REFLECTIONS OF METALLICA

“Oh, sorry,” a strangely accented voice mumbles into the phone. “An interview, right. I was just, er, sleeping. Well, uh, you could come up to this room I guess.” The phone goes silent a minute. “Hey,” drummer and band spokesman Lars Ulrich hollers, “where the fuck are we?”

Metallica, it transpires, are camped out between shows on a rare day off in New York City. But even in trendy Manhattan, some rock ’n’ roll traditions survive—the band is waking up to The Dating Game in the big city’s only Holiday Inn, while their tour bus is sitting outside in front of four expired traffic meters. Lars and guitarist-singer James Hetfield look comfortably comatose as they review the rigors of the road. “Oh, we’re up every morning at nine exercising,” Lars deadpans. “You know, taking the vodka bottle from the table to the mouth. No, really, we need as much sleep as possible. It’s not like we just stand there on stage. So we usually just get up before soundcheck and wake up playing.”