Metallica Awakened the Old Gods with a Ferocious “Creeping Death” in Tampa 2025
Metallica’s entrance began with Ennio Morricone’s “Ecstasy of Gold” blasting across Raymond James Stadium—an unmistakable ritual before the band strode onto their circular, snake-pit stage. The anticipation was electric, a current felt in every corner as fans braced for what was to come.
The first brutal riff of “Creeping Death” struck like lightning. From the first percussive down-picks, the night’s heavy intent was spelled out loud and clear. The song, a centerpiece of their 1984 Ride the Lightning album, charged through the humid air of Tampa with ferocious energy.
In that moment, over 70,000 fans surged forward. Arms raised, voices joined Hetfield’s war cry, and the pit became a living organism—thrumming with shared intensity. It was as if the band and crowd had merged into a single, unstoppable force.
Lars Ulrich’s drums pounded with machine-like precision. His snare and double-kick patterns created a rhythmic foundation so tight fans could feel the song pulsing through their own veins. At over 60 years old, he still channeled the same primal fire he’s had since 1981.
Robert Trujillo stood firm at bass, headbanging with feral intensity. As Cliff Burton’s musical heir, he anchored the song’s thunderous low end. His presence was magnetic—proof that the bass in Metallica wasn’t just heard, it was felt in the gut.
Kirk Hammett unleashed his signature lead—the solo soared above the roar, melodic yet shredding, breathing life into every fret. His guitar screamed through the night, reminding everyone why “Creeping Death” still ignites moshpits and hearts decades later.
Newer tracks had already warmed the crowd, but it was this walkout song that unified generations. Fans who grew up with tapes from the ’80s and new listeners from the streaming era sang the verses verbatim. The entire stadium felt like one vast choir.
They played it in the middle of their no-repeat setlist—after the emotional sway of “Nothing Else Matters,” but before the final surge of “Blackened,” “Seek & Destroy,” and “Master of Puppets.” The timing made it a pivotal moment: a reset, a reconnection, a shared exhale.
The circular stage meant immersion. Fans filled the snake pit from all angles, closing the distance between audience and band. It made the experience more intimate, even in a stadium that could hold tens of thousands.
Tampa crowds responded with familiar devotion. Many had waited 15 years for Metallica’s return—and the band showed its gratitude. James Hetfield paused between songs to say heartfelt thanks, acknowledging the loyalty of his Florida fanbase.
The song’s biblical themes—plagues, liberation, defiance—took on new resonance live. In 2025, it wasn’t just a classic; it was a statement. The chant “Die! By my hand!” became a collective thunderclap, echoing across the steel and concrete of the stadium.
Video clips from the snake pit show hands raised, bodies in motion, faces alight with unfiltered devotion. It captured a moment of communal release—a ritual dance of metal’s raw catharsis.
Reddit posts reflected the scene. One fan wrote that their section “got the chills” during the opening riff, while another noted how the snake-pit camaraderie felt “like family,” a blend of nostalgia and electric newness.
Behind the scenes, crew members watched with muffled pride. The M72 tour design—including the central snake pit—had paid off. It brought intimacy to stadium shows and made moments like “Creeping Death” feel uniquely powerful.
As “Creeping Death” tapered, the band didn’t wait—right into “Harvester of Sorrow” and onward. The flow was cinematic: build, release, breathe, surge. It showed they still understand pacing, even after 40+ years. Metallica didn’t just walk out—they conquered, and Tampa roared back like they always do.
