Philadelphia Freedom

The guys at the press meeting before the show

The crowd eagerly awaits the show's kick-off

PHILADELPHIA FREEDOM

The Liberty Bell tolls for free at Metallica's outdoor show

Long before every Marilyn Manson concert in a farmhouse, henhouse, doghouse and outhouse necessitated an emergency caucus, Metallica were considered "the" demon seed by card-carrying members of the PMRC. Funny how a little thing like the metal quartet's decision to play a free concert in the City of Brotherly Love brought back that outdated intolerance.

After granting Metallica permission to perform in the parking lot of Philadelphia's CoreStates Center, city officials rescinded their offer for fear of a riot. A U.S. district judge made an eleventh hour decision to let Metallica play on, provided the band picked up the tab for clean-up, rent and insurance expenses. "Why us? What did we do?" Lars Ulrich asked rhetorically at a press conference before Tuesday's show. "We just want to make people happy." Although the diminutive drummer spoke sincerely, neither he nor the other bandmembers minded all the free publicity the legal squabble generated just a week before the release of Metallica's seventh album, "Re-Load." After all, isn't that what the show meant to do in the first place?

Perhaps hoping riot fears were well-founded, three helicopters and a blimp hovered overhead, as camera crews shot news footage of Metallica and the estimated 40,000 fans that turned out to watch them deliver a 90-minute set of predominantly old and obscure material. "We're just here to jam, right?" said frontman James Hetfield prior to launching into the Diamond Head cover "Helpless."

Anyone hoping to hear staples like "Enter Sandman," "Creeping Death" or "One" was out of luck. Testing even the most devout fan's memory, Metallica thrashed through rarely performed oldies like "The Four Horsemen," "The Wait" and the chunky crawl "The Thing That Should Not Be." Also unusual was the absence of the band's standard deafening sound system, Fourth of July pyrotechnics and dangerous pratfalls. Still, the group survived on its fans' allegiance. While some raised their fists in the air and chanted along to the band's magnum opus, "Master of Puppets," others turned their attention to the scads of female mall rats who paraded around topless on their boyfriends' shoulders -- now "that's" love -- to the delight of horny onlookers.

Other than charging through two new songs -- the single "The Memory Remains" and the gear-shifting fireball "Fuel" -- Metallica did nothing on stage to plug their new album. Calls for "For Whom the Bell Tolls" were ignored -- at the press conference, guitarist Kirk Hammett jokingly suggested the group would play "For Whom the Liberty Bell Tolls." Instead, they unloaded the explosive "No Remorse," their Grammy Award-winning cover of Queen's "Stone Cold Crazy" and the bluesy metal groove of "King Nothing."

In the end, the only carnage the CoreStates Complex suffered was in Metallica's lyrics. Intentionally or not, Metallica flipped a farewell finger to political paper-shufflers who tried to prevent the show during their finale, "Damage, Inc."



The guys at the press meeting before the show	The crowd eagerly awaits the show's kick-off
*PHILADELPHIA FREEDOM* The Liberty Bell tolls for free at Metallica's outdoor show Long before every Marilyn Manson concert in a farmhouse, henhouse, doghouse and outhouse necessitated an emergency caucus, Metallica were considered "the" demon seed by card-carrying members of the PMRC. Funny how a little thing like the metal quartet's decision to play a free concert in the City of Brotherly Love brought back that outdated intolerance. After granting Metallica permission to perform in the parking lot of Philadelphia's CoreStates Center, city officials rescinded their offer for fear of a riot. A U.S. district judge made an eleventh hour decision to let Metallica play on, provided the band picked up the tab for clean-up, rent and insurance expenses. "Why us? What did we do?" Lars Ulrich asked rhetorically at a press conference before Tuesday's show. "We just want to make people happy." Although the diminutive drummer spoke sincerely, neither he nor the other bandmembers minded all the free publicity the legal squabble generated just a week before the release of Metallica's seventh album, "Re-Load." After all, isn't that what the show meant to do in the first place? Perhaps hoping riot fears were well-founded, three helicopters and a blimp hovered overhead, as camera crews shot news footage of Metallica and the estimated 40,000 fans that turned out to watch them deliver a 90-minute set of predominantly old and obscure material. "We're just here to jam, right?" said frontman James Hetfield prior to launching into the Diamond Head cover "Helpless." Anyone hoping to hear staples like "Enter Sandman," "Creeping Death" or "One" was out of luck. Testing even the most devout fan's memory, Metallica thrashed through rarely performed oldies like "The Four Horsemen," "The Wait" and the chunky crawl "The Thing That Should Not Be." Also unusual was the absence of the band's standard deafening sound system, Fourth of July pyrotechnics and dangerous pratfalls. Still, the group survived on its fans' allegiance. While some raised their fists in the air and chanted along to the band's magnum opus, "Master of Puppets," others turned their attention to the scads of female mall rats who paraded around topless on their boyfriends' shoulders -- now "that's" love -- to the delight of horny onlookers. Other than charging through two new songs -- the single "The Memory Remains" and the gear-shifting fireball "Fuel" -- Metallica did nothing on stage to plug their new album. Calls for "For Whom the Bell Tolls" were ignored -- at the press conference, guitarist Kirk Hammett jokingly suggested the group would play "For Whom the Liberty Bell Tolls." Instead, they unloaded the explosive "No Remorse," their Grammy Award-winning cover of Queen's "Stone Cold Crazy" and the bluesy metal groove of "King Nothing." In the end, the only carnage the CoreStates Complex suffered was in Metallica's lyrics. Intentionally or not, Metallica flipped a farewell finger to political paper-shufflers who tried to prevent the show during their finale, "Damage, Inc."