The last time I saw metallica play live was, oh, ‘92 when they toured ‘Metallica’ (the Black Album) and they were, well, a bit shit. If you can remember that far back it was when they thought it would be a good idea not to have a support band but a live video feed to their dressing room before the show. A lot of fans, quite rightly, felt they’d disappeared too far up their own arses.

But the World magnetic Tour is different.

The support bands were The Sword and Machine Head. Poor old Sword must have been poked on stage as soon as the doors opened (at 7.00pm) because by the time we took our seats, after an extended search for some ice for Mrs B’s wine because it ‘wasn’t cold enough’, they were gone. Machine head faired a bit better in terms of audience turnout, and put on a decent show marred only by a fairly poor sound mix that made them sound like a wall of noise if you didn’t know the song they were playing.

Metallica took the stage at around 9.15pm after the rousing intro of Ennio Morricone’s Ecstasy of Gold and opened with That Was Just Your Life in an incredible laser show, followed immediately by The End of the Line. Performing on a a central arena stage, with mic stands on all sides and corners, and a central rotating drum riser meant that almost everyone got a pretty good view of the action. Impressive lighting rigs consisting of four giant metallic coffins moved and twisted above the stage, while pyrotechnics blasted flames through the floor (particularly effective during the battle-sounds intro to One).

The set list pulled together much of Death Magnetic with some quality back catalogue. As well as the intro tracks, Death Magnetic also provided Broken, Beat & Scarred, The Day That Never Comes, Judas Kiss and My Apocalypse (played live for the first time on the night according to James Hetfield). From the back catalogue we had Creeping Death, Master of Puppets, Ride the Lightning, Sad but True, Enter Sandman, Nothing Else Matters and Blackened. The band played extremely well, full of energy, and looked like they were having fun throughout. Lars Ulrich, who’s looked a bit podgy and unfit recently, was a lean mean skin pounding machine and played an absolute blinder, underpinning the masterful guitar thrash-offs between Hetfield and Hammet. Bassist Rob Trujillo, visually, sticks out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the band, but gurned and slapped his bass through every song like the best of them.

All too soon the sold out audience was chanting for an encore which was, slightly disappointingly, comprised of Black Sabbath’s Hole in the Sky and a Diamond Head’s The Prince. They rescued the encore by ending off with the finale of Seek and Destroy with the house lights up as dozens of massive black inflatables some 3 feet in diameter were released from the roof and bounced around the crowd for the duration. To their credit, as the songs had finished the band didn’t just run straight off stage into a waiting limo, they spent at least another 15 minutes throwing guitar picks and drumsticks to the crowd and taking time to thank people for coming, both from the stage edge and over the PA.

Welcome back Metallica, you’ve spent too long in the wilderness.

Full Set List:

That Was Just Your Life
The End of the Line
Creeping Death
Ride The Lightning
One
Broken, Beat & Scarred
My Apocalypse
Sad But True
Welcome Home (Sanitarium)
The Judas Kiss
Kirk Solo #1
The Day That Never Comes
Master Of Puppets
Blackened
Kirk Solo #2
Nothing Else Matters
Enter Sandman
Hole In The Sky (Black Sabbath Cover)
The Prince (Diamond Head Cover)
Seek and Destroy

No trip to Mickeyland would be complete without getting the kids photographed with the man himself, Michael T. Mouse, so my better half queued up with the youngsters while I got a into a decent position to take a photo. I got to watch all the folks come and get photographed with Mickey while I was waiting. Of particular amusement was the pair of teenage girls trying to pose while doing retarded rap/gang symbols. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, I’ll hand you over to ‘Da Flame’ of legendary internet fuckwits ‘Icy Hot Stuntaz’ to demonstrate (click=big):


Thank you ‘Da Flame’.
So girl number one does that sideways v-sign thing, while girl number two attempts that ‘Westside’ thing but can’t get her fingers to stick properly, so gives up and resorts to sideways v-sign too. I can hardly contain my amusement, she can barely hide her embarrassment.

Yeah bitches, throw out those gang symbols, because Mickey is GANGSTA!

If movie folklore is to be believed, when a person is killed and returns to life as one of the walking dead they still retain aspects of their former personality. Now, what if that person happened to be vegetarian?

Imagine the mental torture of a creature with an insatiable hunger for human flesh, that is governed by the overwhelming feeling that it’s wrong to kill another sentient being for food.

When there finally is no more room in hell, and the dead do indeed walk the earth, I’ll be happy that I’m a meat-eater. At least I’ll get a guilt-free share of the chow-down.

If you turn the situation round, men are much less discerning. Sure, a pair of pert norks that head forward entirely under their own steam are great, but a pair of soft floppy ones that succumb to gravity are still pretty fucking great too.

So ladies, love your man and love his man-boobs. After all, we return the favour for you.

So in advance of starting this, I had a think about what I could write about. A few things came to mind that had happened recently, a few things I could at least spin into something worth reading. Rather than look to the past, I’ve decided to look to the future and concentrate on the things that will happen.

Which means the rest of my life is now doomed to mundanity.