On the credits for Metallica’s third album, Master Of Puppets, the band gleefully attributes Carlsberg lager, Absolut vodka, and Alka-Seltzer as three of their greatest inspirations.
In those days, their motto was “conquer the world and drink all of its alcohol,” and they left destruction wherever they played.
“We used to begin imbibing as soon as we awoke. We’d finish the show by three o’clock, and then we’d have eight or nine hours to drink,” drummer Lars Ulrich recalled in 2003 of the infamous Monsters Of Rock tour with Van Halen.
“There are photographs of us flashing everyone with our trousers off atop Tampa Stadium. Four o’clock in the afternoon, and we’re already completely inebriated.”
James Hetfield, the lead singer of Metallica, remarked that it was difficult to return to some of these towns because so many fathers, mothers, husbands, and boyfriends were searching for him. Except that he had no idea why: “That entire tour was a fog.”
At the time, the band was still reeling from the 1986 bus tragedy that claimed the life of bassist Cliff Burton. While they persevered, substance addiction and dysfunctional relationships buried their sorrow.
In 2004, Hetfield eventually underwent treatment for his addictions. The remaining members of Metallica have also reformed characters.
Ulrich, speaking over the phone from America, states, “The days of staying up all night and watching the sun rise are largely behind us.”
The percussionist has replaced lager and vodka with a more refined addiction: tea.
“A teapot and a cup are within arm’s reach in front of me,” he chuckles.
This particular blend of Earl Grey tea with a trace of vanilla is practically my lifeblood. Not only is it delicious, but it also gives me energy. I send everyone around me insane with my insanity.”
Ulrich has, however, always been Metallica’s beating core.
In 1981, he was the one who advertised in the newspaper, “Drummer seeking other metal musicians to jam with.” He was responsible for convincing an acquaintance to donate the name Metallica to the band. And he continues to serve as the unofficial historian, spokesperson, and musical director of the quartet.
When it came time to create Metallica’s eleventh studio album, 72 Seasons, Ulrich did what he always does: he began sifting through months of material while drinking scalding hot tea.
“It is one of the few things that has not changed in the past four decades,” he says. “There will be a plethora of riffs, jams, and sound checks, and it’s my job to sift through them and determine, ‘That one’s great, that one’s good, maybe there’s a song here’.”
The end product is one of Metallica’s heaviest, most crushing albums to date – a relentless onslaught of riffs that hits you like a tidal wave.
“For a bunch of guys who have been around the block, I like how relentless it is,” he says.
Hetfield opens with his foot on the accelerator. The title track features razor-sharp thrash guitars, breakneck rhythms, and vibrant lyrics about “man’s wrath.” This is followed by the claustrophobic night terrors of Shadows Follow while Screaming Suicide is a more straightforward metal exercise that still ranks at the top of the Scoville scale.
But beneath the storm and thunder, Hetfield is at his most vulnerable on this album.
The singer has recently endured several tribulations, including a second spell in rehab and a divorce from costume designer Francesca Tomasi. He channels his pain into the album’s lyrics, which discuss temptation, isolation, “bloodshot eyes,” and the “phantom” of fame.
Screaming Suicide, a dark dialogue between Hetfield and his interior demons in which he resists the temptation of self-destruction, is perhaps the most potent.
“It’s ridiculous to believe that we should deny having these thoughts,” the singer said in response to the lyrics. It is a human experience; therefore, we should be able to discuss it.
Ulrich adds, “James is particularly adept at reassuring you that you are not alone.”
“We all deal with darker issues to varying degrees of intensity; conversing about these matters can often be extremely beneficial.”
The song embodies the central idea of 72 Seasons, which is that the emotions and experiences of your first 18 years remain with you forever.
Despite selling 125 million records worldwide, Ulrich, who was reared as an only child in bohemian Denmark, feels like an “outcast” and a “loner” despite being an only child.
“It does not operate that way. Yes, there are times when it dissipates and you experience the euphoria of the music connecting with 80,000 people. Nevertheless, there are still times when I feel like an interloper.
After evading these emotions for over an hour, the final track of 72 Seasons eventually offers a glimmer of hope, as Hetfield declares: “My misery / She’s not what I’m living for.”
Inamorata is the longest song they have ever recorded, clocking in at over 11 minutes. It is a constantly-shifting requiem constructed from a “jam session in the tuning room” during their last tour and was developed extensively over lockdown.
However, with Hetfield and Ulrich turning 60 this year, singing such long, complicated songs is becoming harder.
The drummer confesses that he goes to the gym and stays there longer than in the past. Aging requires greater effort to maintain a level or plateau.
Originally an avid outdoor runner, he switched to a treadmill during the lockdown and now spends hours on a Peloton, watching Tarantino boxsets and falling YouTube rabbit holes.
As he prepares for tour rehearsals, he searches for obscure live footage of Black Sabbath and Deep Purple.
“Not only are you inspired, but every time you discover something you’d missed, you also uncover something new. It’s one thing to be introduced to something new, but it’s equally satisfying to rediscover something new in music with which you’ve had a 40-year association.”
A lengthy digression is Ulrich’s favourite record, Deep Purple’s 1972 live album Made In Japan.
Originally recorded in Osaka and Tokyo, the official release is a compilation of multiple tour dates; however, there are recordings of each performance, and the musician is intrigued by how the set evolved.
“The songs of the majority of bands in 2023, including the one you’re speaking with, do not vary significantly from night to night,” he says. “However, if you take a song like Child In Time and listen to the recording on Made In Japan, as well as the alternate recordings from the night before and the night after, it’s insane how dissimilar they are.
“One night the song is eight minutes long, the next night it’s eleven, and it’s entirely improvised. The musicians are simply taking risks and seeing where they land.
It is not always feasible for Metallica.
It’s fantastic when music leaves your mind and enters your body, but Metallica songs make you ponder.
“In Blackened, for example, it’s essential to remain on top of all the starts, stops, and tempo changes. “Here it arrives. “With four bars remaining, I hope I don’t mess this up!”
On their upcoming tour, the band will take a novel approach to keep things interesting. The “no-repeat weekend” will see the band visit a new city each week (including Leicestershire’s Download Festival) and perform two concerts, with a different setlist and support lineup each night.
“It’s a little crazy and a little intimidating,” Ulrich says, “but it gives you a completely blank canvas every night, which is always a good thing when you’ve been around as long as we have.”
Metallica will also purchase its vinyl factory in Virginia in 2023.
It primarily enables them to meet demand. Metallica sold 387,000 vinyl records in 2014.
However, the shift is also motivated by necessity. Metallica had to submit 72 Seasons six months in advance to ensure vinyl availability. Throughout that period, they faced the possibility of music leakage. They can reduce these lead periods by acquiring Furnace Records, which has pressed their discs for the past 15 years.
Ulrich asserts, however, that they will not be the only beneficiaries.
“It’s a little intimidating, but we’re trying to find a way to combine what we’re doing with assisting our brothers and sisters in other bands and ensuring that the presses continue to operate at optimum capacity. Hopefully, this will assist in the distribution of more independent music.”
And, presumably, he can create some insane, one-of-a-kind Deep Purple bootlegs for himself.
“You know what?” he asks with a conspiratorial chuckle. “I’ll just slip in there at 3 a.m. and pick up some Made in Japan live variations on vinyl. Two copies only, one for you and one for me.”
