I needed a good excuse to post one of the photos I took during the concert by Metallica in Madrid as part of their M72 2024 tour, so I had to write a whole article.
There are at least a thousand things I could say but the one word that kept ringing in my ears when my son and I were traveling on the metro train to the Metropolitano Stadium was ‘sub-culture’. Earlier that day, whether we would be strolling along the majestic streets of Madrid, sipping a special Negroni or an iced Sangria the way only the Spaniards seem to know how to make them, or flicking through the rows of clothes at the Zara megastores, we would spot people – of all ages – already wearing their Metallica T-shirts in preparation for the concert later that night. It became sort of a game – Spot the Shirt – and wondering whether they were planning to at least have a quick shower before putting the T-shirt back on for the evening.
I can’t say I am an official member of the Metallica fan club right now. The real reason why I had jumped on the idea to get tickets for one of the most memorable concerts of the year was because my son urged me to. When I posted on Facebook that although this wasn’t on my bucket list, here I was, overjoyed, one of my friends (who probably remembers me at the ‘heavy metal corner of the canteen’ in our sixth form days) objected loudly! How could I not have this on my bucket list? On the other hand, another friend, whom I got to know only recently, was relatively surprised to learn I have these fancies. None of the two know that my true love (in the category of hard rock and heavy metal) was and remains Iron Maiden and that as a 17-year-old I used the famous Blu Tack to affix a poster of Eddie on the inside of my wardrobe right where a full-length mirror should be.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, and find me squeezed between bodies on a subway train heading to the stadium. Some people had hair styles and jewelry and nail polish to match the dark look, some people chatted excitedly (mostly in Spanish) with their group, others scrolled for updates on the latest breaking news in the political world (I’m making that up), but nearly all had their Metallica T-shirt. Except us of course, which is why, minutes later, I find myself, categorically reluctantly, squashed even more tightly in a mass – not a line – queuing up to buy a T-shirt from the only official fan shop.
What happens in a Metallica concert is something that language has not yet evolved to help you understand. You need to live the experience, so that your body senses it and your mind etches it in memory for ever. Pure joy. I can only say that my friend was right – I should have had a Metallica concert on my bucket list. The anticipation and the atmosphere; the participation, the pleasure and the perfection, are hard to describe. It comes from talent, but also experience. At one point, lead vocalist and guitarist James Hetfield said that they were lucky to be doing what they love doing for over 40 years now. It explains why some people travel across Europe and the US to attend many concerts of a particular tour (and post on Instagram to prove it). Which is why, standing for the whole two hours even if we had paid for a seat, the word that buzzed in my ears was ‘community’. Maybe I was influenced by Hetfield’s statement: ‘When you come to a Metallica concert, you become part of the Metallica family. And when you become part of the Metallica family, you never leave’.
If that is not the definition of loyalty, give me an alternative. A loyalty to the brand, that turns normal people into devout followers. Those people, probably close to around 70,000 of them in the stadium (and I’m talking only about one concert out of two in Madrid, and out of many in the M72 tour), can be described by three common characteristics. Firstly, they had all done something outside the norm – spent a bit more than their usual share of weekend money, travelled outside their usual radius, endured at least a bit of discomfort, etc. Secondly, they behaved according to the norms of the place and the event, solemnly disposing of the plastic caps of bottled water at the entrance, and obediently participating in the concert wave, round after round. Their behaviour was attuned to a crowd normality that is, to say the least, fascinating to observe. Thirdly, and this is pure speculation, but probably something of an extrapolation of my own feelings, the people were living the moment – willing to leave their worries behind and agreeing to join in the collective experience of mass joy.
My articles usually have a satisfying conclusion that brings together different thoughts in a unified solution. This one is a happy exception. Over the past couple of weeks, I let community, crowd behaviour, and cultural loyalty brew unhurriedly in my head, expecting them to produce a special concept, just like the making of a new craft beer.
Luckily, that was not the point. Instead of a bright idea, the one tangible I can show off in my full-length bedroom mirror is my own (white-rather-than-black) Metallica T-shirt. And that, to me, says family.
