THIS IS A PRE-ORDER ITEM SHIPPING ON OR NEAR JUNE 13 2025
If your order contains a pre-order item, it will not ship until all items are available.
Release dates may change. Check the product page for updates.
Tracking information will be provided once your order ships.
Remastered by Reuben Cohen at Lurssen Mastering and overseen by Executive Producer Greg Fidelman.
Metallica – Load (1996) – Album Review
When Metallica dropped Load in 1996, it didn’t just mark a stylistic shift—it detonated a cultural landmine among their fanbase. Gone were the thrash anthems, machine-gun riffs, and bullet belts. In their place came greasy Southern rock swagger, alternative metal textures, and introspective lyricism. The hair was cut, the tempos slowed, and the firestorm of debate has never fully settled.
Load is not a bad album. In fact, it’s a bold, often brilliant work from a band willing to burn their own mythology to the ground. But it is a different Metallica—a rawer, groovier, more human one.
Opening with “Ain’t My Bitch,” the band sets the tone: tuned-down guitars, bluesy licks, and a defiant, almost Southern snarl. It’s a middle finger to expectations, and it sets the stage for an album soaked in grime, sweat, and uncertainty. Songs like “2 X 4” and “Cure” grind rather than gallop, their sludgy riffs more Sabbath than Slayer.
“Until It Sleeps” is the album’s emotional center—melancholic, melodic, and layered with Hetfield’s wounded introspection. It’s one of the finest vocal performances of his career, peeling back the leather armor to reveal vulnerability without losing menace. Likewise, “Bleeding Me” and “The Outlaw Torn” are long-form epics, simmering with tension and spiritual decay. They don’t sprint. They smolder.
But Load isn’t just gloom and brood. “King Nothing” slams like a spiritual cousin to “Enter Sandman,” while “Hero of the Day” experiments with dynamics and clean tones, showing a band interested in texture as much as torque. Even the divisive “Mama Said,” a country-tinged ballad, has merit as a brave departure into acoustic territory.
Still, the album isn’t perfect. At 78 minutes, it’s bloated—several tracks (“Poor Twisted Me,” “Ronnie”) feel like B-sides stretched to album length. And for fans craving the ferocity of Ride the Lightning or …And Justice for All, the slick, bluesy sheen of Load can feel like betrayal.
But in hindsight, Load isn’t a stumble—it’s a transformation. Metallica didn’t sell out. They evolved, painfully and publicly. They embraced discomfort, and this record is the sound of a band wrestling with their identity in real-time. That’s not weakness. That’s art.
Verdict:
Load is Metallica’s great reinvention—flawed, fearless, and still misunderstood. It may not thrash, but it bleeds. And in its own strange, sweaty, Southern-fried way, it rocks hard.
Rating: 8/10
BY RUE MORGUE RECORDS
