Released on November 18, 1997, Reload has spent most of its life standing in the shadow of its older sibling, Load. For some fans, it was the moment Metallica drifted too far from the thrash roots that made them legends.
For others, it’s a misunderstood chapter — one where the band stretched, experimented, and let themselves breathe a little without worrying about speed limits or genre boundaries. Looking back now, decades later, Reload feels less like an outlier and more like the second half of an era the band committed to fully, even if the world wasn’t entirely ready to follow.
Where Load introduced the sleeker, bluesier, hard-rocking incarnation of Metallica, Reload doubled down on it — dirtier around the edges, warmer in attitude, and occasionally more unhinged. There’s a looseness here that’s hard not to appreciate once you stop expecting Master of Puppets II. It’s swaggering, smoky, sometimes messy, and sometimes brilliant. And honestly? That makes it interesting in a way Metallica rarely gets credit for during this period.
Opening the Gasoline-Soaked Gates
Reload ignites with “Fuel,” a song so shamelessly over-the-top it practically stumbles into the room with its arms wide open. The “Gimme fuel, gimme fire” intro has become a meme at this point, but hearing it in context again, there’s something undeniably infectious about the track’s energy. It’s Metallica at their most gasoline-drunk, embracing groove and adrenaline instead of sheer velocity. It’s not subtle — it wasn’t designed to be — but it sets the tone for an album that wants to move rather than pulverize.
“The Memory Remains” follows, built on one of Hetfield’s sharpest riffs of the era. Marianne Faithfull’s ghostly cameo still feels surreal, almost unsettling, her cracked voice hanging over the chorus like smoke from an old bar where time forgot to move forward. It’s one of the band’s most unique songs, and for all the debates around this album, few can deny how strange and memorable that hook is.
“Devil’s Dance” slows the pace into a brooding churn — thick riffs, slithering bass, Hetfield in full sinister-cowboy mode. It’s one of the album’s darker gems, and even listeners who weren’t sold on Metallica’s stylistic shift often cite this track as a highlight.
Walking Between Two Worlds
The heart of Reload is where the divides become more interesting. “The Unforgiven II” takes a risk by revisiting one of Metallica’s most beloved songs, not to repeat it, but to reinterpret it. It’s more melodic, more open, and it plays like memory rather than sequel — familiar but altered by age and experience. Some fans rejected it outright, but over time, it’s gained a quiet respect for its emotional clarity.
“Better Than You” and “Slither” don’t get talked about much (even though "Better" earned a Grammy Award in 1998), but they showcase the band’s willingness to sit inside a groove for longer stretches. These songs have heat — a slow fire instead of a bonfire — and that patience is part of what makes this era so distinct. Not every idea lands perfectly, but at least the band is trying to build something different rather than reforge old weapons.
Then you hit “Carpe Diem Baby,” a track that feels like a half-swaggering anthem, half desert-rock fever dream. Hetfield’s vocals are loose, almost smoky, while the guitars crawl along with a heatstroke kind of intensity. It’s the sort of song that gets better with age — not because it becomes more Metallica, but because you stop expecting it to.
The Molten Middle: Rough Edges, Real Emotion
The later portion of Reload is where its heart really lives — in the weird, tender, and occasionally raw spaces Metallica rarely explored before or after.
“Where the Wild Things Are,” for instance, is one of Newsted’s few writing credits and one of the album’s strangest creations. It’s dreamlike, eerie, somewhere between lullaby and nightmare. It’s not a typical Metallica track, which is exactly why it stands out.
“Prince Charming” snaps the album back toward aggression, but not in the thrash sense. It’s swaggering, bratty, almost playful in its attack — not angry so much as rowdy. The main riff is pure, dirty fun.
“Low Man’s Lyric” is the emotional backbone of Reload, and maybe the entire Load/Reload period. The use of hurdy-gurdy, the somber pacing, Hetfield’s cracked and weary delivery — it’s vulnerable in a way Metallica never really allowed themselves to be prior. Whether you love or hate the song, it’s hard to deny how genuine it feels.
“Fixxxer,” the closer, has become one of the cult favorites among dedicated fans — a slow-burning, hypnotic, richly layered track that unfolds like a monologue whispered to the ceiling during a long night. The atmosphere is thick, the drumming patient, the guitars weaving in and out like fading memories. Ending the album this way was a bold move, but a fitting one.
A Band Unafraid to Step Into the Fire
What makes Reload compelling — even divisive — is that Metallica wasn’t hiding. They knew exactly what they were doing. They weren’t trying to rewrite thrash history. They weren’t chasing trends either. They were exploring, experimenting, reshaping themselves, and doing so under the incredibly bright spotlight they had earned.
The album’s warmth, its looseness, its imperfections — these are all features, not flaws. This is Metallica trying on different skins, taking risks, and pushing the boundaries of what “Metallica” was allowed to sound like. And honestly? The courage in that deserves respect, even if not every song nails the landing.
Legacy of a Divisive Flame
Reload will probably always be one of Metallica’s most polarizing records, but time has been strangely kind to it. Younger fans discovering it without the burden of 1990s expectations often find more to love than the generation who lived through the shift. Tracks like “Fuel,” “The Memory Remains,” “Devil’s Dance,” “Low Man’s Lyric,” and “Fixxxer” have only grown stronger, while the deep cuts offer an unexpectedly rich snapshot of a band refusing to fossilize.
It may not be Metallica at their most ferocious, but it is Metallica at their most human — searching, experimenting, and unapologetically walking through a door many fans wished they’d leave closed.
Final Verdict: 8 / 10
Reload isn’t the album that made Metallica legends — it’s the album that showed they weren’t afraid to evolve, even when evolution meant backlash. It’s warm, gritty, swaggering, emotional, and occasionally brilliant. Imperfect? Absolutely. But alive in a way few records of the era still are.
Three decades later, the fire still burns — quietly, stubbornly, and with a heat that refuses to fade.
