Kirk Hammett: Some Kind of Monster Fan

Kirk Hammett: Some kind of monster fan: Aidin Vaziri | “Where does it come from? That energy?” Kirk Hammett shakes his head. His sons Angel, 5, and Vincenzo, 4, are tearing a path through his impeccable, shoe-free home in San Francisco’s quiet Sea Cliff neighborhood, making an unholy racket as they head out for noodles with their nanny on nearby Clement Street. As the front door slams shut, a coy smirk breaks over Hammett’s face. Metallica’s 49-year-old lead guitarist is a family man these days, but that doesn’t mean he is living the quiet life. Hammett wears a black T-shirt, black jeans and black socks covered with skulls, with strands of gray poking through his goatee and shoulder-length curls. We sit in his well-appointed living room overlooking the Pacific out of floor-to-ceiling windows, while the din of construction at the house next door mixes with the soothing sounds of the crashing waves below. Less than 2 miles away, Metallica recently headlined the second day of the Outside Lands Festival in Golden Gate Park. “I was telling my friends that I was going to ride my bike there,” Hammett says. “Then I realized it’s probably not a good idea.”
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