Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Metallica rocks — and the fans rock back

"Get off the stage, you (expletive)!" bellowed someone behind me.

"We want (expletive) Metallica!" another one shouted.

And that was the evening of Saturday, Sept, 12; the chorus commented on every event that transpired on the massive stage constructed over Cashman Field's distant centerfield wall. Logically, the men -- the crowd was predominately male -- must have known that those on the stage couldn't hear them from the Peanut Gallery, but that wasn't the point.

The (expletive) in question was former Alice In Chains frontman Jerry Cantrell. I didn't care for him either -- too monotonous, perhaps due to an awful sound mix -- but the only commentary I supplied was in my notebook, which made me a counterintuitive element to the Metallica crowd: The band makes a loud noise, perhaps the loudest I've known. Their fans make one back. It's that simple.

From the second they took the stage ("Don't rush the masters," said a member of the chorus shortly before), Metallica was hooked into something beyond nature. "Breadfan" shocked as if the band had unzipped the gateway to the supernatural and encouraged the occult hand inside to smack the crowd. The Metallica sound is an eruption, and the second number, the full version of "Master of Puppets," incinerated the crowd with fierce, playful glee.

"Get your (expletive) lungs out, man!" roared vocalist James Hetfield before launching into "Of Wolf and Man." The crowd obliged with vigor. Say what you will about the pioneering metal band's recent haircuts and concessions to the nebulous "alternative rock" crowd (the fans certainly have said their share), but when Metallica speaks, you listen.

And listen we did. "The Memory Remains," "Nothing Else Matters" and "Wherever I May Roam" were pounded into our ever-softening skulls, hammered by Hetfield's authoritative growl and chunky rhythm guitar, Kirk Hammett's innovative leads, Jason Newsted's throbbing bass and Lars Ulrich's layered drumming.

If members of the audience were upset with the band for taking steps towards a higher commercial viability, they never showed it, and by the time the crossover hit "One" rolled around they were crazed with joy.

"You guys (expletive) rock!" the chorus screamed in my ear. I agreed, and had well before when the band tore through "Fuel," a number that deserves to become their signature. It is Metallica's "Born To Be Wild" -- an ode to hot-rodding and self-indulgence that will make any car stereo into an implement of destruction.

Having sated the crowd's desire, the band elected to serve their own. The "southern rock" trappings of recent album releases "Load" and "Re-Load" have inspired much agonizing among the diehards, and Metallica chose wisely to stomp on that sore point. The first three encores were not only acoustic, they were country-fed acoustic, with slide guitar and the works. "The Four Horsemen" came back as something that wouldn't be out of place in a Son Volt set. "Last Caress" stirred uneasy memories of Lynryd Skynyrd, and Hetfield had to goose the crowd halfway through by threatening to end the set unless the crowd sang along. Bravo.

Faithful, full-electric versions of "Sad But True," "Enter Sandman" and "Creeping Death" sealed the pact, and the band walked the massive stage for a full three minutes after the last note died away, taking bows and tossing guitar picks into the crowd.

"Thanks for coming out to see your old friends 'Tallica," Hetfield said genuinely. It was a beautiful gesture to the chorus -- one that denied every "we don't care what the fans think" statement the band had ever made.

And the crowd roared appreciatively back at their old friends. After such an intense evening, there was truly no alternative.

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