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SUMMER SANITARIUM
07.08.03
GIANTS STADIUM

METALLICA | LIMP BIZKIT | LINKIN PARK | DEFTONES | MUDVAYNE


I heard Metallica's latest record, "St. Anger," and leveled my expectations for Summer Sanitarium accordingly. That is, on paper, it really looked like Metallica were bringing out the contemporary big guns to bolster their own aging career.

And one by one each band seemed to reinforce my pessimism with toasts, homages and gushings about the headliner; think mutual admiration society without the mutual. When the openers spend so much time hyping the headliner that it's a noticed distraction, one has to think what the motivation must be.

Turns out I think too much.

And while I was busy thinking, Metallica kicked my pessimistic ass.
_____

The tickets read 3:00 and they weren't kidding. Mudvayne went on five minutes after. Only problem there was I didn't get to my seat until 3:35. Nice seat, at least, the upper deck/tier/balcony over my head providing cover from the sun.

Mudvayne was great for the two songs I saw. They performed sans makeup, a visual that would take me longer than 5 minutes to get used to, and, though their playing didn't suffer, there was an element missing for me. Never underestimate the power of theater or the freedom donning a disguise gives you.

The Deftones came on next after a quick set change [a quickness not indicative of the rest of the afternoon's set changes]. Though a big fan of this band, I'm not sure their set translates well at a Stadium show. Nobody in music screams like Chino and they never disappoint live, but their music calls for a more intimate setting; at least more intimate than a third-filled Giants Stadium at 4:00 in the afternoon affords it. Still, the band brought its "A" game and played a solid, 45-minute set.

45 minutes would also be the length of time between them and the next act, Linkin Park. During our wait we were treated to a fight breaking out on the stadium floor.

     Tickets to Summer Sanitarium: $75.00
     Gas and tolls to get there: $17.00
     Parking: $15.00
     Four beers: $26.00
     Getting thrown out after the second band: Priceless

Linkin Park came on at 5:25 and it didn't take long to declare front man Chester Bennington no worse for wear [LP had canceled some summer dates due to singer Bennington's health]. He sounded great - few singers are able to push that kind of anguish through their vocal chords. The Park played for just over an hour but with very little filler, a testament to just how many hit songs they managed on their gazillion unit selling debut. Though I could have done without some of the good guy interactions with the crowd, "This one is for you guys! And so is this one! And, um, this one too!," I guess this really is a good guy band. Don't get me wrong, that's not an indictment of their music. I sang along like everybody else and got chills the first time Chester belted out "Shut up when I'm talking to you!" like everybody else.

But let's face it, kiddies, this stuff is Milk and Cookies Metal.

And then came Fred.

I mean Limp Bizkit.

I mean limpbizkit.

I will say this about limpbizkit and singer Fred Durst; when they are actually performing, Durst is a charismatic front man with contagious energy and their songs are both infectious and groovin'.

Problem is they barely perform.

The hour-plus long set featured three covers [more if you consider most of their songs are really the same song], a handful of originals, some major Metallica ass-kissing and 30 minutes of Durst talking. Durst on Angelina Jolie, Durst on how cool real fire is, Durst on his hat, Durst on how crazy it is over here in the pit...

You get the impression not even he believes the music is good enough to stand on its own, that he plays to the crowd to distract them from how vacuous their songs really are.

There's the talking, the shotgun shooting, more talking, the walking to the back of the stadium, the ranting, the chatting, the complaining, the talking. He spends more time trying to win the crowd over than actually performing and it's a shame because, when he is performing, he is winning the crowd over.

      "Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
     That struts and Freds his hour upon the stage,
     And then is heard no more;
     It is a tale
     Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
     Signifying nothing."
                                   - William Shakespeare [mostly]

And oh how I wish he hadn't sung "Behind Blue Eyes." Really.
_____

9:25PM, EST. Standard Metallica set opener "Ecstasy of Gold" accompanies clips from the film it's taken from, The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly. The band appears.

     "Battery"

The first notes hit and a chill runs up the back of my neck.

I get it in an instant. This is not the Metallica I expected. This is not the over-the-hill Metallica, hanging on one tour too long, one album too many... Not the past-their-prime Metallica riding the coattails of younger, fresher openers...

     "Master of Puppets"

This is the Metallica of the mid-80's; the arena-killers, the world's greatest metal band, the hardest-rockin' band in music.

     "Harvester of Sorrow"

I will readily admit I have not enjoyed anything the band has written in over 10 years, that I am one of those Metallica purists that thinks everything after the Black album [and most of that album] is crap.

     "Welcome Home [Sanitarium]"

I will also readily admit that I came into this night with more than a little trepidation, more than a little concern for how bad I thought they'd be.

     "For Whom The Bell Tolls"

Boy, was I wrong.

     "Frantic"

Until now... For the record, they're giving it their all, rocking as hard on this song as the previous five. But playing "Frantic," off new album "St. Anger," just gives us definitive proof that the new material doesn't hold water, especially when played next to and after the five classic tunes they just gave us.

     "Sad But True"

We're six songs in now and it's time for a well-deserved break. The crowd sings every word back to them. I get a hot dog.

     "St. Anger"

Metallica has to play at least two songs from the new album. Any less would be vindication for the naysayers, proof positive that the criticism laid down was right on the money and that the band itself doesn't believe its own hype. So, mercifully, they play just two. Unfortunately, as hard as they try on them the songs simply lack the substance of their earlier work.

     "No Remorse"

After a brief, 3-song tangent - whose sole purpose appeared to be to get the new songs over with - they're back on track.

     "Seek And Destroy"

It's 10:20, nearly an hour in, and people are starting to trickle out. Perhaps they're tired. Perhaps they're looking to avoid traffic. Doesn't matter. Leave now, leave after the second encore... The band has made its point.

     "Blackened"

Their main set closes with "Blackened." Two encores are still to come. Doesn't matter. Finish now, finish after the second encore... The band has made its point.
_____

Whether they admit it or not, Metallica had something to prove tonight and on the remainder of this tour. This is a band on a mission to prove to its most loyal fans, to its most ardent critics, even to themselves that not only can they still hang, but they can still raise the bar.

I went to Summer Sanitarium with the lowest of expectations. Even had I gone in with the highest, they would have blown those expectations out of the water. This was Metallica the way I'd remembered them; before Bob Rock, before Napster, before cutting their hair, before the internet...

Make no mistake about it - I still believe "St. Anger" is a failure of a record, I still think everything during and after the black album is sub-standard and I still don't agree with some of the things they have to say.

But for an hour and a half one night at Giants Stadium, none of that mattered.

For an hour and a half, like no other band can, Metallica shut me up and kicked my ass.

And I couldn't have been happier.

review by scott sisti