Metallica
– 72 Seasons
There’s a peculiar thrill in watching aging titans swing for the fences. 72 Seasons isn’t Metallica reinventing anything, but it is them stretching out, shaking the rust, and giving you 77 minutes of teeth-baring, riff-chugging, drum-throttling thrash that sounds surprisingly energized for a band four decades deep. James Hetfield’s growl hasn’t lost its bite, and Lars—yes, Lars—pounds like he’s still got something to prove. The production’s huge. The songs are long. And the mood? Bleak, but not hopeless.
This is Metallica as elder statesmen trying to reconnect with the fire they lit back in the Kill ’Em All garage. Some of it works better than others. There’s bloat—lots of it—but the sheer consistency of riffage is impressive. Kirk Hammett, forever underrated and over-critiqued, tosses off solos that are more feel than fretboard acrobatics, and that works in this setting. These aren’t math-metal exercises. They’re stompers. They’re headbangers. They want you to feel the weight, not admire the structure.
What makes 72 Seasons stand out is its refusal to coast. There’s real grappling here—with aging, with legacy, with trauma. Hetfield’s lyrics are rawer than they’ve been in years. There’s reflection, but no self-pity. The songs are too loud for that. Instead, you get a band still pushing forward, still breaking stuff, still occasionally stumbling—but stumbling loudly, proudly, with amps cranked and fists up.
Choice Tracks
72 Seasons
The opener comes out swinging. It’s a seven-minute mission statement: galloping riffs, soaring solos, Hetfield digging into childhood scars like they still bleed. There’s urgency in the tempo and anger in the delivery—Metallica as therapists with distortion pedals.
Shadows Follow
Classic mid-tempo stomp, built for fist-pumping and grimacing in unison. The chorus has that sneering, catchy Hetfield hook that creeps into your skull and refuses to leave. Feels like it could’ve lived on Load but got tougher over the years.
If Darkness Had a Son
The riff crawls, then stomps. Hetfield chants like he’s invoking something unholy. It’s heavy in that brooding, slow-burn way Metallica’s been leaning into since Sad But True, but this one’s sharper. Meaner.
Too Far Gone?
One of the most melodic cuts here, almost punky in its pacing. Hetfield sounds haunted, but the chorus lifts off just enough to make it singable. Sneaky contender for best deep cut.
Lux Æterna
The fast one. Old-school thrash, trimmed down to just over three minutes, and it rips. Feels like they remembered Kill ’Em All existed and decided to make it scream one more time. No frills, just fire.
72 Seasons is long, loud, and heavier than it needed to be—and that’s kind of the point. Metallica aren’t coasting. They’re still fighting demons, and lucky for us, they brought guitars.