I initially thought of the idea during my earliest days on the social media cesspool that is Instagram. It literally just popped in my head while thinking of hashtags in my earliest posts. Then after a while, I began pondering what the phrase “LIFT WITH HATRED” would look like on a shirt, or even a gym style stringer. I hope to have THAT made one day!
It then was a long, on again-off again process between not knowing my ass from my elbow with design programs and personal shit over the last few years. My favorite was when an old friend, who I’ve mentioned on here three times already and will not name in this article, volunteered his services to help me with a design based on a picture I gave him, only to vanish out of my life without warning. So, I just recently decided to stop waiting around for nothing and just went for it.
If you’re reading this, the Lift with Hatred clothing line is FINALLY available, and you can click here to see the designs I came up with. You’ll see five different variants of the Lift with Hatred slogan available in t-shirt form, along with option of buying pins, hoodies, posters, coasters and even a gym duffel bag! Get a shirt and wear it to the gym for your next Deadlift PR, or even your next concert. Get a pin and put it on your denim vest (the term battle jacket is fucking gay). Get a poster and a tape that shit on your wall over your couch. Spread the fucking word!
Also, I have started a Lift With Hatred IG account. If you buy any merch, make sure to take pictures of yourself wearing my merch, pissing on it, fucking like two dogs on the street over my shirts, setting them ablaze on a dumpster fire, etc, and tag the Lift with Hatred IG account to be featured on the page!
So, here we are. Ask yourself, “Do I have what it takes?” Do you? Do you have what it takes to be real? Are you realistic enough to know that only YOU can change yourself? Do you look in the mirror and hate what you see so much that you’ll do whatever it takes to not be a weak, fat piece of fucking shit? Do you have what it takes to take channel your anger and to give yourself the single most intense bench day you’ve ever had in the gym? Do you have what it takes to proudly be yourself and not give two shits about what anyone else thinks of you?
If you said “yes” to any of this, click here now, and show that you belong…
I knew I needed to go to this as soon as I heard that Shadows Fall, who had regrouped in 2021 after an indefinite hiatus that lasted seven years and saw drummer Jason Bittner join Flotsam and Jetsam and eventually Overkill, and lead guitar GOD Jonathan Donais join Anthrax, intended on performing their 2004 CLASSIC, The War Within in its entirety. That was fucking huge news! But for those of you who might be clueless, let’s discuss why!
The Importance of The War Within
The War Within, the band’s fourth album and third with vocalist Brian Fair, is the most important album in the band’s entire catalog. It was released on the heels of their previous album, 2002’s The Art of Balance, which went on to sell over 100,000 copies in a time when album sales were steadily declining. You bet your ass I was one of those 100,000 people who actually bought the fucking record! I even saw Shadows Fall live for the first time a year later during an Ozzfest off-date.
Having come from the New Wave of American Heavy Metal scene that was largely based in the Northeast and spawned bands such as Aftershock and Overcast – those two bands being the roots of Shadows Fall and especially Killswitch Engage – alongside All That Remains (Phil Labonte was actually the vocalist on Shadows Fall’s 1997 debut, Somber Eyes to The Sky), God Forbid (more on that band later!), Mastodon and Lamb of God, the sound was largely a mix of Hardcore breakdowns and Metallic intensity. Unfortunately, this became Metalcore. But Shadows Fall were different. Via Brain Fair’s roots in Overcast, especially after he joined Shadows Fall for their second album, 2000’s Of One Blood, the hardcore influence could be heard. But thanks to those riffs that scream Iron Maiden AND Morbid Angel, along with Jon Donais’ Randy Rhoads meets Zakk Wylde lead guitar style, they were far more Metal than Hardcore.
By the time The War Within was released, the press at large had been calling them the next Metallica for two years, thanks to The Art of Balance. With TWW, the guitars were even stronger than on the last album, the drums were harder hitting, the production was clearer, and the song writing was even stronger. The album had debuted at #28 on the Billboard charts. I was a first day buyer, taking to bus to Sam Goody right after I finished with class for the day. It’d earned them sales of almost 400,000 copies – a FIRST for Century Media Records! – their first main stage slot on the next year’s Ozzfest (the last time I saw them live), and eventually, a major label deal with Atlantic Records.
I still remember driving from Staten Island to Starland Ballroom to see Mastodon in May of 2005. I was on Rt 9, driving over the water, WSOU (more on them momentarily) on the radio, when the DJ announced that The War Within had sold 200,000 copies. The was incredible to hear; it meant a lot to the fans, I’m sure, and it meant a lot to the underground Metal scene, especially with Lamb of God releasing their major label debut nine months prior, and Mastodon very close to signing their own major label deal.
The Show
The show, I’m pretty sure was organized by WSOU, the top college station in terms of playing underground Heavy Metal for DECADES. My first exposure to WSOU in the early months of 1997 happened by mistake. I was looking for another station when I came across this one station that happened to be blasting Death Metal, the likes of which my 7th grade, dumbass self had never heard before and I’d assumed that this had to be the station. It wasn’t, but I clearly still listened up until they were forced to change their format right at the beginning of 2002. They eventually were able to revert back to their prior format; but they had to fight hard to make it happen.
It’s been my first show at Starland since I saw Zakk Sabbath in 2017. And before that, the last time I’d been there was most likely the 2008 Summer Slaughter tour, with such a shitty lineup that I totally forgot that it was the last time I saw The Black Dahlia Murder! But I spent a good three years going to shows in Starland Ballroom between 2005 and 2008.
I’m hoping that WSOU were the ones who organized this show’s lineup, because I’d hate to once again put the blame on Shadows Fall for playing with bands that sound NOTHING like them. That sadly was their biggest problem as fame was heading their way. The band might’ve been influenced by hardcore, and they might’ve been friends with the bands they played with. But what’ll make more money? Going on tour with your buddies and having no one go to the show to see you because you sound nothing like the other bands on the bill, or do you play with the bands that sound more like you and actually have people come there to see YOU? Very few bands can get away with having such a devoted following that they’ll attend a show STRICTLY to see you and then leave without watching any of the other bands. Killswitch Engage comes to mind.
I will not discuss the opening bands because as predicted, they all sucked ass. Deathcore: GAY. Hey Crazy Greg, who I was supposed to reconnect with at this show: yes, Nora sucked. The lineup preceding Shadows Fall were All in All, Nora and Fit for An Autopsy. And they all (minus Nora to some extent) sounded exactly the same. Technical brilliance on their instruments (I’ll never take that away from them) and Death Metal growls abound before the middle of the song transitions into another breakdown were the lead singer yells out in some fake Brooklyn-sounding accent some variation of: “Yo open up dis pit! Lemme see what u got Nu Jerzee!”, while bopping across the stage like a rapper, with the floor opening up for people to either mosh or pretend to be Bruce Lee. You all looked like fucking homos twenty years ago, and you all still do today.
Somewhere during this time, I spotted Brain Fair in the crowd, against a wall talking to somebody. His dreadlocks as so fucking grey these days. The last time I’d spoken to him was in Brooklyn in 2003. I went up to him to tell him that I’d been waiting to see him again and shook his hand. I then wondered if I hurt his hand because man, he has such a limp handshake!
The funniest part of the night leading to Shadows Fall going on stage was the fact that every time the ad for an IHOP that’s open 24/7 popped up on the projector screen, everyone there started to cheer. Look here for yourself! This what happens when you have a bunch of drunks who no longer are able to go down the street to the Peter Pank Diner off Rt 9 N because it’s now a fucking Wawa. Now THAT place had good food!
Just before the Shadows Fall went on stage, some chick from WSOU began to talk…before the projector screen was even elevated. That’s a little stupid, no? I also could barely hear a fucking word she was saying. She spoke so low, and the mic was under her chin. It literally sounded like I was listening to WSOU! Every DJ I’ve ever heard on that station since I discovered them in 1997 is so soft spoken and lacking in personality! My college station wasn’t anywhere near as huge as WSOU is, but we had DJ’s with PERSONALITY. Crazy Greg, Ali, the late Dr. Avi (RIP), Stevie Rich, DJ Universal (that was also his belt size!), Emilio Sparks, Bryan Ahl, myself, we all had character and we all brought something different to our shows! Compared to us, listening to DJ’s on WSOU is comparable to octogenarians fucking in a nursing home!
The band finally came on and wasted ZERO time kicking ass with “Thought Without Words” off The Art of Balance. They had so much energy. Jon and rhythm guitarist Matt Bachand circle headbanging, bassist Paul Romanko slamming his bass, Bittner in the back showing why he’s actually one of THE best drummers in Metal in the last two decades, Brian Fair fucking crowd swimming WHILE singing! You would’ve never known that collectively, they’re all closing in on 50! Who the fuck circle headbangs at nearly 50?! I had no choice but to forgive Jon Donais for wearing a Bon Jovi t-shirt. I get exactly why he wore it but…no. Just, no. After performing two more songs, they began performing The War Within.
I would have loved to have filmed the entire set; but for whatever reason, my phone’s battery was low. It barely charged while I was driving to Starland. So, I made that I was going to film anything, that it counted.
There are no words to adequately express how intense The War Within sounded live. The energy was indescribable. Everything appeared to be performed even faster than on the album. This was a band with a LOT to prove, having not released any new material since 2012. Brian did remind everyone that the band are in fact recording a new album but couldn’t offer any insight as to when anything would be released. That’s when for a deep cut, he brought out Corey Pierce of God Forbid to play drums on “Fleshold”! The significance of him being brought out? Not only did WSOU play God Forbid as much as they played Shadows Fall on their station (although they were forced to refer to them on the air as “G Forbid” since the station is housed in a catholic school), but God Forbid actually are from New Jersey. So, I’d say it made plenty of sense. And the performance fucking ruled.
Look at the setlist and you’ll see that outside of their performing TWW in its entirety, the band played tracks covering each era of their career. You’ll notice that “Fleshold” is apparently on two albums. It’s true! It was originally on Somber Eyes to the Sky and sung by Phil Labonte. That track along with “Revel in My Loss” and “To Ashes” were reworked for Of One Blood. I’m not too sure how many more shows I’ll be going to this year but for my money, and minus the shit Metalcore/Deathcore opening bands, this is the show of the year for me.
I was supposed to be finished with blogs/podcasts for the year after the most recent shit I released just two nights ago. But seeing the news post on Metal Injection’s Instagram account this morning excited me so much that before I even read the fucking story on their proper website, I went ahead and posted it on my Instagram story and wrote: “Way to go, Jeff! Congratulations, your balls and dignity are back!!!!!”
If you’ve yet to read the article or even hear the news, Guitar GOD Jeff Loomis has left Arch Enemy after nine years. That’s a lot longer than I would’ve ever imagined someone like Jeff being a part of that shitshow! Because that’s what Arch Enemy has been for well over a decade. Jeff has already been replaced by Joey Concepcion, formerly of The Absence, who I was a fan of at the time, and Sanctuary.
Is it just me, or isn’t it ironic that Jeff was replaced by the guy from Warrell Dane’s first band?
Here’s Arch Enemy’s statement:
“It’s been a joy having Jeff play with Arch Enemy for close to a decade, we truly had a blast touring around the world together! We were friends long before we played music together and we remain even closer buddies now, which feels great. We respect that he’s in a place and time in life where he needs to step out of Arch Enemy and we all wish him nothing but the best moving forward.
The only constant is change, and this is one of those moments where things had to change a little to move forward in a satisfactory way for everyone involved. With all that said, we are extremely pleased to announce that we have recruited Joey Concepcion as our new guitarist! Joey’s a phenomenal talent and has been a friend of the band for a long time, he even filled in for Jeff on a couple of European festival shows back in 2018.
We have touring and a myriad of other exciting things coming up on the horizon with Arch Enemy for 2024 and beyond and are thrilled to move forward, creating the next chapter and keeping the metal flowing!”
Jeff’s statement:
“My time in Arch Enemy has come to an end. I have had a great time (9 years!) of playing and touring with them, but now it’s time to enter a new chapter in my life. I wish Alissa, Michael, Sharlee and Daniel the very best and consider them all lifelong friends. I’d also like to thank the crew that have always been nothing but kind to me. Their hard work and dedication towards the band is incredible, and we wouldn’t be able to put on the great shows without them. Thank you again for all your support over the years and Happy New Year.”
Both of these statements sound very polished, very edited. Arch Enemy’s statement has me laughing inside a little, especially the part where they state that “this is one of those moments where things had to change a little to move forward in a satisfactory way for everyone involved“. I can only imagine this was everyone gritting their teeth as one party really wanted to exclaim, “thank fuck he’s gone so I continue writing songs in the same corny, stale formula I’ve been attached to since the late 2000’s”, while the other party is responding, “thank fuck I’m out of there, and I never have to wear those fucktarded outfits and play boring stale formulaic shit ever again!”. 
I wonder which party is which here!
If you’re reading this and somehow haven’t the faintest idea of who the fuck Jeff Loomis is outside of Bland Enemy, the Dad Rock of Metal bands (I said it!), go on Spotify, or YouTube, or Apple Music, or raid your older brother’s CD collection, and just listen to the entire Nevermore catalogue. To say that Jeff Loomis is a PHENOM would be a GROSS understatement. He has it all: his own signature playing style, his own signature sound, attitude, his own distinct songwriting style. Jeff Loomis is literally the total package. It’s easy to see upon listening to Nevermore or either of his two solo albums, 2008’s Zero Order Phase, or 2012’s Plains of Oblivion (I can almost hear Warrell Dane howling that out in my head, or even snarling it in his sinister speaking voice!) why people have commented that Jeff is comparable to an underground Dimebag Darrell. He has ALL the tools, much like Dime had, only he never met his true potential and made it to the top of the heap as Dime had just a few years before Nevermore even released their 1995 self-titled debut.
On the other side of the coin, we have the Michael Amott-led Arch Enemy. Michael also has his own signature playing style along with his own distinct songwriting style. That style was initially introduced to Carcass when he joined the band in the early 90’s, as it dictated a change in the band’s Grindcore sound into something a little different on 1991’s Necroticism – Descanting The Insalubrious. That sound was further leaned on with Carcass’s landmark 1994 album, Heartwork, which is essentially the birth of what we know today as Melodic Death Metal. There were more guitar solos, and the riffs sounded far more like Iron Maiden due to an increase in harmonized riffs than ANYTHING before 1991.
Michael took a chance and left Carcass to start Arch Enemy, which would be used to further expand on this style that Michael brought to Carcass, which in retrospect did to Carcass what Michael McDonald did to The Doobie Brothers. After two albums they hit gold when, in 2000, Arch Enemy brought in German hottie Angela Gossow on lead vocals. I first read about her as well as Arch Enemy in Terrorizer Magazine upon the release of their landmark 2001 album, Wages of Sin. She was hot. But then I heard her growl. Then I just seriously was concurrently horny and feared that, if I made her cum she’d breathe fire or some shit.
Wages was groundbreaking for its time. The riffs were equally as catchy as they were heavy, the choruses were anthems in themselves, and the contrasting lead guitar styles of Michael’s wah pedal-drenched Michael Schenker-esque technique and his brother Christopher’s far more shredder-like style put Arch Enemy in a class of its own in the Heavy Metal Underground. But that was 2002.
As time went on, Arch Enemy’s sound turned into a blatant formula, one which staled out at a steady pace. And THAT’S where the problems come in for Jeff Loomis. 
Jeff may have his own playing style that differs from the sound of Arch Enemy; but Jeff’s style is far more dynamic, intense, and diverse. I can only imagine that Jeff joining the band was an objectively great move for both parties: Michael had an EXTRAORDINARY, once-in-a-generation talent in Jeff now, and Jeff had a stable income, which he rightfully deserved. Between the break-up of Nevermore, who never saw their potential met, and releasing two solo albums that were probably just popular to the diehard Nevermore fans, I can only imagine that he might’ve been struggling a bit. There are zero guarantees in underground music, especially since the dawn of downloading.
But talk about a WASTED opportunity? Jeff didn’t have any true creative input at all. He wrote nothing, meaning that Michael is his own worst enemy. And Michael even stated at the time that he was putting a muzzle on Jeff because the band had a formula he wanted to stick to and didn’t want Jeff to potentially steer the band too far away from that formula. If that wasn’t an omen for what Jeff’s time in Arch Enemy might’ve been like, I don’t know what is. Just imagine what Jeff’s input, even if just a little per album, would have done for Arch Enemy in terms of revitalizing the band with a potentially fresher, far more exciting and intense sound. All Michael had to do was be brave enough to step away from his comfort zone just a little and that little bit would’ve made all the difference in the world. 
Michael Amott: The Undisputed King of Stepping On Your Own Dick.
Because that’s what this was. I doubt there was any true behind the scenes drama; but while Jeff had a guaranteed paycheck from a well-established band, he was legitimately being wasted. I actually heard a new Arch Enemy song featuring their current female singer (Angela left years ago and is the band’s manager, but the band sure knows how to stick to a formula!) and it was an absolute chore to listen to. If you’re a musician like me, or at least familiar with both Michael’s and Jeff’s songwriting styles, then you’d know without being told that there’s no way Jeff could’ve written that dribble. 
After CM Punk was fired from AEW earlier this year, the Young Bucks went into the ring after a taping of AEW Collision and like two children, did a victory lap around the ring in celebration of Punk’s firing, in a relatively empty area. Pretty pathetic, as Punk pointed out a year earlier that the Bucks were also stepping on their own dicks, which is currently destroying their own company from the inside. So, was Arch Enemy’s press statement addressing Jeff’s departure Michael’s own proverbial victory lap? Because while Arch Enemy continues to have a built-in fan base, who really gives a shit anymore? I sure don’t, and it’s all because Michael Amott would rather get in his own way than try to make even more money.
Much like the Young Bucks were intimidated by CM Punk and his star power, I have to wonder if Michael Amott was intimidated by Jeff Loomis and his abilities. Even though Arch Enemy CLEARLY outlived Nevermore, who broke up in 2011, could Michael have been nervous that Jeff would’ve stolen the show, challenging Michael to up his own game. Michael is clearly talented in his own right considering he literally invented a subgenre that’s copied ad nauseum to this day; but he’s not the guitarist Jeff is. Not by a longshot! 
Sadly, this is truly the better deal for Jeff as well as Bland Enemy. Bland Enemy can continue making more bland, boring Dad Metal while Michael Amott continues to step on his own dick, and Jeff Loomis can be alive again.
Within a month after my first ever metal band fired me after five more gigs including a Dimebag Darrell tribute show at the now-defunct Don Hills in Manhattan (this was actually our second show a good week after our debut gig), we all managed to stay friends…at least for a few more years. I even tagged along with two of those guys to see Black Label Society, which I just wrote about not too long ago. I even saw their first (and only) gig without me, in which Jon had switched over to my now-former spot as guitarist, and a friend of theirs took over Jon’s position as bassist for a Randy Rhoads tribute show at Dock St (Cock St). I even recall that the band chose “Over the Mountain”, the opener to Diary of a Madman, my favorite Randy-era Ozzy album as their tribute song of choice.
That situation didn’t work out for long, and for reasons I cannot remember. But I do know that while on the phone with Idrees one night, he told me the band had another Dock St show lined up but were potentially going to cancel. Why? All because they didn’t have a second guitarist.
Fucking seriously?
That to me sounded more retarded than when Idrees said he wasn’t going to introduce the songs because he wanted us to sound like we’ve been around for five years. So, that, along with my knowing that it’d be a while before I’d play another gig again while I was putting my own band together, prompted me to volunteer my services for one last gig. The deal was the band would call me ONLY if they exhausted all of their options. Idrees agreed and said the band would talk about it.
I guess they “exhausted” all of their options, because within two days I received a voicemail from Idrees: (Cheesy metal voice) “Vanguard, live at Dock St, one last time, with Mike Alexander! (Back to normal voice) Yeah man, we need you.” So just like that, I was to meet up with them at Fenix Studios for rehearsals. I’d no objections, as Fenix, which is still open today, was far closer to my house than Future Star Studios. But I’d eventually change my mind regarding my opinion on this studio within a year.
We did two rehearsals. At my request, we would cover “South Of Heaven” by Slayer, which would be how we opened our set at the show. Rehearsals were strange, not just because I was nagged into doing a second practice either. Joe Ryder was brought back as the band’s bassist, which was a welcome return, as things had apparently gone very south with Jon. Joe was not a good bassist, but he was significantly easier to be around. “Aren’t things a lot less tense now?”, commented Chad in the middle of that first night. And he was right.
That’s why I found it weird when Jon showed up for the second rehearsal two nights later. If I’m not mistaken, he’d manipulated Joe to believing the band kicked him out, which wasn’t the case at all. I imagine Chad, Idrees and Chris must’ve realized that it was way too close to the night of the show to do anything about it right there, and that the situation would have to be handled after the show. What was more amusing because of this was that Jon wanted to talk to me after the rehearsal. I’d agreed, thinking he was going to make plans to get drunk, as he had this fake ID that was perfectly counterfeited – there was NO WAY anyone could have figured out that this “21 year old” was actually 17! We were going to make plans to do that one night, but I was fired from the band before that could ever happen.
Jon didn’t want to talk about getting drunk, but he sure wanted to try to convince me to rejoin the band. He knew I was trying to put my own thing together, but he was going to try anyway. Chris, who’d previously tried to get me to come back a month earlier, heard the conversation and immediately jumped in, even though he and I both knew he had other plans for Jon. I just stood there, looking at Jon, thinking “if this kid only knew…”.
I don’t remember too much about the night of the show, expect Dock St was hot as balls. As per usual, very few people were there for me. But I did have support via Mike Spennato, aka 80’s Mike, a sucker for all things gay ass hair metal, and Florian, or just “Flo” for short, two colleagues from my college radio station. Mike would actually take the pictures you see on this blog post, and some of them came out pretty cool. Here’s a quick story about 80’s Mike:
As I’ve mentioned in the past, Chris at this point in time was dating the sister of my radio station’s music director, Marissa…who had fantastic titties. I guess there was a bit of a miscommunication between Chris and Marissa, and I’m assuming Chris might’ve heard beforehand that a member of the band he was going to audition for happened to work for the station, prompting Marrisa to tell Chris that the guitar player in question was 80’s Mike – who also happened to be her assistant director of her department, not I. Therefore, Chris, at least for a very short time, was probably waiting for me to break out Poison or some shit. Of course, he then heard me play, causing him to second guess that conversation.
Sometime before our first show Chris finally asked me if I was into hair metal, which was baffling. But as he talked more, I realized what the confusion was, prompting me to laugh as I set the record straight. He had said that as soon as he heard my playing style, he told himself “There’s no way this guy listens to Ratt!” And he’s right. Chris would actually meet 80s Mike a few weeks before I was fired during a gig and he told Mike this story while we were waiting to go on stage.
Because fuck Ratt.
On stage, our first song, as mentioned earlier, was “South of Heaven”. Chad played the intro a little too fast, something I talked to him about during rehearsals. I know he wasn’t a fan of the song, and he looked like he couldn’t wait to get it over with. I took it as a bit of inconsideration for me since I’d volunteered my services that night. The set otherwise was all the usual shit. I’m also pretty sure I went straight home afterwards.
Unless I’m greatly mistaken, the woman seen here taking pictures was Chad’s girlfriend at the time. I completely forgot her name.
Now THIS is a fucking awesome picture. I always made doubles of all my pictures, and this one was so badass that 80’s Mike wanted the double to keep. This reminds me a lot of the very first picture I ever saw of Chuck Schuldiner in the same issue of Guitar World Magazine that announced his tragic death.
Mike Spennato aka 80’s Mike on the right. I have zero recollection of who this fucking guy on the left is.
Left to right: Florian Uchitel (I think that’s how his last name is spelled), 80’s Mike, and that guy whose name I don’t remember.
The Night After
I’m pretty sure I worked that morning. I hung out with Chris and Idrees that night, I at least think Idrees was with us. Chris had fired Jon that morning on AIM, as a result of him driving Joe away before this gig and according to either Chris or Idrees, Jon complained a lot about mistakes everyone made at the show including myself. I found that weird, not just because I was gone for good now, but because mistakes happen all the time when you’re live…unless you’re in some technical Death Metal band where your feet are planted in the same spot for two hours and the only movements you make revolve around circle headbanging. Or the homos from Dream Theater.
Because fuck Dream Theater
The band itself broke up not too long after this, and most likely over the aforementioned second guitarist bullshit. They’d regroup shortly after, only to break up again just as quickly.
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It had only been a few weeks since my previous, and first visit to the then-newly christened Starland Ballroom in Sayreville, NJ. That show was fucking amazing beyond words! But this time would be drastically different. I don’t remember if I was invited either before or after my band fired me; but Idrees, Chad and I were going to go to see Black Label Society at Starland with Chad’s friend, who apparently met the band before at the now-defunct Slipped Disc Records in Long Island and was hoping on this night to present Zakk Wylde himself with a guitar he’d built just for him. Chad, Idrees and I had seen Black Label Society months earlier on Ozzfest ’04, but this was to be the first time any of us would see the band or Zakk as a headliner in their own show as opposed to a festival setting.
Quick Backstory
Zakk had released Mafia, Black Label’s seventh album not even a month earlier on Tuesday, March 8th, 2005. Why do I remember this? Because I drove out to Best Buy in a snowstorm after class ended that day just to buy it.
There was a shit ton of anticipation leading up to the release of Mafia. It would be the band’s first release on Danny Goldberg’s Artemis Records (which was purchased by E1 Entertainment the following year) after six albums on Spitfire Records, and the lead-off single, “Suicide Messiah” was gaining airplay pretty quickly. But there was one crucial aspect to Mafia’s release:
It was released four months to the day after Dimebag Darrell was murdered on stage during a Damageplan show.
For those of you who somehow don’t understand the significance of this event by now, Dime and Zakk were best friends since they met in 1994 during the Monsters of Rock Festival in Castle Donington…which you younger fuckers would now know to be the Download Festival. Dime played with Pantera and Zakk played with his Southern Rock wannabe band, Pride and Glory. The track “In This River”, while not written about Dime since Mafia was recorded well before he was even murdered, let alone before the album’s release, would subsequently morph into Zakk’s tribute to him. More on that later.
The Night of The Show
As I had mentioned in my Motorhead article/podcast not too long ago, my band had fired me a good week or two before that show in particular. Funny thing is we were still friends afterwards, proving that it can be done. Chad’s friend, who’s name I think was Mike, picked me up in his Jeep with Mafia just BLASTING through the speakers. In the Jeep was Idrees, me, Chad and Mike’s girlfriend, who looked like she was way too pretty for him. Her hair was long, dark and flowing, the type of hair any red-blooded straight male would have way too much fun pulling from behind!
We had a bunch of musical conversations, a lot of them centered around the new album, which I had quickly decided was the best album Black Label had released to date. The songs were far more consistent and even the guitar tunings were consistent for once! What I had also really liked about Mafia was the fact that Zakk had continued the retro sound he’d started with Hangover Music, Vol 6 just a year earlier, with the inclusion of 70’s era synthesizers peppered throughout the album, along with the fact that, by this point, Zakk was probably the only artist I knew of who was still relying on 2-inch tape to record his albums. By the time of Mafia’s release, the last factory that was producing 2-inch tape had ceased production, and you therefore had to special order it if you really wanted to record in the old school way.
Chad appeared to be the one guy not too interested in the album. This was not because he wasn’t a Zakk fan; but rather because two weeks earlier (I think), he’d seen Steve Vai at Starland (this might’ve been his first Starland trip) and it apparently was a hell of a religious experience of sorts to him. So, for a short time, literally nothing else mattered and no one else impressed Chad because he’d just seen God. He worshipped Vai the same way I worshipped Zakk, so I understood. In fact, I tried to get him to hear the guitar solo to a track called “You Must Be Blind“, one of my favorite songs and solos on the record while we were driving to the show, because of its diminished, dissonant nature…he never even paid attention and missed it. Ok, fine.
I tried.
I don’t know if this was the case when I went to see Motorhead since I had gotten in with Dave Lowe before the crowds began to show up; but upon arriving through the front of the building this time, security was very heavy and intense. Everyone was being searched, not just in the corridor before the main room, but even at the entrance. I could only assume that either Zakk demanded that take place, or every venue in the country began doing it. Or both. And all for the same, obvious reason. Either way, this was the night I decided it would be better to never wear my chains to a show again, just because I didn’t want to deal with the hassle again. I don’t have time for that shit.
We’d missed the opening act, which was Nick Bowcott playing Pantera riffs along with a drum machine. Well whoop dee fucking doo! Some of you only know Nick as a major contributor for Guitar World Magazine. Some of us know his…deeper history…and it sucks. Clearly, we didn’t miss much there. But what we did walk in to was a Swedish band called Meldrum, who were in the middle of the single WORST cover of “Walk” I’ve ever heard in my life to this day. On top of this horrid cover, guitarist Michelle Meldrum-Norum, who has since passed away, looked like a fucking Zakk clone, from the hair to the appearance to even her tendency to rest the guitar on her knee…even if she wasn’t doing so to solo like Zakk did. There’s probably a reason I don’t remember anything about their set, and it’s not “just” because more than eighteen years have passed since this show either – it’s because Meldrum sucked balls.
After Meldrum finally fucked off, covers protecting Black Label’s backline had been removed. Craig Nunemacher had a BEAUTIFUL double bass kit with the Mafia artwork on the bass drum skins. I’d seen videos and pictures of this huge wall of Marshalls with no signs of bass amps in sight. But this time, the entire left side contained all Ashdown bass amps. That was a first. Before the lights went down to begin Black Label’s set, there was a couple standing in front of me, but not in my way, as we’d found a good spot on the left side up by the balcony area, behind one of the bars. The cute blonde girl bent backwards, her hair hanging down, as she looked directly at me and sensually signaled for me to come to her.
She gently cupped my ear, still bent backwards in her boyfriend’s arms. I immediately wondered if she was going to tell me that the guy wasn’t her boyfriend and then invite me to fuck her that night! But no, she just was being polite and wanted to know if they were blocking my view, to which I told them they weren’t. You tease…you big fucking tease…
The lights finally died down.
However, instead of the usual air raid siren that the band were known for, the main theme to The Godfather played through the PA, smoke covering the stage. THEN you heard the air raid siren after a minute of silence! New Jersey is where Zakk grew up, so the crowd was ballistic. The band, Craig Nunemacher, James LoMenzo, and future registered sex offender, Nick Catanese would walk on stage and strum a huge A chord before Zakk Fucking Wylde went whammy dive-happy on his Karl Sandoval Polka Dot V Replica, seamlessly, violently transitioning into a blazing solo that lasted a few minutes before breaking into “Stoned and Drunk”.
The Setlist
Stoned and Drunk (The Blessed Hellride) Destruction Overdrive (The Blessed Hellride) Been a Long Time (Mafia) Funeral Bell (The Blessed Hellride) Suffering Overdue (The Blessed Hellride) In This River (Mafia) Suicide Messiah (Mafia) Demise of Sanity (1919 Eternal) Spread Your Wings (Mafia) Zakk’s classical guitar solo spot Spoke in the Wheel (Sonic Brew) Fire It Up (Mafia) Stillborn (The Blessed Hellride) Genocide Junkies (1919 Eternal)
Pros
Upon watching Black Label’s Broozed, Boozed and Broken Boned DVD, I noticed that you couldn’t really hear Robert Trujillo’s bass if at all, with the exception of one track at the end. But on this night, James LoMenzo’s bass was as clear as Zakk and Nick’s guitars. The band had performed a lot of tracks off of the new album, along with The Blessed Hellride, which I think needed to be done. Black Label never toured for that album because Zakk chose instead to tour with Ozzy that summer, which I still think was a real stupid mistake.
To introduce “In This River”, Zakk showed everyone his guitar of choice for the song. It was a prototype Dean Razorback that was designed by Dimebag Darrell himself, and made with some of Zakk’s trademarks, including the exact EMG pickups he’s used since time immemorial, and his classic bullseye design as the finish. In trying to explain the significance of the guitar, I supposed he was distracted by some people, prompting him to tell the crowd in his oddly New York City-like accent “Yo, shut the fuck up! I’m tryin’ to tell a story!”, before telling the crowd that not only would he never get over Dime’s murder, but that “In This River” would never leave the setlist.
I call bullshit there. When I saw Black Label in 2011 in Manhattan, I was waiting for “In This River”. The band never played it. Explain that one, Zakk!
What was also a welcome surprise was that, while I was waiting for a blistering, ear splitting solo section from Zakk in the middle of the set, in its place was Zakk sitting on his speaker cabinets with a classical acoustic guitar. He began playing on that while the remaining BLS members, along with the members of Meldrum went on stage and played poker.
I can’t make that up.
Interspersed in the solo set were pieces of “Diary of A Madman” and Zakk’s own Ozzy masterpiece, “Mama I’m Coming Home”, which prompted the entire building to sing along while he played. After that was done, he finished this segment with “Spoke In The Wheel”, which began with just Zakk, but ended with the entire band rejoining Zakk on stage so Zakk could solo his ass off some more. But would you believe me if I told you that this is what I found to be the biggest con of the evening?
Cons
Ok, Zakk’s playing, as usual, was loud, violent, precise, muscular, aggressive, intense. You name it, that’s Zakk’s style. But Zakk did not NEED to perform long ass, extended solos in between songs and even during songs. This is where shit got redundant. Seriously. I get that maybe Zakk might’ve seen it as his nightly tribute to his best friend, as it was increasingly, visibly taking its toll on him. And believe me girls, the drinking didn’t help one bit. But if you’re not going to change up the style even just a little, it’s going to get boring.
The only other con, while not a big deal at all, is that I would’ve loved to have heard more tracks from other albums. I understand that The Blessed Hellride and Mafia were his two most popular releases at that point in time (Mafia would actually go on to sell 250,000 copies); but his other albums had some amazing tracks that should’ve been revisited. He eventually would, just not on this night.
If I recall, after we all left, we were waiting for Mike to see if he was able to give his handbuilt guitar to Zakk after the show. I don’t believe he was successful; but Chad, if you’re reading this, since you did find my blog in 2020, feel free to lend me your insight if you remember anything, and let me know if he was successful or not. Also, let me know if I’m right about his name being Mike. Thanks! But what I do remember is that, on the way home, Mike reminisced about the night in 2002 when BLS played the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. He confirmed what I already knew, which was that show was far more chaotic, and added that he saw multiple cars being pulled over by the police for drunk driving before any of those people could even leave the immediate area.
Bried Update on Lift with Hatred T Shirts
If you’ve been following me on Instagram – and I could give two shits if you do, trust me – you might’ve seen stories and posts that indicate that I’m actually making it happen. After years of just thinking about it I’m finally putting together my own line of Weightlifting meets Extreme Metal themed shirts for your disgust! I received a test copy just yesterday and realized immediately that it needs to be adjusted. So, stay tuned for more information as this story progresses. Or don’t.
It was 5:00 yesterday morning, as I type this, when I was awakened by the sudden urge to take a big shit. I’d taken my phone with me, since there were no books in there to read. Within a few minutes I’d received a notification from Yahoo! News which read: “Jimmy Buffett, Singer-Songwriter Who Turned ‘Margaritaville’ into an Empire, Dies at 76”. I was too tired to really show excitement at that moment; but it certainly made my shit that much more glorious – probably because Jimmy Buffett was just that, shit!
It was later in the morning when I received the following greeting from the owner of the Lift for Satan clothing line:
“Good morning friend, let me start off the day with the good news that Jimmy buffet is DEAD!!! Enjoy that cheeseburger in hell you dork haha”.
You think he was just a tad more excited about this than even I?
But since I don’t intend to make this too long of a post, here are some things I will NEVER forgive his ass for:
He apparently coined the phrase “It’s 5 O’ Clock Somewhere”.
It’s true. It’s actually a song he wrote and performed with country artist/fellow homo Alan Jackson. The phrase is just fucking stupid and so is the fucking song. Are you that idiot that uses the term “It’s 5 O’ Clock Somewhere” as an excuse to have a drink? You have far bigger problems to worry about!
And you sound retarded.
He Ruined a Good Portion of Key West.
See, in the years preceding Jimmy’s arrival to Key West from Mississippi, Key West was just a bohemian, counterculture-oriented remote island city off the Florida coast. Was it the best place to be back then? Hardly. But in the 70’s even New York City – which was home to an INDESCRIBABLE music and art scene! – was a literal Hell on Earth! However, as economics go, rent in these cities was still cheaper than a $2 hooker.
But that was the allure of Key West. Unless you were living there, and knew where to go for a good time, the place was truly a mystery in the decades preceding the internet. Jimmy came along, and he later would donate money to help save the manatees. Ok, that’s admirable and I can respect that. But things changed when just a few years later he opened up a restaurant/souvenir shop named after his signature song (more on that later) in Key West.
What followed was massive financial success via the tourism it brought in. It sure sounds good on paper until you find out that Jimmy would go on to buy more and more properties, which would include more restaurants, hotels, and even retirement communities. And what does this lead to in Key West, as it would any other not-so-well-to-do place that’s generating that much money? Gentrification, something I’ve ranted about a few times on here over the years. And suddenly, Key West natives that were living there before Jimmy even arrived in 1971 can barely afford to stay there.
Thanks a lot, you ass!
His fans are “Parrotheads”
As the Lift for Satan guy said to me yesterday morning, Jimmy Buffett essentially wrote music enabling middled aged, white jackasses to get shitfaced. Jimmy described it as “escapism”. Uh huh, sure thing, buddy. These rabid fans have taken part in actual Jimmy Buffett Conventions taking placing in Key West every year since 1985. They all come down with their parrot hats, flip flops and Hawaiian shirts – all Jimmy’s signature garb! – and they couldn’t wait to see Jimmy play on the Parrothead Cruise.
That’s not a convention, that’s a fucking cult!
He wrote “Margaritaville”
Released in 1977, this absolute shit-sterpiece of a song jump started the fledgling career of an undeserving Jimmy Buffett. It also gave aspiring beach bums everywhere a reason to flock down to Key West, ultimately ruining it, as their money enabled him to turn that one song into an empire the likes of which I personally hope I never see or hear of again because it’s that cultish and fucking gay. I guess everyone was able to relate to a song about some moron who ran off to a beach resort to hide from his self-inflicted problems and drink his sorrows away(?).
The Aftermath
So where do we go from here? He’s dead. Much like when certain politicians bought themselves a third term as New York City mayor, it’ll take an awfully long time to get the stench of Jimmy Buffett the fuck out of the Florida Keys in particular. Yeah, Jimmy has chain restaurants and hotels scattered throughout other parts of Florida as well as the country as a whole. There was even a Cheeseburger in Paradise restaurant not too far from where I live. But what I can only hope for now is that, in time, the fake beach bums and tourists will sooner or later get over themselves, stop using that idiot’s music as an excuse to get shitfaced, get rid of the stupid Hawaiian shirts and flip flops, and realize that much like the guy that was actually from Mississippi, they never really were true islanders.
I came up with the idea for Lift with Hatred, possibly in 2016. I wrote my first article about it in 2018; but I never came up with a real philosophy or lifestyle behind the idea. But after being inspired by a lethal combination of caffeine and the hideous site of people while training, I have finally created one, coming up with things and typing them up on posts in my Instagram profile so I wouldn’t forget. Read the following and see if you belong…
The Philosophy
Lift With Hatred because you eternally hate yourself and the way you look. You see men and women with unhealthy, fat bodies and you know you can do way better. You also refuse to let everyone else drag you down to their level of mediocrity as a means to quell their own insecurities.
Nothing screams “I’m a lazy fuck” more than the phrase “I don’t have the time”. Oh? You sure had the time to get blackout drunk with your jerk off friends and totally embarrass yourself in front of girls that would never fuck you anyway. You sure had the time to go out with your soccer mom girlfriends (and not the hot ones either!) and drink more white wine and then complain that you’re getting fatter.
You sure had the time prioritize anything else that was probably worthless and brought you several steps closer to becoming even more pathetic than your parents. That’s why in ten years, while you’re all fat and absolutely HORRID looking, I of all people will be far stronger and able to take care of myself than all of you. I’ll probably still be a great fuck too!
So go ahead, keep saying you don’t have the time to get your fat asses and some kind of shape. Do me the fucking favor and die off so I don’t have to look at you. Really, it’s ok!
Lift With Hatred because you hate people. You hate people because they’ve absolutely wronged you or their mere stupidity and/or presence alone absolutely DISGUSTS you.
Lift With Hatred because getting your anger out of your system by punishing your body is far better for your arrest record. It’d be fun to run some piece of shit down with your car, or even take a baseball bat to some stupid cunt; but you simply can’t afford to go to prison just yet.
Lift With Hatred by leaving your commercial fitness center behind. Find a more intimate setting – an actual GYM, even if it’s half the size of your soon-to-be former fitness center, where you will no longer be targeted for training with intensity and with purpose. Find a gym so you won’t ever again be accused of “slamming the weights” just because you pulled more weight than everyone else there. Find a gym so no one will stare at you for being “loud”, not because you were just grunting for the sake of grunting, but because you happened to challenge yourself and just maybe lift something neither you ever lifted before, or that they ever will because they don’t understand the concept of EFFORT.
Lift With Hatred by either surrounding yourself with greatness – another reason to join a real gym – or take all that anger, frustration, violence and rage, and channel it into a singular, laser sharp focus. Tune out every single annoying voice in the place; or maybe you’re fortunate enough to have your own gym at home with all the necessary basic equipment (bench, power rack, some sturdy bars and several plates). All your sights should now be set on that bar on your shoulders, over your head, or on the ground, all waiting to test you. Chalk up – gloves are for pussies after all! Choke the life out of the bar as if it’s someone’s neck. Squeeze tighter than you ever have in your entire life.
Is this you? Do you think you’re worthy? Tell me if you think you’re worthy, and why in the comments.
Brief Sidenote: This main picture above is actually a rough draft for a potential Lift with Hatred shirt.
It’s been brought to my attention via e-mail that the cost of my premium subscription to Spotify will be increasing in less than two months. I don’t believe it’s going to affect me too much, as what the cost will be is not even a dollar above what I currently pay. With my subscription also comes Hulu, which I partially rely on for TV, as I “cut the cord” more than four years ago.
Fuck cable.
It was a day later, however, that I read a Metal Injection article which indicated – not surprisingly – that, while the fees are going up, artists royalties are to remain the same. In fact, it’s also been brought to my attention over the years that the royalties artists receive via Spotify alone are actually disgraceful. How disgraceful you ask? The traditional, long-standing royalty rate a typical artist receives in terms of record sales is $00.08 per record sold, eight measly cents. Spotify’s royalty rate per regular stream?
Anywhere between $0.003 to $0.005.
That’s pretty fucking bad last time I checked. But hey, at least Apple music pays their artists up to a penny per stream, right? Anyone? That’s no way for any artist below megastar caliber to live. There’s a reason why there are so many bands these days that, despite possibly having all the potential in the world, call it quits eventually. This goes for ALL genres of music, by the way.
This is also another instance in which I will ABSOLUTELY point the finger to my generation, the ones who, in an act of self-righteousness act like their time was the pinnacle of society. By the way, it wasn’t. The mp3 format was invented in 1989, a whole decade earlier than I previously thought. It was in 1999 that jackass of the year Sean Fanning along with Sean Parker created Napster. It was a slow, steady build, leading to mass popularity within not even a year. The purpose of Napster? It was essentially “digital tape trading”.
Sounds good on paper, sure. But the difference was, with traditional tape trading, which I definitely partook in, record sales were still a thing. What Napster did was enable users, using the concept of “peer-to-peer file sharing”, to upload and download music in the form of mp3 files for anyone to take. And THAT is what disrupted record sales for the first time, paving the way for the slow bleed of record sales across the fucking board.
Most people I knew turned their backs on Metallica after Lars decided to sue Napster in the summer of 2000. I, along with most, already had turned my back on Metallica not too long before this, when I realized that their first four records were the end all be all, while their mid-late 90’s output was pure, weak shit in comparison. I understood however, as someone who thought he wanted a career in music, exactly why Lars was suing. If new music was really being leaked before it could properly be released, allowing everyone to download it, no one would buy anything. One poignant piece of information Lars pointed out in his testimony to the Senate Judiciary Committee was that, while they were doing just fine from a fiscal standpoint (and still are), most artists beneath them were barely scraping by. While selling 100,000 was peanuts to Metallica by that point, that same number would be a MILESTONE for any underground band or artist.
My brother had Napster on the computer we had at our father’s house. One day, without even asking my thoughts on the subject, he just proclaimed in disgust, in an even more disgusting Brooklyn accent “I can’t believe you don’t like Napster!”. Believe it fuckface! But it’s also easy to be for any kind downloading if you aren’t a musician. And the reason I spoke so much about Napster here is because Napster co-creator Sean Parker decided to invest in Spotify in 2010, a year after the company’s inception, because he felt they were continuing Napster’s legacy.
But hey, want to know a secret? Want to know how you – yes you! – can help make even a splatter of a difference.
Ready…?
You sure…?
Really sure…?
Ok here comes….
BUY THE FUCKING RECORD YOU FUCKING CHEAP FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If you’re reading this, you are a Metalhead who probably does this already, or I hope your ass does. But for the rest of you: do you really like an artist? Do you really want that artist to succeed? Has said artist or band made such an impact on your life that you don’t know what you’d do if they disappeared tomorrow? BUY THE FUCKING RECORD! I don’t give a shit if you but a cassette, CD, vinyl. Fuck, go to any metal show in some shithole bar and you might find bands selling cassettes of their music along with digital download cards.
For those of you who are not metalheads, consider this: an artist’s livelihood depends on record sales first and foremost. I don’t want to hear about touring and merchandise, especially since labels now offer 360 deals in which they literally take money from EVERYTHING the artist does, including selling merchandise. The artist’s ability to stay on any label has always been dependent on if the sales numbers are good. If those numbers drop more and more, the label has no reason to keep that artist.
Quick Tips
Before I go here’s some advice. It’s not a big deal to use streaming services such as Spotify and Apple Music to discover new artists. That’s what I’ve done in the past, even going back to the Napster days. It’s how I first heard key tracks off of Rust in Peace. But guess what I did afterwards? I BOUGHT THE FUCKING RECORD. I discovered Nails through Spotify in 2015, a year before they released You Will Never Be One Of Us, their most important album to date. But after I heard them in 2015 and shat myself, I BOUGHT BOTH OF THEIR FUCKING RECORDS. Go ahead and look for new music; but if you find something that truly HITS YOU, support that artist.
And speaking of Megadeth, another thing you can do, especially if you want to outright get rid of streaming, is to do what I did in 2018. Get yourself an mp3 player and transfer your music onto the player, that way you have at your disposal the music YOU want to hear, not just what Spotify or Apple Music has. Case in point: I unconditionally DESPISE the remix jobs Mustaine did with Rust in Peace though Youthanasia in 2003. But only those remixes are what’s available on Spotify now, not the originals. However, with my music transferred to my tiny little Sandisk, I can hear those aforementioned records in all their TRUE glory any time I want!
It’s rare for me to able to see a show in my neck of the woods anymore, even though I live significantly closer to this venue than The Borgata in Atlantic City, which is where I last saw Jerry play. I haven’t been to too many shows lately; but outside of my last time seeing Black Label, most of the shows I’ve been to required me to travel. And keep in mind again, I didn’t attend too many shows between 2019 and now. I also am hesitant about seeing musicians twice on the same tour because I’ve heard stories regarding their inability to change things up. Zakk had that ability, hands down. I saw him live three times in 2005 and each time was DRASTICALLY different!
By the way, we’ll be getting around to him again real soon.
But nevertheless, I just to give this a go. It’s Jerry after all, and this was the final leg of the Brighten tour. My understanding is Alice are to reconvene soon so they can record their follow up to 2018’s Rainier Fog. This time they had a different opening band, an all-female group calling themselves Thuderpussy, not to be confused with Alabama Thunderpussy.
Thunderpussy began their set with guitarist Molly Sides playing a guitar propped up on a stand with a violin bow. I was a tad taken aback by that, as that was EXACTLY how Tyler Bates opened up Jerry’s set and encore in Atlantic City when I saw him previously. So, was this to mean Tyler wouldn’t be doing that tonight or even on this leg of the tour at all? Stay tuned to find out, girls!
The rest of the band walked on stage, and they began to play, their music reminding me of a modern-day Heart if Ann Wilson circa-1976 transcended time somehow. There were undeniable traces of Led Zep and Allman Brothers in their music peppered throughout. As if the violin bow on the guitar didn’t immediately give that away! Whitney Petty can sing her ass off. And she knows how to physically express herself on stage in a way that’s equal parts provocative and elegant.
There was one point that I do have on film, in which Whiteny is on her knees. Molly walks to Whitney and begins to lean over Whitney, Whiteny leaning back for her like they were going to kiss. HOT. Even hotter? Finding out later on that they are in fact a couple, and that the band are ALL lesbians. And I’m not even talking about the K.D. Lang/Indigo Girls style of butch dyke. I’m talking the hot lesbian type – the type I almost forgot existed!
So, between Thunderpussy’s kick ass live show – because their album, while not bad at all, sadly is a gross misrepresentation of the band! – and their physical performance, I’m convinced I want to fuck every member of Thunderpussy. Hard. I’ll fuck one while the three other members scissor each other while waiting their turns! I’ll make it work!
Did I ever mention I love lesbians?
Now for Jerry’s set!
Tyler Bates did in fact open up with the violin bow on the guitar. I guess there’s a theme here. I knew by the fact that he was bowing in the key of F that Jerry was going to open up with “Atone” and I was pretty much right. Before I continue, here’s the set list. All songs are solo songs unless noted otherwise:
Atone
Psychotic Break
Them Bones (Alice In Chains)
Siren Song
Cut You In
My Song
Check My Brain (Alice In Chains)
Black Hearts and Evil Done
Between
Angel Eyes
No Excuses (Alice In Chains)
Lesson Learned (Alice In Chains)
Man In The Box (Alice In Chains)
Would?
Encore
Whale And Wasp (Alice In Chains)
Brighten
Down In A Hole (Alice In Chains)
Rooster (Alice In Chains)
Goodbye (Elton John)
Notice a difference compared to last show, if you read about my last time seeing Jerry? More on that in a minute. The three-song opener was somewhat similar to the previous show, with “Psychotic Break” and “Them Bones” appearing early. One thing I noticed right away was his organ player. This time around, he took Lola Colette, his opener from last year with him as part of the band this time. Lola’s presence was made apparent almost immediately, not “just” because I was sitting in the middle of the building this time, but because Jerry had her playing organ on “Them Bones”. So, this wasn’t a situation where she was going to step back during the Alice tracks, Jerry made sure she’d be part of the show. And I have to say, while I understand Jerry wanted to do something different, organs and Alice In Chains songs go as well together as rock and rap ever did.
But this is a minor complaint.
The good news was that I was able to hear the entire band this time. The bad news is that I was able to hear Greg Puciato this time. I said it. Fuck, what was Jerry thinking to take Gil Sharone’s advice?? Greg was so pitchy, and so fucking WHINY! Greg, please, stick to sacrificing your body jumping off balconies. But the important part of this show was that this time around Jerry played a LOT more solo material than he did last year. Unfortunately, this doesn’t mean he did a deep dive of his previous two albums. He in fact performed the exact same tracks for those two records that he performed last time. But when I heard “Siren Song”, which I’ve dubbed “Breaks My Back Pt.2”, I was pleasantly optimistic. I also thought it would’ve been one hell of an opportune time to break out “Breaks My Back”! He did preform about 90% of Brighten, however. That alone was a major step up because any time Jerry plays solo is a rare privilege. I might be wrong, but I feel like he toured for this album longer than he did for Degradation Trip back in 2002.
The energy in the place also was MILES ahead of the crowd at the Borgata. I didn’t need to be told it would be, as Montclair, being in northern New Jersey, is essentially in the shadow of New York Shitty. Therefore, there was definitely a mixed, yet equally rowdy crowd. I even bumped into someone I hadn’t seen in almost a decade, while walking to the back of the line. Jerry himself even commented that we were “the best crowd on the tour so far!”.
That energy was made apparent when, for the start of the encore, Jerry had broken into “Whale and Wasp”, the gorgeously depressing instrumental off of Alice’s 1994 EP, Jar of Flies. No one could’ve expected that. I know he performed it in 2019 in Seattle, before he even announced he was even writing a solo record, but that was a completely different situation. So this was a treat! When he broke out “Down In A Hole”, one of Alice’s greatest songs of ALL TIME, the entire crowd, minus a few, joined in one big singalong. The only thing that damaged the moment was Greg’s WHINY bitch vocals. I will never forgive Greg Puciato for that or for even having any kind of a career.
Upon leaving after Jerry’s final performance of the classic Elton John track “Goodbye”, I walked out of there feeling like he might’ve actually listened. The biggest complaint of the tour’s previous leg was addressed – he played more solo shit this time instead of turning his band into an Alice cover band! Fuck yes! I just wish he performed more material from the previous solo records. They could’ve proven to be an interesting challenge for the rest of the band, and even for Jerry. We’re talking tracks that, before 2019, he hadn’t performed for the better part of two decades!
So, with Jerry poised to record with Alice again, the question remains: will he ever record or even perform solo material again? I guess only time will tell…
I knew it’d take a while for me to get to covering this show; I simply didn’t realize it’d take me more than two years since I wrote about my previous concert experience leading up to this point, which took place just four months prior. But in the case of this particular experience, there are a few moving parts here. I’ll get to that momentarily. But any time from here on in that I write about any of my experiences seeing Motorhead live, there will forever be a big hint of melancholy running through my mind, primarily because Lemmy’s gone. And this article will prove difficult for me to convey my thoughts, and you’ll eventually figure out why.
Let’s set the stage, shall we??
Not too long after I began hosting my college radio show, Ali, alumni volunteer host of Ali’s Little Corner of The World, which aired directly before my show on Thursday afternoons, informed me that her boyfriend was a singer in a New Jersey-based Metal band called Arctic Flame. Ali also is one of the two DJ’s who trained me, which means a lot to me even more than eighteen years later because I widely viewed her and the other guy who trained me to be THE two best DJ’s in the entire station at that time. If I’m not mistaken, she’d asked me if I wanted a copy of his band’s unreleased Jack Frost-produced demo to possibly play on my radio show, since we had that freedom at the time. I’d also invited her to see my band play within the next few weeks at Dock St aka the biggest shithole on that dump of an island.
A good week or two before the show, Ali let me know that her boyfriend would be at the show to pick her up, as I’d be driving her there, and because he apparently wanted to meet me. No, I have no pictures from that show, or I would’ve made a whole separate post on that alone. I just remember, if I’m not mistaken that we performed two shows, one that Saturday night, and another the next night. Ali was front and center; and as we said our goodbyes at the end or our set, she was talking with a man wearing glasses with thick, black hair. Dave Lowe has just shown up right before we wrapped up our set, so he missed everything. But the four of us, meaning Dave and Ali, myself and a former friend of mine who I’ll never mention because he doesn’t deserve to have his name spoken, went to get food at the now-defunct Mike’s Place on New Dorp Lane (it may be closed; but the Greek son of a bitch bought nearly every other diner on the Island since that time).
In short, we bonded very quickly over all things Metal and fake wrestling – and I mean to the point that Ali to this day tells her now-husband that he took her friend away from her!
Sorry Ali.
Not too long after this meeting, Dave called me up and invited me to go with him to see his band open up for Motorhead at the Starland Ballroom in Sayreville, NJ. A week or two later, that aforementioned former friend of mine and I went to Dave’s job in the mall to buy tickets. It just took my friend telling Dave that “he’s ready to play the game!” for Dave to immediately take an envelope out of his pocket with a smirk on his face. If you watched fake wrestling at the time, then I don’t need to explain how those two understood each other with that statement, clever as it was…and mark-ish as it was.
Now that the history’s out of the way….
On the evening of March 9th, Dave picked me up at my house to head out to Starland Ballroom in Sayreville NJ, to see a PACKED bill. Arctic Flame were the openers to be followed by Zeke, Brand New Sin, Corrosion of Conformity and of course, Motorhead. This would be my first time in Sayreville since I lived there for 5 seconds when I was 15. This would in fact be my first time in this building under the Starland name because, the last time I was anywhere near that building, I was living just seconds away from it and it was a techno club called Hunka Bunka Ballroom.
Also with Dave was a 15-year-old kid named Derek, who happened to live on his block. This kid looked awfully familiar, when I suddenly remembered seeing him in one of the pictures from my first Vangaurd gig just over a month earlier. Quite a bit had changed since that show. The biggest change?
I was fired from the band two weeks prior to this show. Funny enough, while I was initially pissed off, I actually felt relieved afterwards. The band would regret their decision almost immediately, but that’s a story for another time, nothing major though.
Because Derek and I arrived with Dave, we were able to get in and actually watch Motorhead do their soundcheck.
Let me say that again so it registers…..
WE WATCHED PHIL CAMPBELL, MICKEY DEE, AND LEMMY FUCKING KILMISTER DO THEIR SOUNDCHECK.
My first memories of Starland Ballroom will always be Derek and I walking in to feeling the floors vibrate to the point that it felt like the earth was about to fucking split open. I couldn’t put my ear plugs in quick enough! The PA speakers were tied together, and there were all three guys tearing ass on stage. To be just a matter of feet away from Lemmy Kilmister was like being in front of God, Yahweh, Muhammed and Allah all in one speed-addled, facial wart infested, hot mess playing a Rickenbacker bass.
After destroying about 200% of my hearing (and me loving every moment of it!), Lemmy and Phil broke out acoustic guitars to rehearse what was supposed to be their encore. I’ll explain my wording later on. They played “Whorehouse Blues”, a track off Inferno, the album they were touring for at the time. After they finished that track Derek and I immediately applauded and rooted them on. “Thank you, thank you very much.”, Lemmy immediately replied. I couldn’t help but yell out “Lemmy, you’re a fucking GOD!”. His response?
“No, no, no, God’s a lot taller!”
I will always remember that to the day I finally get my wish and die.
Following that brief, yet life changing verbal exchange, Lemmy walked over to take pictures with the hot, fake-titted bimbo bartenders. Derek suggested we go over to him right now. I suggested that we wait at least a minute or two and let him finish with the bimbos, that way we don’t come off as fangirls. He then walked away. We assumed he’d be right back. The band couldn’t possibly be finished with soundcheck, right?? Well, within moments, the club started letting people in and I found myself feeling like a total dipshit as I apologized profusely to Derek.
And Derek, if you ever somehow come across this article and accompanying podcast, I’m STILL so fucking sorry!
As mentioned earlier, Arctic Flame would be the first band on. Dave seriously had a set of pipes on him. Their style was more Power Metal, which I’ve never really liked; but just shut the fuck up and listen to Dave’s opening wail on this track! The band received a very good response from the crowd overall.
Next up was Zeke, a Punk band from Seattle. I’m extremely selective with my Punk music, but Zeke were really fun. I was very impressed by the band’s ability to stop right in the middle of certain songs so their guitarist could break out pieces of the a cappella guitar solo to Led Zeppelin’s “Heartbreaker”. You know the one. If not, you know nothing about music. Regardless, he was very selective of which songs he’d use to break out those fragments. And you either knew what he was doing – as I sure did! – or you were as fucking clueless as most of my high school graduating class. I would see the band’s bassist, Jeff Matz again. Only next time, it’d be with High on Fire in late 2007 in Webster Hall.
Up next were Southern Metal band Brand New Sin. I remember thinking that Corrosion were going on stage, until I saw Joe Alter hit the stage. I think Chuck, their bassist looked like Mike Dean. That’s probably why. After that, I remember absolutely nothing about the band’s set. That sucks because I actually like them. I would be able to see them again before year’s end at the same venue, where they’d be opening up for Black Label Society.
Next up were Corrosion of Conformity. The place was getting packed at this point. I had a good spot behind this younger kid with a leather jacket and sleeveless denim vest much like mine, although I simply didn’t wear mine on this night because it was cold as balls out that night. This would be my first of two times seeing Corrosion live. But there were two noticeable differences between both times I saw the band. On this night, Mike Dean looked a LOT cleaner cut, whereas when I saw him a decade later, he looked a lot more like Dr. Brown from the Back to the Future Trilogy. The other difference? The band were five years into a decade-long period where Reed Mullin wasn’t in the band.
I don’t remember too much about this set, except for the fact the Mike turned out to be an EXTRAORDINARY bassist, and that the band were on tour for their yet to be released album, In the Arms of God, meaning they’d be playing a few of those tracks on this night. They broke out the track “Paranoid Opioid”, which told me all I needed to know about this yet-to-be-released album. Funny thing is, when Pepper Keenan announced the title of the song, he introduced it by saying “This is off our new album that’s coming out next month, but y’all probably already downloaded it”. Most probably did. I actually bought it upon its release and wasn’t surprised one bit that it was just DRIPPING of Sabbath worship, which only started once Pepper joined the band in the early 90’s.
After Corrosion left the stage, more people started to push their way through to the center of the floor and beyond. It wasn’t too long of a wait, if I’m not mistaken. As the lights went out, the crown lost their fucking minds before any of the guys in Motorhead even stepped on stage. Lemmy walks out…
“Hello, we’re Motorhead. We play Rock ‘N’ Roll…” was the Johnny Cash-like intro he gave, as he cooly flicked a cigarette into the crowd. Mickey counts to four….
The whole fucking place EXPLODED. Megadeth four months ago had NOTHING on this. And that fucking docile kid that stood in front me? He woke up right the fuck on cue, his Mexican Jumping Bean like moves causing the back of his head to headbutt me right in the goddamn nose – the second time I was hit in the fucking nose! And just like at that last concert four months prior, I lost my spot, the crowd forcefully shoving my skinny ass out and back so they can all pay worship to Lemmy.
The Setlist:
Doctor Rock
Stay Clean
Shoot You in the Back
Love Me Like a Reptile
Killers
Metropolis
Over the Top
No Class
I Got Mine
In the Name of Tragedy
Dancing on Your Grave
R.A.M.O.N.E.S.
Sacrifice
Just ‘Cos You Got the Power
Going to Brazil
Killed by Death
Iron Fist
Encore:
Whorehouse Blues
Ace of Spades
Lemmy’s thunderous Rickenbastard bass, plugged into a wall of old, beat-up Marshall heads, torn through the entire room as everyone acted the craziest I’d ever seen up to that point in my life. My first Crowbar experience comes very close, although unlike the at the Crowbar show, the crowd didn’t partake in one room sized fist fight.
Remember earlier when I said Motorhead were “supposed” to do an encore? It started off just as I’d said, with Lemmy and Phil breaking out acoustic guitars to play “Whorehouse Blues”. After that, they plugged back in and tore through “Ace of Spades”, the one song everyone had been waiting for. And the crowd sure didn’t disappoint, let me tell you. If you’re somehow new to Motorhead, the album of the same name is absolute required listening. Not up for debate. After “‘Spades”, they left the stage and we all assumed they’d be back in a minute for more. Instead, Lemmy walked out without his bass and told the sound guy that the show was over, that Mickey was apparently taking a huge shit. “No really that’s it, it’s over”, Lemmy said as the house lights gradually came back up. Everyone was let down, but I doubt anyone was too pissed off. They just saw fucking Motorhead.
Dave drove us all home afterwards, dropping off Derek first, I think, since he had school the next morning. Dave and I got sandwiches and ate in his car (Ali I swear that’s all we did!) and talked about our musical backgrounds and music, my desire to start a new band after being dismissed, and how this show light a fire under my ass. I’d go on to see Motorhead one more time after this, but that was more than three years away.
I need to thank Dave Lowe for his help in verifying key parts of this story, because I didn’t remember everything and this is THE hardest article I’ve written to date. These days Dave can currently be heard on the Warped Reality Podcast, available on Spotify. You can also click here to see all the shit he has on his Link Tree, including a 2007 live clip of Arctic Flame at the now-defunct B.B. King’s.
Confessions of an Angry Metalhead 