Demonic set from metal gods
Is there anything quite like Metallica live? On Saturday night at Reading Festival, the US heavy metal fourpiece treated the crowd to a spectacular meaty monster of a show: all extreme, exhilarating volume, screaming guitars and bone-thundering drums.
When the band played Glastonbury in 2014, there were some mutterings about whether or not they were the right kind of headliners for the folksy Somerset crowd. But at Reading, one of the UK’s biggest rock festivals, Metallica – who first performed at the venue in 1997 – felt completely at home. There was no question of anyone being “won over”: they came, they played, and everyone was onside from the first note.
From opening track Fuel – with its shouty, irresistible “Give me Fuel! Give me Fire! Give me that which I desire!” chorus – to the thrillingly ominous
For Whom the Bell Tolls to the dark-ashell Master of Puppets (accompanied by projected images of helmeted skeletons marching to war), the band didn’t mess around, content to treat the crowd to four decades of hits.
Singer James Hetfield was the most visible member, standing right at the edge of the stage, and periodically booming out, “Reading, are you alive?” But Metallica cofounder Lars Ulrich, pummelling and sweating over his drums, pig-tailed bassist Robert Trujillo and ferociously energetic (and ferociously talented) long-locked guitarist Kirk Hammett all added to the theatrics.
Perhaps the band’s greatest strength is that they recognise the cathartic pleasure of their own live act, relishing the drama they create and playing up to the on-stage cameras. Hetfield was also adept at teasing the crowd: were we tired? Did we want more? Were we up for more? The answer, of course, was an ecstatic, almost sexual scream.
After the final encore – which included an atmospheric audience singalong of sonorous ballad Nothing
Else Matters – the night culminated in the release of dozens of giant black Metallica beach balls: a playful touch, that delighted the already happy crowd. Even the inevitable rain felt as though it were part of the act, adding to the wild, muddy fun.
Metallica did get suitable build up, following, as they did, rousing, passionate sets from Bring Me the Horizon and talented Brighton duo Royal Blood (who I’m sure will be a headline act themselves some time in the future, if their latter albums are as good as their first). Earlier in the day, in the BBC Radio 1/NME tent, highlights included Wolf Alice – charismatic frontwoman Ellie Rowsell had the crowd in the palm of her hand, veering from caramel sweet to snarling within a matter of seconds – and an enjoyable surprise set from Foals.
Friday was both warmer and dryer – a day for flowery headbands, shorts and sundresses, rather than hoodies and rain macs – and, musically speaking, a tad quieter. Bastille’s early evening set was a joy: they gave a winning performance, delivering melodious songs such as Things
We Lost in the Fire and Flaws to an appreciative audience.
Later on, acoustic, banjo-loving headliners Mumford and Sons proved the naysayers wrong, showing themselves more than capable of headlining a major festival. Belting out hits such as Little Lion Man and I
Will Wait, they succeeded in getting everyone to dance, and created an exuberant, party atmosphere. That said, it wasn’t quite as wild a party as the one Metallica threw the next day – think Friday night down the local, rather than full-on rave.
‘They treated the crowd to screaming guitars and bone-thundering drums’