose faith in their new material is so strong that they could have drowned in it. You know those shows where a classic rock artist comes out and performs eight out of the eleven songs from the new record? Usually it elicits multiple runs to washrooms, scattered chatting and complete apathy from the audience. I have never seen a band this far along into their career be able to dedicate almost half of their show to new songs and get away with it like a thief in the night.
If you were a non-fan along for the ride, you would have had a hard time differentiating the classic material from the Death Magnetic songs as the crowd was unrelenting in their snarling veneration. The sold-out crowd was bustling with fanatical zeal; “The End of the Line” found a flurry of fists fly to the air, “Creeping Death” exercised their fanatical vocal chords while “Ride the Lightning” cajoled the moshing into full effect like a matador swaying a cape to entice a bull. "Cyanide" was rigorous in a archetypal Metallica vein amidst a complex arrangement that featured the masterful finger work of bassist Robert Trujillo. “The Day That Never Comes” is the most archetypical of Metallica songs from Death Magnetic that features solos from guitarist Kirk Hammett that don’t just smoke, but are fueled with soul. “All Nightmare Long” was brawny and bold with a machine-gun middle barrage of guitars that is as good as anything Metallica has ever done. None of the new seven songs had pyrotechnics; the band wanted this music to stand on its own. Even though there is a darker presence on the record, it’s steeped in with newfound enthusiasm. “Broken, Beat and Scarred” is a revelation lyrically as this was a band that wallowed in gloom and desolation but they have managed to create a ferocious flip side of sanguinity. No longer will they be seduced by the dark side of life, despite being aware it exists. The greatest trick the devil ever played on God was convincing the world he didn’t exist and while Metallica still sheds a light on the travesties of life, they offer glimmering rays of hope with the same intensity they created their early masterpieces. It’s about tearing down walls in front of you and not letting them crush you and this is their message which is why they have among the most steadfast followings of any music artist on the planet.
The landmark songs took off like a rocket ship; “One” was awash in primal screams, “Enter Sandmen” was mighty and muscular, and “Blackened” erupted amidst a pyrotechnic blast that could have served as a metaphor for the evenings overall performance; explosive and epic. “Wherever I May Roam” was entrenched into the psyche of all 17,000 in attendance (“I adapt to the unknown”) as their voices soared above the band. In some ways, many of Hetfield’s best lyrics went unappreciated until the last few years. He sings with a renewed purpose and wisdom. He’s a survivor and sings the songs in the hopes that those who listen will triumph over barriers, evidenced on the solemn “Nothing Else Matters”, a song which I don’t believe even he fully grasped for well over a decade after writing it. The evening’s greatest non-musical asset was their in-the-round stage. There were no video screens, because they weren’t needed. The stage set up provides an overriding communal feeling where there truly are not any bad seats. It levels the playing field where no one fan feels left out. There were lasers, coffins which emit lights, fire (and lots of it), 17,000-plus fanatical fans, but most importantly, amidst the vastness and aural chaos of it all are four musicians playing within an inch of each others lives, this outweighs any theatric because at the end of the day, it’s about the music.
Despite the larger-than-life level of the entire show, the encores showcased Metallica as just another garage band. The Misfits “Last Caress” was devilishly delightful in a animated performance. They are one of the few bands who can execute a cover that is on par with the original and Metallica can pull it off because ultimately, they are fans of music just like you and me. The thrashing “Motorbreath” and the finale “Seek and Destroy”, with a stinging riff, were ragged in a glorious garage band manner. In many ways, Metallica is all about bringing it back to ground zero at the end of the day. The house lights were on, Hammett churned out that instantly memorable and incandescent riff, Ulrich whipped his drums with rage, Hetfield growled his vocals and Trujillo spun in circles (literally). The effects were downright devastating; the crowd was vociferous and manic and most importantly, the four members of Metallica played out of their skins. Metallica are more than a band aging gracefully, but one who is maturing in ways no one deemed imaginable a quarter of a century ago. Instead of retreating into an existence where market conditions dictate what kind of music should be made, they hired the muse Rick Rubin and once again, found that inner hunger and are once again the metal masters. This wasn’t just an evening about reclaiming former glories, but reaffirming that they still matter and will continue to as time rolls on. For two-hours and ten minutes the band roamed wherever they chose amidst their in-the-round stage proving once and for all that they are indeed the metal master of their domain.
Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network and his daily writings can be read at The Screen Door and can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com.
