METALLICA JUST MADE HISTORY

METALLICA JUST MADE HISTORY. At the final Black Sabbath show—the last roar of the gods of metal—Metallica tore through six blistering tracks at Birmingham’s Villa Park like it was their last night on Earth. This wasn’t just a tribute, it was a war cry to the legends who started it all. Ripping through Sabbath deep cuts and throwing in fan-favorite originals, they lit the stage on fire for Back to the Beginning, a night carved into rock ‘n’ roll eternity. For every headbanger raised on riffs and rebellion, this was more than a concert—it was a soul-shaking reminder of why we fell in love with metal in the first place.

When the lights first dimmed at Villa Park, no one knew exactly what Metallica had in store. Whispers had rippled through the crowd for weeks—would they come out swinging with just their own catalog, or would they pay homage to Sabbath in their own crushing style? From the first crash of Lars Ulrich’s drums, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a typical set.

Opening with a thunderous cover of Sabbath’s Symptom of the Universe, Metallica grabbed the audience by the throat. James Hetfield’s growl rolled through the stadium like a storm, and Kirk Hammett’s guitar cut through the night air with a fury that would’ve made Tony Iommi himself nod in approval. It was metal paying respect to metal, raw and unapologetic.

But Metallica didn’t just stick to the classics. Midway through, they launched into Master of Puppets and Seek & Destroy, sending the sea of fans into a frenzy. Flames shot skyward, the pit boiled, and thousands of voices screamed every word. It was a beautiful chaos—proof that while Sabbath lit the first spark, Metallica has kept the inferno burning for generations.

Perhaps the most jaw-dropping moment came when Metallica surprised everyone with a haunting rendition of Sabbra Cadabra, blending it seamlessly into For Whom the Bell Tolls. The mash-up wasn’t just clever—it was a bridge across eras, a nod to the past while stomping full force into the future. For a few glorious minutes, time stopped at Villa Park.

Fans lucky enough to score tickets to Back to the Beginning will be telling their grandkids about this night. For older metalheads who grew up spinning Sabbath records under the covers, it was a powerful goodbye. For the younger ones, it was a baptism by fire—a lesson in where this music came from and where it’s still heading.

What made it even more special was seeing members of Black Sabbath themselves nodding along backstage. Ozzy Osbourne, ever the Prince of Darkness, raised his cane in salute as Hetfield barked the final lines of War Pigs. The respect was mutual, the legacy undeniable. One generation bowing gracefully to another, while passing on the torch.

The energy never dipped. Even after an hour of relentless riffing, Metallica seemed to feed off the crowd’s rabid energy. Robert Trujillo’s bass rumbled like thunder during Orion, a fitting tribute to the late Cliff Burton and a reminder that legends never truly die—they just echo through every power chord.

When the final notes faded, sweat and smiles mixed with tears in the crowd. Pyro cannons belched fire into the summer night, while the band stood arm in arm, taking it all in. No one wanted to leave. No one wanted it to end. But in the world of heavy metal, endings are just invitations for new beginnings.

Metallica’s set at the final Black Sabbath show will go down as one of those rare nights where history wasn’t just remembered—it was made. It proved that metal, at its best, is more than a genre. It’s a brotherhood, a family, a defiant shout that refuses to be silenced.

From Birmingham to every bedroom wall covered in blacklight posters, the ripples of this night will spread for years to come. Young bands will form because of it. Old fans will dust off vinyl and blast it louder than ever. And somewhere, a kid will pick up a guitar for the first time and dream of shaking the world just like Metallica did.

So here’s to Sabbath for starting it all. And here’s to Metallica for making sure it never ends. If you ever doubt the power of music to unite, to ignite, to roar against the dying of the light—just remember Villa Park. Remember the riffs, the sweat, the fire. Metal never dies. And neither do the legends who keep it alive.