Advertisement
- Louder, Faster, Stronger: How Metallica Conquered Bad Habits, Group Therapy and Ego Clashes to Make Their Heaviest Record Ever
- Photo Gallery: Three Decades of Metallica
You have been in Metallica for your entire adult life.
Have you ever felt restricted?
I made myself feel restricted: "I'm tired of arguing. I'm not gonna
argue for another five hours about something little and stupid. You
win. This is Lars' band. When I'm able to be me, it'll be the side
project, the solo thing." Which is just ridiculous. Every band that
I've known that has done side projects or things like that —
I don't respect them anymore.
There are very strict parameters to life in Metallica.
It's like joining the Army.
The metal militia, dude! We've all discovered there is freedom
through structure. There has to be some structure in my life, at
least. I think Lars has discovered that a lot. You could look at
Jason [Newsted] as the sacrificial lamb. I didn't want him doing 12
side projects: "You're in Metallica." But it was so unconnected
when he left [in 2001], so compartmentalized. But now, Metallica is
the four of us. This is our solo project. This is the best way to
get our emotions and feelings out and touch people.
Was there a clear leader in the beginning? You or
Lars?
There were leaders in different ways. There's no doubt Lars was the
spearhead of wanting to get a band together. But I was the same,
and we joined forces. Lars had the name. I had the logo. He was
more the business guy, the thinker. I'm much less of a thinker. And
there was his personality, the only child growing up in a pretty
well-off family.
A well-off bohemian family.
Yeah, getting to do what he wants, anytime, anywhere. The negative
side of that, somewhat obvious — spoiledness. But the
positive side of that is he can get it done. He has the faith he
can get it done. There are times when I think all of us follow his
energy. There's fear at times. I can see it in him, when he feels
like he's not getting his way. We always revert to our teenage
years [laughs].
Have there been moments you can point to when it's not
about being bandmates or Metallica against the world, but just two
guys who share an emotional moment together — without
embarrassment?
When it's just him and I, easily. The obvious one was me coming out
of rehab — trying to talk to him, one on one, where I've been
and need to go, what I'm feeling. There are times when he's gone
through rough stuff as well. You forget all the shit. The armor
gets taken off. You sit down and . . . [takes a deep
breath] There were even times long before that. Lars would get
himself in trouble in a bar, and I'd step up and get him out of it
or protect him. Yeah, the little brother with the big mouth.
[Laughs] Depending on who it was, I'd let him sort out
some of his messes himself.
When you came back from rehab, you had to reconnect with
both your family and the band. How hard was it? In a sense, you had
to do it twice.
My whole life was duality: Here's my life at home, here's my life
on the road. Keep the family at home, because they don't want to
see what's out there. Eventually they had to get to know each
other. Yes, they are two separate things. It's no secret. We get on
stage, and we're our alterego. We are the person we want to be:
strong, in control, singing to the masses. At home, at times I'm
not even heard [laughs]. But they have to live together,
and they do — pretty well.
Advertisement
In your early lyrics, you wrote a lot about war, death and authority. But unlike a lot of thrash and punk bands at the time, you never fell into the I-hate-my-parents and I-hate-school cliches. You wrote about reacting to pressure, but you never personalized it into family.
There are pro-family songs — "Battery," "Whiplash." They are "fan" family songs. Go and conquer together. There is one song I can specifically disagree with you on, "Dyers Eve" ["Dear mother, dear father, what is this hell you have put me through"]. There is a lot of blame in that song.
Blame for what?
Insulating and alienating, which happened a lot with our religion
[Christian Science]. That song was about being in a cocoon, and now
that I'm out on my own, oh, my God, the world is shocking me. I
don't know how to deal with this stuff. I don't know how to deal
with grief, poverty, confrontation. How to live on my own, after
father leaving, mother dying.
Was the band your family for awhile?
Yeah, and that works for the first three or four albums. Everyone
wants that: the vigor, fire, piss and vinegar. You really believe
that you're taking on the world. A lot of that us-against-them that
I had with our family transferred to the band, where it became a
positive thing. Then as the band starts growing up, things start
going other ways. "Wait a minute, you guys aren't as dedicated as I
am. I'm holding this together." The fear of abandonment again
started to play up. But I understand it now. I also feel there's
more dedication from the four of us than ever before.
When did the notion of success — financially
— first hit you? Do you recall what you did with your first
big check?
Buying a house. That was a big deal — up on the hill, away
from everyone. Had the gate. This was after the "Black Album."
Jason used to make fun of me, that I had a gate.
It keeps people out.
Keeps me in [laughs]. But to keep people out, yeah. That's
my private area.
When Metallica opened for the Rolling Stones in San
Francisco in 2005, did you get a sense of the levels of stardom out
there ? the backstage behind the backstage?
The fact that we were in a trailer, not even in the backstage area,
was somewhat humbling.
And back to a deli tray?
I remember going to catering. We were going on early. We needed to
eat before everyone else. I opened up the shepherd's pie, and
someone said, "Hey, don't touch that. Ron Wood always puts the
first spoon in the shepherd's pie." So I took the biggest spoonful
I could and filled my plate [grins]. I didn't do it as a dis to
them, just the system. Then it was, "Okay, everyone line up. The
Stones are coming out. If you want to get a picture with them . .
." They had someone arranging that. There was an actual line.
Like meeting royalty.
It was crazy. Should I bow or curtsy? How do I address them? And
they come out — and they're regular. They're like, "Hey,
what's up?" They're all regular dudes. All that other stuff is more
"important" than it really is. There are times when I sit and
think, "We got it really good. We have it perfect." Then you hear
U2 does this, AC/DC has this. Well, okay. I think Lars is more
aware of that. I'm more fearful that if it goes too far, we'll
never come back.