The making of Metallica’s 2003 album, St. Anger, was famously chronicled in the documentary Some Kind of Monster, detailing a period of intense internal strife, therapy sessions, and a desperate search for a new sound. During this chaotic process, drummer Lars Ulrich sought validation from the most critical person in his life: his father, Torben Ulrich—a gesture that resulted in a legendary, ego-crushing critique captured forever on film.
The Setup: Seeking Approval for St. Anger
Torben Ulrich (1928–2023) was far from a typical rock-and-roll father. He was a celebrated figure in his own right—a Danish writer, a filmmaker, an accomplished professional tennis player who reached the US Open fourth round, and a notoriously tough jazz critic. He served as a cultural compass and a massive critic for his son, Lars. During the recording sessions for the controversial St. Anger album, when the band was tense and insecure about the direction of their new, raw sound, Lars invited his 74-year-old father to the studio to listen to some new material. The unspoken hope was for praise or, at least, acknowledgment.
The Judgment: The Pause and the Command
The scene, immortalized in the 2004 documentary Some Kind of Monster, is a masterpiece of awkward tension. Torben Ulrich stood over the mixing desk, listening to the deeply experimental, meandering, and uncharacteristic material the band had been creating. The entire studio froze. The camera captured Lars Ulrich’s visible anxiety as he waited for the verdict from the one man whose opinion he respected above all others. Finally, Lars broke the silence and asked what his father thought of the music. After a long, dramatic pause, Torben, with cold, utter finality, uttered only two words: “Delete that.”
The Legacy: A Cruel Statement That Shattered Egos
The brutal bluntness of the statement—the suggestion that the work should not just be shelved but erased—tore through the band’s collective egos and immediately became the most famous “harsh truth” moment in Metallica’s history. Torben’s critique, juxtaposed against the band’s internal chaos, served as a jarring wake-up call at the height of their fame, forcing them to confront the question of whether their emotional turmoil had yielded artistically worthwhile music. Despite the internal struggles and the lack of polish, St. Anger debuted at Number 1 on the Billboard 200 and topped sales charts in 14 countries, later winning a Grammy Award for Best Metal Performance for the title track in 2004. Lars Ulrich later stated that while his father’s bluntness was tough, his opinion—that the band was veering too far away from their core strengths—was respected and helped them re-evaluate their direction for future albums. The famous two-word command became a cultural touchstone for fans, symbolizing the painful honesty required for a band to survive and grow when faced with their most difficult creative period.