Let me tell you somethin’, kid—the devil don’t wear black anymore. He’s sweatin’ bourbon in a leather vest, strutting down a neon-soaked boulevard of busted amps and barroom prophets. And Load—yes, fucking Load—was his soundtrack all along. Twenty-eight years on, and Metallica’s most polarizing detour finally gets the decadent, whisky-aged, barbed-wire-and-mascara box set it always deserved.
🧨THE DELUXE BOXSET: WHAT YOU GET
Picture this: a greasy lunchbox from the bad part of town, stuffed with relics and ruckus.
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4 LPs + 4 CDs + 1 DVD + Cassette – This ain’t just music, it’s a baptism in blues-metal apocalypse. The remastered album roars like a rusted muscle car in heat.
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The B-sides, Demos, and Rehearsals – Alternate takes that reek of bunker sweat and bourbon breath. Stripped-down jams of "Bleeding Me" and "The Outlaw Torn" show a band unshackled, oozing molten sincerity.
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Live Shows from ’96–’98 – Peak ‘hair slicked back, soul laid bare’ era. They're not thrashing—they’re testifying.
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48-page book – Photos of Hetfield lookin’ like a desert preacher. Essays from band members finally telling you: yeah, we knew you’d hate it, and we didn’t care.
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A METALLICA-branded Zippo lighter – Because of course.
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"Memory Remains" hand-cranked toy box – A cursed object. I love it.
💥THE SOUND: PRIMAL SLUDGE ROCK NOIR
Forget what you think you remember. This ain’t mall-metal or grunge-lite. Load was Metallica doing swamp blues through a gasoline-stained mirror. It's Howlin’ Wolf if he’d had a Mesa Boogie amp and a therapist. This is rock 'n roll with contusions.
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“Ain’t My Bitch” kicks it off like a biker bar brawl. Slide guitar and growls like someone sandpapered Sabbath.
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“Until It Sleeps” is Gothic gospel — Hetfield crying in the church of internal bleeding.
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“Bleeding Me” is a nine-minute descent into a man’s soul, cranked through doom-blues and psalmic sludge.
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“The Outlaw Torn” – truly one of Metallica’s greatest compositions. And now you get the full-length version restored, not butchered for CD length. It’s cinematic doom poetry.
🗣️TO THE HATERS: Y’ALL MISSED THE POINT
You wanted Master of Puppets II? Too bad. In ’96, Metallica weren’t chained to thrash—they were possessed by swamp-rock spirits, chain gang ghosts, and desert mirages. Load was about shedding armor. Hetfield said “I wanna sing, I wanna bleed, I wanna groove.” And goddamn, he did.
If Ride the Lightning was lightning-in-a-bottle fury, Load is the bottle itself: busted on a motel sink, filled with backwash, secrets, and Southern Comfort.
🖤CONCLUSION: ONE OF THE BEST ROCK ALBUMS OF THE ‘90s
No, Load doesn’t belong in metal’s box. It belongs in the pantheon of ‘90s rock & roll audacity. With Load, Metallica did what real rockers do—they followed the itch, not the algorithm. They went south, spiritual, sleazy. It’s Ziggy Stardust meets Soundgarden at a gas station in Bakersfield.
This deluxe edition boxset is a mud-caked monument to a misunderstood masterpiece. Put on your snakeskin boots. Light that Zippo. And remember: the outlaw always rides alone—but now we can ride with him, cassette hiss and all.
Buzz Drainpipe
writing this from a bathroom stall covered in scribbled lyrics to “Hero of the Day” and chili dog wrappers shaped like flames 🔥
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