Metallica’s Record-Shattering “Battery” Roars Through Tampa’s 100K-Strong Crowd

Under the scorching Florida sun on June 8, 2025, Metallica stormed into Tampa’s Raymond James Stadium for night two of their “no-repeat weekend.” The energy was palpable—70,000 fans roared as stadium lights dimmed and the electrifying strains of AC/DC’s “It’s a Long Way to the Top” blasted over the speakers. The band’s tradition of using this anthem as a prelude still sends chills, no matter how many times you’ve seen them.

Right on cue, the iconic “Ecstasy of Gold” intro from Ennio Morricone set the mood before James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Kirk Hammett, and Robert Trujillo hit the stage with “Whiplash.” Opening with this high-octane thrash classic was a nod to Metallica’s earliest days. It brought a raw, gritty momentum that instantly snapped the crowd into a collective frenzy, recalling the chaos of their early club shows in the ’80s.

Flinty riffs from “For Whom the Bell Tolls” and “Ride the Lightning” followed, each paying homage to the band’s formative mid-’80s era. Hetfield’s growling vocals cut through the humid air like a chainsaw. It was more than just nostalgia—it was a reminder of the era when Metallica redefined what heavy metal could sound like, with every riff sparking visceral memories for lifelong fans.

The crowd was wide awake when they ripped into “The Memory Remains,” showcasing how the band has evolved past 1991 while still maintaining a massive, explosive sound. The haunting chant that closes the song echoed across the stadium as tens of thousands of voices joined in. Marianne Faithfull’s ghostly vocal line, though not live, still cast a spell over the crowd.

Fast forward to two of their freshest tracks, “Lux Æterna” and “Screaming Suicide” from the 2023 album 72 Seasons. These modern thrash monsters drumrolled their way into the setlist with aggressive precision, proving Metallica’s new material isn’t just filler—it’s a vital continuation of their legacy, equal in weight to their best-known classics.

In a fun break from the norm, Kirk Hammett and Robert Trujillo zipped into a “Kirk and Rob Doodle” mini-jam—a mashup of Death’s “Phantom Lord” and “Pull the Plug.” It was raw, unrehearsed, and brimming with personality. Fans relished the spontaneity, a rare glimpse into the playful chemistry that has fueled Metallica’s staying power across decades.

Mid-set, “Welcome Home (Sanitarium)” and “Wherever I May Roam” brought a change in tempo but no drop in intensity. These songs, both built on hypnotic grooves and complex arrangements, added emotional weight. Trujillo’s bass roared like a freight train, while Hammett’s solos drifted between haunting and heroic, giving the audience room to breathe—before the next sonic assault.

Then came the instrumental epic “The Call of Ktulu.” The stadium went quiet as layers of guitar and bass slowly unraveled into a cinematic thunderstorm. This track, co-written with the late Cliff Burton, was more than just a performance—it was a séance. The band played not only for the crowd but for the memory of their fallen brother, honoring the atmospheric brilliance he brought to their early sound.

No Patriot’s Day in Tampa would be complete without “The Unforgiven,” a soul-bearing mid-tempo anthem that resonated with its unforgettable chorus. Hetfield’s delivery was raw and introspective, transforming the stadium into a shared confessional. It’s a song that bridges generations of fans, a ballad dressed in metal’s armor.

When “Whiskey in the Jar” exploded from the stage, it brought a jolt of joyous chaos. The Irish folk cover-turned-metal romp energized the stadium in unexpected ways. Metallica first recorded it in 1998, but live, it feels like an ageless party anthem. Hetfield’s grin during the intro said it all—this one was just for fun, and the fans knew it.

Then came the war cry: “Battery.” The opening acoustic flourish gave way to a riff that hit like a freight train. Even with a minor technical glitch on Ulrich’s kick drum, the band powered through with relentless force. The track, a pillar of Master of Puppets, still feels urgent and defiant nearly four decades after its release.

As the sun finally gave way to darkness, they launched into “Moth Into Flame” and then “One.” The former is a modern classic that critiques fame’s illusion, while the latter remains one of the most powerful anti-war statements in rock history. The staccato gunfire drumming and somber melodies of “One” gripped the audience in a moment of absolute intensity.

The grand finale saw “Enter Sandman” erupting over the stage like a volcanic blast. It was the loudest singalong of the night, with Hetfield pointing his mic toward the crowd to let them roar back every word. Smoke, lights, and pyro framed the scene, transforming the stadium into a cathedral of chaos and celebration.

The evening ended without an encore—a bold move, but fitting for the “no-repeat weekend” concept. It challenged fans to savor each track as a once-in-a-lifetime offering. Every note counted, every moment stood on its own. The absence of repetition made the night feel more sacred, more singular.

From vintage thrash to modern anthems, Metallica’s June 8 performance in Tampa was a towering achievement. They didn’t just play songs—they built a narrative, a living history of metal performed in real time. The show wasn’t just another tour stop—it was an experience, etched into the hearts of every fan lucky enough to be there.