Metallica with the San Francisco Symphony
Chase Center, San Francisco
Two decades on, S&M returns in triumph with a set-list packed with surprises.
The internet lost its shit when Metallica announced they would be teaming up with the San Francisco Symphony once again. The celebration of Symphony And Metallica’s 20th anniversary – crunched down to S&M as a title – looked set to be one of the biggest spectacles of the year, and some key questions were being asked: how would the show evolve? Which songs would get the orchestral treatment? Will Rob Trujillo wear a tux?!
So, understandably, the atmosphere in the Chase Center is absolutely electric hours before anything actually happens. By the time the orchestra quietly walk out to take their place on stage – situated in the round, unlike its predecessor, meaning everyone gets a great view – they’re met with an almighty cheer. Then, the lights dim, the crowd goes truly doolally and the stirring strings of Ecstasy Of Gold fill up the auditorium.
It’s already the best intro track in music, but to hear it played live is spine-tingling. Already, this doesn’t feel like Just Another Metallica Show, and as James, Lars, Kirk and Rob stroll out (the latter rocking a suit-andVans combo, FYI), the venue feels ready to explode.
As with the original S&M, Call Of Ktulu kicks the night off, sounding huge with its added sonic layers and exactly like the kind of track this concept was made for. For Whom The Bell Tolls follows – another returning cut whose menacing, methodical pacing leaves gaps for the strings to really shine through. Next is an S&M debut: The Day That Never Comes, an obvious choice for tonight that sounds absolutely stunning, the slower first half in particular drawing goosebumps with its new lease of life. Metallica themselves, playing in the middle and surrounded by the Symphony, look a little tense for this opening trio of songs, deep in concentration, James Hetfield’s usual patter in particular noticeable by its absence. Once Day is done and dusted, however, there’s a noticeable change in atmosphere: a wave of relief that things aren’t just going to plan, but going pretty damn spectacularly.
“Hello friends!” beams Papa Het, dressed in a black dress shirt and trousers. “I wanna take this time to introduce our friends, the San Francisco Symphony!” Another cheer rolls out as they lurch into a stomping The Memory Remains, and the band’s body language shifts – suddenly James, Kirk and Rob are all swapping mics and stomping around the stage, even strolling into the first rows of the all-seated audience.
Confusion is one of the night’s few ‘meh’ moments; in truth, it’s a weak track overall, and while its slower, groovier vibe does fit the orchestra well, it’s not enough to save it from feeling like a slight loss of momentum. Not to worry: Moth Into Flame is a far more welcome addition, sounding borderline psychotic with the added frenetic bursts of strings, backed by sleazy neon visuals draped across the spiral screens hanging over the stage.
Outlaw Torn is a towering highlight: a full-blown epic with the symphony behind it, begging the question of
why we don’t see it appear in Metallica sets more often. It also reaffirms what the first S&M suggested – that this concept works best when Metallica take their foot off the pedal a little, allowing the orchestra to swirl around spaces not already filled up by thrashing riffs or breakneck drumming.
No Leaf Clover – first debuted on S&M – sounds predictably at home, while Halo On Fire fits in seamlessly, that sumptuous last two minutes bolstered by added strings and the crowd singing along with Kirk’s devastatingly impactful leads. Already people are off their seats and jumping about, and we’re only at the interlude.
It’s when we come back from the break that things get really interesting. “This makes us so proud,” beams Lars, introducing SFS Director, Michael Tilson Thomas. He’s here to conduct two classical numbers: Sergei Sergeyevich Prokofiev’s Scythian Suite and Alexander Mosolev’s Iron Foundry. Michael’s short speech explaining the songs’ shared DNA with heavy metal lends a nice touch to the most surprising portion of the set – made all the more surreal by Metallica themselves popping back up to jam the second number with the orchestra. It could have been a massive misfire, but it receives a rapturous response from a crowd delighted to be witnessing something so different to anything they’ve seen before.
The surprises don’t stop there: a heart-swelling burst of horns paves way for Death Magnetic cut The Unforgiven III, James binning off his guitar and bandmates for a unique and emotionally raw take on one of Metallica’s most underrated modern songs. Then there’s St Anger’s All Within My Hands, given a country-fried twang and bonus symphonic elements that elevate it far beyond its recorded version.
What follows is the evening’s most emotionally resonant moment. SFS musician Scott Pingel takes the stage with a stand-up bass and bow to perform Cliff Burton-penned instrumental, Anesthesia (Pulling Teeth). It’s a beautiful tribute, and when James adds after that “Cliff would love to be here,” you can safely assume he’s spot on, the much missed bassist’s love of classical music having heavily influenced the band’s early years.
From there it’s an easy home run: Wherever I Roam, One, Master Of Puppets, Nothing Else Matters and Enter Sandman are all S&M repeats, but they all sound great. Roam and One in particular are afforded welcome extra layers with some gorgeous extended intros, while everyone getting their phone lights out for Nothing Else Matters creates a lovely bonus backdrop.
As Sandman wraps things up and the band and orchestra take their bow to a seven minute ovation, two things are clear. Firstly, that S&M 2 is a resounding success. Secondly, that as much as we may be quick to point out when Metallica’s experiments miss the mark, we should also give them credit when they pull these things off. Tonight, they’ve done that and then some. “We are blessed,” smiles James as everyone finally departs the stage. “We had a beautiful time.” Judging by the shit-eating grins bouncing out into the streets of San Francisco, so did everyone else.