Last Gig with Vanguard live at Dock St. Bar and Grill, Staten Island, NY, March 25th, 2005

Posted on December 28, 2023December 29, 2023 by Mike

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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The Specter of Dime Hovers Above: Black Label Society live at Starland Ballroom, April 2nd, 2005

Posted on October 26, 2023 by Mike

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.

“No, No, No, God’s A Lot Taller!”: Motorhead Live at Starland Ballroom, March 9th, 2005

Posted on March 6, 2023July 29, 2023 by Mike

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.

Random Memories of Trevor

Posted on June 16, 2022June 16, 2022 by Mike

It had to be sometime in early 2003. I was on a bus heading home, and, while I still had probably fifteen more minutes before I reached my destination, I pulled out the latest issue of Revolver Magazine from my backpack. If memory serves me correctly, the magazine included a one-page section highlighting recommended up-and-coming bands. There were three bands, one definitely was Himsa (fucking absolute vomit!), and the only other band I remembered was some band called The Black Dahlia Murder, whose music the magazine categorized as “Megadeth Metal”.

That’s not a joke.

Time would go on and a whole year and a half would pass before I finally came across Unhallowed, The Black Dahlia Murder’s 2003 debut album, probably in Sam Goody. I remember that this was also the same day that I bought the very denim jacket that I’d cut the sleeves off of to make a vest out of.

Unrelated note: Don’t ever use the term “Battle Jacket” to describe your denim vest with patches and buttons and spikes on it. Or go ahead and do so and be as retarded as everyone else that uses the fucking stupid term.

Anyway, my dad drove me home, as I still didn’t have a car yet. I opened up Unhallowed and looked at the cover. What’s in a name? What’s in a cover image? In the early days of mp3 downloading and, with a whole decade to go before Spotify existed, I still bought CDs, and still do so to this day. Therefore, the only way to find out what any band sounded like, was to either download a track or two, or to simply BUY the album. I popped the album into my five-disc changer and the following two tracks fucked me up.

The music in this video is actually the opening instrumental title track to the record and it breaks right into “Funeral Thirst”, so it made sense to just post the video instead of two separate links of any kind.

Either way, upon hearing those two tracks now I remember EXACTLY what stood out to me those most. The music alone was not just balls-out heavy, but those minor chord harmonies happened to make me feel every single negative emotion I ever knew or felt in my entire life. I wanted to cry, I wanted to die, I wanted to choke anyone I could get my hands on. It was hopeless. It was beautiful.

Then I heard that fucking voice. It was like nothing I had heard at the time. It was a hell of a lot more screetchy than most Death Metal bands I’d heard, with the sole exception of Chuck’s vocals on The Sound of Perseverance, Death’s last record. He hit the traditional guttural style as well and I realized that he was using the two styles for the sake of a dynamic that was not there at the time. It changed things up in all the songs and it fucking made things far more exciting.

Clearly whoever described this band as “Megadeth Metal” in Revolver Magazine a year earlier must’ve been either high or just absolutely clueless. The Black Dahlia Murder, especially as made evident in their latter-day releases were more like the greatest Carcass disciples you’ve ever heard!

This was just the beginning of a long ride for the band for the better part of two decades, two decades that would especially see Trevor Strnad standout among the traditional Death Metal frontman stereotype. As serious as he was in the video posted above, his sense of fun and humor would become FAR more prevalent not just in the videos the band would make in the coming years, but in his persona onstage. The best thing about it all was Trevor manage to balance this act out to the point that his goofiness NEVER took away from the band’s or his onstage intensity. He never took himself seriously and that connected with all of us because we knew it was genuine.

But to be clear, his lyrics were as Death Metal, and as brutal as it got. He’s a line or two from “Christ Deformed”, one of my ALL TIME favorite TBDM tracks:

Diabolic ritual open the portal to damnation
Dark legions gathering for virtuous insemination
Molest and sodomize deride the seed of god’s creation
Impale the Nazarene succumb to a spiritual inversion

In our unholy father’s disgusting house of shame
We revel in endless hatred burning so absolute
Corrupting all who’d enter here surrender to darkness
We kneel to those no more who’d burden and beguilt

Within these wretched walls a summoning proceeds
What form will manifest of this abysmal devilry
The children now are bleeding, we eunuchate his sons
To evil blood and fire this earth will soon succumb
With hell reborn
Your Christ be scorned
Dead faith now torn
His love deformed

That’s why I intentionally waited before I wrote this piece. It was hard to let sink in, that not only is Trevor gone, but to think about how it just might’ve happened. But much like with my tribute to Chris Cornell, I will NOT discuss what happened. Enough people have written about that, and we still haven’t a clue as to the whole story. But I, like most fans of The Black Dahlia Murder, have memories of meeting Trevor and even talking with him at length. Things like this, along with his ability to ACTUALLY HAVE FUN are truly why he’s the single most important Death Metal frontman in DECADES. While my memories aren’t as amazing as others, they meant something to me then, and they without question mean something to me now. So, I’ll share them.

It was the summer of 2006, and I traveled with two friends (one of which eventually got what was coming to him via a heart attack) to the Starland Ballroom in Sayreville, NJ for the Sounds of The Underground Tour, which included The Black Dahlia Murder, GWAR, Behemoth (and you bet your ass I met Nergal on this day!) and several others. I walked by TBDM’s merch table when I noticed a tall, flabby looking guy with a tattoo that read “HEARTBURN” across his belly. It was Trevor. I walked up to him and introduced myself when he replied, “talk a walk with me for a second”.

“Do me a favor, will ya?”, he asked me, as we walked. “We’re shooting a video for “Statutory Ape” today, and I need you and everybody else in that crowd to go fuckin’ crazy. Can you do that for me?” “Fuck yeah!” I immediately said. Hours later, the band walked on stage and Trevor immediately called out the entire crowd “C’MON YOU PUSSIES!!!!”, as they grinded out “I’m Charming” off Miasma, the same record that includes “Statutory Ape”. Sorry to say that no, I wasn’t crazy enough to be a part of that pit, but once Trevor called them out all bets were off.

My last memory didn’t involve a request to sacrifice myself in the pit, no. I traveled to the now defunct B.B. King’s in Times Square, New York Shitty (I said what I said), to see TBDM along with Hate Eternal and 3 inches Of Blood in January 2008. There might have been one other band on the bill, but I forgot who it was. Anyway, my friends and I arrived at B.B.’s and almost immediately I spotted Trevor at the bar. He looked a lot like he did two years prior, funny looking shorts, topless, hair all disheveled. I walked up to him again and he laughed as we reminisced over our previous meeting.

We parted ways after that, and he eventually found his way backstage. But what I always remembered about both those times was that he made himself accessible. It’s a story we’d ALL go on to hear about him over the years. He always hung out with the fans. Upon moving to Brooklyn (and I’ve to this day no idea why he’d do that to himself!), he apparently hung out at St. Vitus on the regular and would support the local bands and talk with everybody there. He even wrote a column for Metal Injection where he’d recommend underground Extreme Metal bands.

I don’t know many other frontmen of legend status like Trevor’s who’d do all those things. We might not ever completely know what happened to the charismatic (that word doesn’t even do it justice!) frontman of THE single most important Death Metal band of this century so far. But he left an UNDENIABLE mark that can never be removed. There will never be another frontman as genuine as Trevor Strnad.

RIP Trevor Strnad 1981 – 2022

My First Metal Gig – Vanguard live at Dock Street Bar And Grill, Staten Island, NY February 4th 2005

Posted on July 6, 2020April 19, 2021 by Mike

As I might’ve alluded to in a previous article or two, I joined my first Metal band as a guitarist in 2004. Previously I’d been a drummer. But it wasn’t until close to year’s end that we rounded up our line up with a rhythm section, having auditioned these two buffoons in Phrygian Studios in Staten Island. As far as I know it’s still around…although that might change depending on when this pandemic ends. THAT was an audition! A completely inexperienced drummer with no technique, a bassist that knew literally nothing about the bass and WREAKED OF SHIT ALL THE FUCKING TIME, and Chad, my co-guitarist who seemingly forgot how to play anything that day or just didn’t have a care in the world. More on the that later!

Fast forward to early 2005. Joe Ryder, our original bassist, while a really nice, quiet guy, was replaced with John Vaynburg, a far more talented bassist – one of only two bassists I ever played with that could nail “The Trooper”, my all time favorite Maiden tune, to the T! Unfortunately he turned out to be a bit of a princess. But hey at least he didn’t WREAK OF SHIT ALL THE FUCKING TIME! Chris, our drummer, slowly began to hold quite an influence on Chad and Idrees’s decision making, thanks to his far more arrogant personality. And I’d every once and a while be lectured – even by the very drummer who I taught to FINALLY develop independent control of his hands and feet! – in regards to my guitar playing being nowhere near as fluid or as glorious as Chad’s. Oh sure, Chad certainly did have technique. But I had tons more feel and attitude. More on that later.

Around this time, we had a few originals, written mainly by Chad. I’d brought some stuff to the table but I’d leave the band almost right after they’d started using my shit. But it was evident that Chad’s music was more in favor because it was more in the Power Metal vein that Chad and Chris were very much into. Power Metal: GAY. Idrees’s gay ass cheesy lyrics didn’t help either! It was hilarious that this is what seemed to be agreed upon when you consider that we were five guys between the ages of 17 and 20 (I was the oldest and the only one in college) that all had individual subgenre favorites.

Idrees, who my own father referred to as “that black kid who thinks he’s white”, was stuck somewhere between 1983 and 1990, and Slayer was his religion, like to the point that it was pathetic. His “singing”, if you can call it that, was more akin to if Luther Vandross joined Judas Preist. I still roast him to this day over it. Chad, while a major Iron Maiden fanatic, also was enamored in all things Steve Vai. Chris essentially followed Chad’s path, only he became a Power Metal fanatic (although he’d see the light months later). John’s tastes were closer to mine. He was very much a Death Metal fan, like I. He also was a Black Metal fan. Then there was me, and if you’ve been reading this blog for the last five years then you already know I only listen to the good shit. And it reflected in my playing, especially my lead playing, sloppy as it might’ve been at the time. I wanted to be the bastard child of Mustaine in his prime and Zakk Wylde. While Chad played prissy lead fills, I was the guy that just ripped on his Body Art Series B.C. Rich Bich.

The Ballad Of Dock St Bar And Grill

As the title of this rant should suggest, this gig was on Staten Island. I might as well admit that I’m actually from Staten Island. Trust me, I’m not proud of it. Where to begin? Well, for the sake of this article anyway, the music scene, at least at this time, could only be described in one word: LAME. Due to the Island’s isolation from the other four boroughs in New York City, along with some fucking morons blindly wearing that isolation with pride, there was nothing really exciting to talk about. There’s a reason why Chris would eventually look outside the island for people to play with.

The local Metal scene had very few decent bands. Dethroned, Enthralled and especially Into The Dementia come to mind (not the biggest Prog Metal fan but fuck me could Anthony sing!). Whiny Pop Punk was very popular. Rap was and will forever be a big deal on Staten Island, primarily because Wu Tang are from there. And by the way, if you’re reading this, are a grown adult around my age living in Staten Island, and still refer to it as “Shaolin”, you should probably be shot in the throat. Five times. But the tried and true money maker, as I’d later discover? Cover bands. So in a nutshell, Staten Island was, and probably still is boring.

By the way, just so we’re clear: Fuck the Wu Tang Clan and anybody that looks like them.

Dock St had been around for decades. I’d actually played there numerous times during my senior year of high school in 2001 and 2002 with my previous band. Aside from Cock St, there hadn’t been many venues for bands to play in that I knew of, especially in the case of bands where only one of us was BARELY under 21. Fuck, Dock St alone had gone through countless management changes both before I ever even played there and especially long after I’d stopped going there. I hated it. It was small, I didn’t like that the booker, who I’d known for a few years, was a grown man befriending the kids, and it was just boring to me. If you’re a grown man hanging out with teenagers, you’re creepy.

Gig Night

Image (3) — **Inside the shithole that was Dock St. In the middle, starting from the left: Chris Dickinson (yeah, that Chris Dickinson), Chad Cresante, John Vaynburg. Bottom: Idrees Williams**

Unlike most of the bandmates I’ve played with over the years, I never got nervous or anxious before a gig. This was no different. But I was very tired, and very annoyed when Chris called me while I was home napping before the show, wanting to know where I was. When I told him I was home resting before the gig because you know, I had work early in the morning and then class afterwards, he had the nerve to tell me to get down there as soon as possible as if it was his band. Of course I ignored him and did my own thing. I heard the anxiety in his voice. This was his first band and hey, I was 16 when I did my first shows. But a word of advice to you anxious musicians out there: there’s NO NEED TO PANIC BEFORE A FUCKING GIG. JUST GET THE SAND OUT OF YOUR PUSSIES AND YOU’LL BE JUST FINE.

My mom, of all people, came to the gig. I warned her not to, for she was going to see a side of me she’d wish she never saw. The band were going to see a side of me they didn’t think they’d see either. More on that later. I do remember seeing some teenager with a water bottle. He asked me if a wanted a swig before going onstage, revealing that the water was actually whiskey. How could I say no? I walked up on stage decked out in all black. I had on a Death t-shirt that I actually still have, black jeans, black boots, a biker watch and a chain around my neck, ready to show these idiots who the real star was…after someone told me he wanted to have sex with my guitar.

We opened up with a song called “Death Knell” (and here we go with the gay ass song titles!), after Idrees refused to introduce the band because we needed “to sound like we’ve been around for five years”. He actually said that. To this day he claims he meant that as a joke; but he seemed way too serious for that to be a joke. As soon as the tempo picked up I spread my legs as far apart as they would go and began banging my head as aggressively as I could without my glasses falling off. I spat into the audience, my eyes popped out of my head as I was ripping through solos.

Then I opened up my mouth. There were a lot more people at the show then I imagined there would be. Very few of them were there for me but the crowd were so into it that a former friend of mine decided to guard my mom, who according to him claimed she was going to beat up the first person who bumped into her. Well, she didn’t stay around much longer. After the second or third song, I took the mic from Idrees, looked toward Chad’s emo looking friends and yelled out “…and remember kids, emo is for pussies!”.

We went on to play a few more cheesy titled original tracks along with covers of “Aces High” (where I played the part of Adrian Smith) and “Peace Sells…But Who’s Buying” (where I played the part of Dave, of course!). Chad was probably the one guy who had no life to him during this show…or any of the shows we played together. Looking at some of the pictures that were taken he appeared to just have some arrogant smirk on his face, as if he was already bored because even his own music wasn’t challenging enough for him. It was the same smirk he had the afternoon we auditioned Chris and Joe Ryder just three months earlier. Kids, when you don’t know how to just have fun at your FIRST GIG, you’ll never have fun.

Image (8) — **Doing my best Adrian Smith impression, playing his solo in “Aces High”.**

Image (6) — **Final song of the night, “Fear Is Eternal”. See what I mean about these gay song titles??**

As I walked off the stage, the first thing I noticed was my mom was gone and I right away assumed it was because I singled out the emo kids the way I did. I did stay for the last band, Whole In One. They were a Pop Punk band, however I was friends with Ralph, their drummer. I’m almost positive I left after them and joined the band for food afterwards at Mike’s Place in New Dorp Lane.

I arrived home late that night to a call on my cell phone as I was walking upstairs. It was these two possibly drunk whores prank calling me. Upon asking them how they got my number and who they were they were rambling a lot, prompting me to hang up. They called back, asking me why I hung up, prompting me to threaten their lives. They then left a hilarious voicemail claiming I never had sex, which was pretty funny since I lost my virginity at 18; and that I apparently suck because I like Iron Maiden. That was a actually an amusing little chuckle to end my night.

The Day After

While eating oatmeal before I left for work early the next morning, mom slowly walked into the kitchen to finally give me a piece of her “mind”, as it were. She was so pitiful, reflecting back in such dramatic fashion, on her view of me after seeing and hearing me in front of a live mic. She confirmed, like the drama queen she always was and still is, that she did in fact walk right out the moment she heard me call out those kids. “You were better in Fallout”, she angrily told me before walking back into her bedroom. Fallout was my high school band, in which I played drums. Therefore I’ve no doubt that her last remark to me was her way of telling me things were better when I couldn’t get to a mic so easily. She’d never see me play live again.

Later that night, I picked up Idrees to go hang out at Chris’s house. Chris’s attention, for the most part was aimed directly at me. Why? Remember when I said I was going to show a side of me the band never saw before? Well, he sure as fuck didn’t know what to make of my performance even 24 hours later. When I asked him what the big deal was he commented that he’d seen me with my feet planted together at virtually every band rehearsal leading up to the gig, seemingly having no life in me. I tricked them all to the point where Chris got a tad giddy as he told Idrees and I “you both are like my fuckin’ Thrash Metal icons man!”. Mission complete.

Inside the house was the guy that recorded our show to watch. And apparently he was emo, because he immediately pleaded with me to not do what I did on the mic ever again because I sounded like an asshole. I think he later on went home and cried as he fingered his pussy while blasting his favorite Bright Eyes album. Mission accomplished!

Extreme Metal Gym Playlist

Posted on August 21, 2016September 5, 2016 by Mike

Gym playlists. Man, some people out there really seem to not have the balls to delve into nastier shit than they’re accustomed to in order to really raise those adrenaline levels. I guess they don’t really want to train with fury after all. Pussies. This goes back to my first true post on here, titled: “…if I had my own gym”. I bitched that the so-called metalheads in my gym cried like little girls upon hearing my heavy-as-fuck Spotify playlist, which contained several tracks by Pantera (the super heavy shit from the mid-90’s), Strapping Young Lad, Nevermore and Meshuggah. The remarks came flying: “What is this crap?” “Yeah I know I’m a Stripping Young Lad but this sucks!”, “Do you have any Metallica??”

Sure, there are gyms out there that understand that Disturbed is NOT the definition of music that makes you want to fight someone of even deadlift the house. But they’re few and far between. Also, I’ve come across plenty of playlists on Bodybuilding.com and, while some have come close, I came across a lot of shit. When I think of real weightlifting music Bring Me The Horizon and Miss May I are clearly, badass bands to train to. Right? Right? Excuse me while I puke out my flank steak dinner and my creatine powder.

So here are my ten picks, in no particular order, for heavy-as-fuck, balls to the wall, rage fueling, gym music.

Nails – You Will Never Be One Of Us, 2016

I’m starting with this one because I need to get something off my chest real quick: I’m so fucking mad at these guys! Just as this album is getting more critical acclaim and attention than any other album sounding remotely like this the band, without warning, goes on hiatus?!?! What the fuck is this shit?? And why now??? Did Todd Jones decide he couldn’t handle the sudden popularity?? Did it go against his hardcore ethos?? Good thing I never went to This Is Hardcore in the beginning of the month because I would’ve been really pissed off!

Now that that’s out of the way…this is most likely my album of the year. In just over twenty-one minutes, this album is literally all killer no filler…at all. This is just straight up RAGE from start to finish. The production is rough, the vocals are ridden with the type of slobbering anger that says Todd Jones wants to hurt you so bad. This is true Meathead music. It’s totally amped up my workouts since it came out two months ago and will most likely continue to do so.

Key Tracks: You Will Never Be One Of Us, Savage Intolerance, Parasite, They Come Crawling Back

2. Pantera – The Great Southern Trendkill, 1996

Yeah…this one…not Cowboys, not Vulgar…this one. Why? Listen to the opening seconds of the title track alone. That’s why. The Great Southern Trendkill is literally the most violent and intense Pantera release in their entire recording career. It just wreaks of every negative emotion you DIDN’T expect from Pantera. I guess it kind of, sort of, also helps that Phil Anselmo was secretly doing heroin during this time. That shit always brings down the mood! Featuring the late Seth Putnam of Anal Cunt on backing screams on certain tracks.

Key Tracks: The Great Southern Trendkill, War Nerve, Suicide Note Pt.2, Sandblasted Skin

3. Strapping Young Lad – Alien, 2005

Ever wanted to hear what a bipolar person sounds like when they stop taking their meds just to make their most intense album ever? Here’s your chance! But it ain’t pretty. Which is why I love it! Devin Townsend knew that Strapping’s 2003 comeback record was clearly stale, minus two tracks. So what did he do? He risked his mental health and let the crazies out to play on more time. I cannot listen to this record when I am driving because there were many times when this record came out that I went into massive road rage, probably came close to INTENTIONALLY running over people and driving into a wall.

Key tracks: Skeksis, Shitstorm, Love?, We Ride

4. Nevermore – This Godless Endeavor, 2005

Without question the heaviest album Nevermore ever did. I don’t know if it was because of the permanent addition of Steve Smyth as a second guitarist, but whatever it was, it worked. Usually known for a more diverse musical formula on previous albums, much of that is non-existent here. Like…compared to the albums before it or after…This Godless Endeavor is musically pitch black. I can totally see myself bench pressing to Jeff Loomis and Steve Smyth’s dueling leads on “Psalm Of Lydia”.

Key Tracks: Born, My Acid Words, Bittersweet Feast, Psalm Of Lydia

5 and 6. Crowbar – Crowbar, 1993/Sonic Excess In It’s Purest Form, 2001

I decided I had to put in two albums here. Crowbar are the ultimate go-to band for intense weight training. It’s unforgivingly brutal, fast enough, slow enough, sludgy enough and add Kirk Windstein’s increasing raspy vocals on being down and out and all I want to do is eat lots of food and deadlift.

Speaking of food, on their Phil Anselmo-produced, self titled album is a song called “Existence Is Punishment”. If you ever watched Beavis and Butthead in the 90’s you probably saw them making fun of that song’s video, leaving Beavis to basically say that the band makes you want to eat and get fat. Oh..and that they’re always taking a dump. Also featured here the most badass cover of Led Zeppelin’s “No Quarter” that you’ll ever here.

Key Tracks: “High Rate Extinction”, “Existence is Punishment”, “All I Had (I Gave)”, “No Quarter” (Led Zeppelin)

Probably the fattest, sludgiest and – believe it or not – most groundbreaking album or their career. Featuring future Goatwhore guitarist Sammy Duet, Sonic Excess In It’s Purest Form truly lived up to it’s name. But not just because it’s heavy, or you might as well consider every heavy album to be groundbreaking. But because the songwriting here is so thought out. Everything was perfectly arranged. “The Lasting Dose”, the album’s most popular track – and the one where the moshpits always reach new heights – probably wouldn’t sound as amazing it does if it wasn’t well written. This one always has me banging my head while training – I could give two shits if anyone’s looking at me.

Key Tracks: The Lasting Does, To Build A Mountain, Failure To Delay Gratification, Empty Room

7. Behemoth – The Satanist, 2014

First off: Nergal is GOD. I knew I loved Behemoth they day I heard their 2004 album, Demigod, in my college radio station, where I found myself playing it to death for a while. It was the perfect mix of death metal with black metal themed lyrics, a new style the band were experimenting with.

But here, literally a decade later, the band is beginning to change. Oh yeah, the brutality of their previous albums is still here, but the music itself feels fresh, much looser, much more off the cuff. I remember hearing Nergal screaming with passion on the track “Messe Noire:: “I believe in SATAN!!!!”, me yelling to my car stereo with excitement “Oh yes you do!!!”.

Key Tracks: Blow Your Trumpets Gabriel, Messe Noire, Amen, O Father, O Satan, O Sun

8. Meshuggah – obZen, 2008

This was band’s second album using eight string guitars, but after 2005’s weird, and heavily drum sampled Catch 33, the heaviest band to ever come out of Sweden were back with fury. Back when everyone and their mother was still on Myspace, I heard “Bleed” on the band’s music player…and nearly fell off my chair. The slow tempo, mixed with Tomas Haake’s double bass rolls, those bowel inducing, low tuned eight strings locked in just perfectly, Jens Kidman’s newly developed screaming…it was as if the band was reborn! Meshuggah were already one of my top five gym bands but obZen is a modern day Extreme Metal masterpiece.

Key Tracks: Combustion, Electric Red, Bleed, Dancers To A Discordant System

9. Morbid Angel – Domination, 1995

The one album that causes the most drama between fans. You either love Domination or the thought of it makes your stomach turn, and that even goes for the members of the band. Between the production style and the change in David Vincent’s lyrical themes and vocal approach, this is either the band’s most brutal album or the biggest pile of shit they ever recorded. Me? I fucking love it! It’s virtually unrelenting, minus “Hatework”, which I could do without. I personally think the clarity in production makes Trey and Erik’s guitars that much more brutal.

Key Tracks: Dominate, Where The Slime Lives, Eyes To See Ears To Hear, Dawn Of The Angry

10. Black Label Society – Live Alcohol Fueled Brutality + 5, 2001

Right off the bat, fuck the “plus 5” on the second disc, it doesn’t matter. I almost didn’t use this album but first off, Zakk Wylde is GOD. Second, this live album is endlessly loud, violent, and brutal. This was recorded on that infamous 2ooo tour were Zakk’s famous “grail” Les Paul was stolen, not to be seen again for a good three years. This is another album I’ll bang my head to and sing out loud in the gym regardless of who’s watching me. Fuck them, they’re all listening to the shitty dance music playing through the speakers or some watered down “rock” through their earbuds.

Key Tracks: Low Down, Lost My Better Half, Bored To Tears, No More Tears (Ozzy Cover)

The End: Black Sabbath live and SOLD OUT at Madison Square Garden February 25th, 2016

Posted on February 27, 2016August 17, 2016 by Mike

I tried to see Black Sabbath with Ozzy Osbourne on vocals on two different occasions. Now, I intended on writing about this in other blogs as I went through all the concerts I went to, but I feel that would take forever and it would make sense to write about it now since I’m about to discuss the show I just went to. When I went to see them at Ozzfest 2004 in Camden, NJ, drummer Bill Ward came out before the band was to play and announced that Ozzy was too sick to play and Rob Halford of Judas Priest was going to sing in his place. You couldn’t be there and complain much after that! The next year, before we even got in inside the PNC Bank Arts Center, the girl checking our tickets told my ex-guitarist Chad and I “No Black Sabbath tonight”. Why this time? “Because Ozzy’s sick.” Sure, Iron Maiden played an extended set that night but I was convinced that night that I’d never see Sabbath with Ozzy…and that Ozzy’s voice is just toast.

So when I got wind, a few weeks ago, that Sabbath had to cancel gigs in Canada because Ozzy lost his voice, the only thing I could assume was that my friend Frank was going to have to get a refund. Little did I know how wrong I would be…and some more. But I’ll get to that in a bit.

I arrived last night at Madison Square Garden with high expectations for the band and incredibly low expectations for Ozzy. Fuck, I really just wanted to see Tony Iommi anyway. But I was also looking very much forward to reuniting with my buddy Frank, who got us the tickets, as well as seeing the opening bands, Rival Sons. Rival Sons got on stage and goddamn they sound even more like Led Zeppelin live than on record! The most obvious sign of it on their albums is the John Bonham-like drum sound. But live, Jay Buchanan did some loud ass wailing while barefoot – that he at least had me convinced that Robert Plant found a way to defy age and join Rival Sons. At one point Frank and I were jokingly singing Zep song titles into two of their songs because they sounds THAT MUCH like Zep songs. I think the last time I heard anyone sound like Zep to the T was Billy Squier when he recorded “Lonely Is The Night”.

To our surprise we didn’t have to wait long for Sabbath to come on. The lights in the Garden went out at 8:45pm, definitely earlier than expected. As the sold out crowd was ROARING in excitement a video came up on the screen. We saw burning buildings that represented the artwork from their most recent album, 13. Then it got really weird, like something out of a fucking Final Fantasy game. But you can see part of it here:

So, as you can see and hear, they opened up with the title track to their self-titled debut. And from their the broke into the classic “Fairies Wear Boots”. Say what you want about Ozzy’s solo drummer, Tommy Clufetos, taking Bill Ward’s place for the last few years as well as the fact that his style is not as jazzy or loose as Bill’s. But he did a really good job emulating Bill’s parts and making him his own. Do I wish Bill was there? Hell fuck yeah I do! But I have to give Tommy respect for making it clear that he was paying his respects. His DW drum kit even looks like Bill’s Tama set to the T!

Geezer Butler, as usual, was on FIRE last night! He bass tone, even from where I was sitting in the nosebleed section, was so strong and crystal clear. HIs fingers were moving so fast on those strings. His playing, both wild with abandon yet perfectly arranged. There really is no one like him. No one.

Which brings me to Lita Ford’s favorite Superhero…as well as the main reason I even wanted to go: Tony Iommi. This is it for him. He’s sick, tired, stressed. No matter what the other guys want to do after this all ends I wouldn’t expect to see him out on the road again. The lymphoma treatments are clearly taking their toll on him. But he still put on probably the most amazing show I’ve ever seen from him and this was the fourth time I’ve seen Tony live overall. His playing was so fluid, so smooth yet so BRUTAL. His riffs – so horrifying, so scary, so BRUTAL. This motherfucker CREATED the style of music I love so much as is the primary reason I play guitar. There will NEVER be anyone like Tony Iommi ever again. Ever.

Then there was that big shocker of the night that I eluded to earlier. Ozzy Osbourne, not known to have had a great singing voice since the mid 9o’s…actually sounded good! I shit you not! I’m pretty sure the key was that the band played songs that Ozzy could handle, which meant not straying far from their first three albums much if at all. If you knew anything about how the guy destroyed his voice over the years you knew there was no way he was pulling out “Sabbath Blood Sabbath” or even “Megalomania” for that matter. Although I was surprised to hear them play “Snowblind” and even more surprised to hear Ozzy hit the high notes without struggle! He was shockingly on point last night…I guess the third time was the charm after all, eh?

THE SETLIST:

Intro video/Black Sabbath

Jack The Stripper/Fairies Wear Boots

After Forever

Into The Void (\m/\m/\m/\m/!!!!!!)

Snowblind

Wars Pigs

Behind The Wall Of Sleep/Bass Solo/NIB

Hand Of Doom

Rat Salad/Drum Solo

Iron Man

Dirty Women

Children Of The Grave

Encore: Paranoid (well, duh!)

Like I said, the band pretty much hovered around the first three albums which the exceptions of “Snowblind” and especially “Dirty Women”. Not that Ozzy sang high in that song; but I doubt anyone expected them to pull out something off Technical Ecstacy, which was not their best album during the Ozzy years. Either way, it was incredibly effective. My head hurt so much from headbanging yet I refused to stop. After the show ended we witnessed some guy who was so drunk he nearly fell down the stairs and that would have been a fucking long way down. He instead fell on his ass and as he when to get his cigarette, which was already lit up, he mistakenly put the lit side in his mouth!

The show was in-fucking-credible, what a fitting way to say goodbye to the band that started it all. In fact, they are playing another show at the Garden tomorrow night and will be touring through September. Without them, and especially without Tony Iommi, there would be no heavy metal as we know it now. For that I’ll always be thankful.

“Is That A Chick’s Ass????”

Posted on November 1, 2015June 11, 2016 by Mike

You see the guitar in the main picture? Yeah? Now look at the finish closely. All you see is a pink guitar? Look again…closer. See it now? Now, if you’re a guy under twenty you just jizzed yourself. Twice. If you’re over twenty you can’t stop laughing, but you still have control over yourself. You women though….oh, you….the mixed reactions you broads have given this guitar over the years…some of you are obviously offended…yet…some of you actually like it!! Really??? Um…ok!

I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on this thing back in the early spring of 2004, probably the end of March. My old music store, where I was no longer taking lessons at this point, was right next door to my shit job where I was working at the time so I took a visit until I had to go clock in. I looked to my right and immediately saw this…guitar…hanging on the wall. It was a B.C. Rich Bich, the one shape I’ve always wanted ever since I saw old clips of Dave Mustaine using it with Metallica on Megadeth’s VH1 Behind The Music episode three years earlier. But this one was…different…and not just because it was part of B.C. Rich’s Body Art Series either. The pervert in me immediately saw what a lot of people usually need a few looks to see. Holy shit that’s a chick’s ass in a thong! A chick’s ass is the finish of a guitar! What does this say on the tag? “Bich’s Back”? Yeah, I’ll say! Only $300? Hmmmm.

I was told by the store owner’s piece of shit daughter, who I won’t name because she doesn’t deserve the recognition, that there were two other guitars like that but they sold quickly as should’ve been expected. She then said that she arranged for B.C. Rich to recall the last one? Why? “Because I don’t want kids to come in here and see it.” I wish I knew what the big deal is, as far as I know she’s only music store employee I ever knew that would say something that stupid. It’s been more than eleven years since I heard that remark and I still can’t believe I heard it! So fuckin’ what if a kid sees it?? After much debating I asked this dumb bitch when B.C. Rich were supposed to come. “Friday”, she told me. “Yeah? Well call them and tell them to forget it. I’ll be back here when I get paid to put money down on it.”, was my immediate response. I had to get this thing.

The very next Friday I went back there right after I got out of work and used part of my tax return to pay the rest off and this baby was mine! As the store owner’s cunt of a daughter was counting my money she quipped in a pretty serious tone “I think you’re a pervert for buying this!”. Oh I have stories on this twat that could last a whole day’s worth of conversation; but then you’d have to knock me out to shut me up. But who gave a shit? They had $300 of my money since I was no longer taking lessons with them at this point anyway AND I had a guitar that practically screamed sleazy, filthy no condom fucking…with the risk of a few STDs. Twenty four frets for hitting those high notes to make this bich scream, a curvaceous body, that finish! The store’s owner offered to drive me to the mall since I wanted to grab some food before I went home since I didn’t have a car yet; while in his van I asked him if he thought I was a perv like his jackass daughter said I was for buying the guitar. “I think it’s the most macho thing you can buy!”, he quickly responded.

My time in the mall? Oh that was just fantastic! I was given an acoustic guitar case to carry the Bich in because of it’s abnormal shape and when I arrived at the food court to eat I ran into someone and I sadly don’t remember who the guy was. I showed him the guitar and he couldn’t believe the finish on this. At that very moment I was approached by this guy I’ve seen on and off at bus stops in his Fun Station USA work shirt. He had long hair in a pony tail with an under shave and he wanted to let me know that and he and his girlfriend both saw my guitar from across the way and he wanted to tell me he thought it was awesome. That was cool and he seemed like a nice guy. The problem? His girlfriend, who was giving me the death stare right behind him, was this lunatic who I was crazy enough to be friends with not even two years earlier and to say the least I was surprised she was still alive. I actually spotted her crazy ass a month earlier at a show and when I told my dad the next day even his response was “She’s still alive??”. So as much as her boyfriend – and future baby daddy – was cool, I could not wait to brush him off as quickly as I could!

It’s amazing, the kinds of people you can attract just by carrying a guitar. While I was on my way home I was waiting to transfer to my second bus when some homeboy asked to see my guitar. “Yo dat shit is dope!”, he yelled out with a big laugh. Then came this weird looking lady who clearly had to be in her late forties. She saw that I had a B.C. Rich and decided to tell me this story that I still don’t know if I want to believe, in which she saw Metallica with Mustaine on lead guitar at a show. According to her Dave was playing his first B.C. Rich guitar. He hated it so much that at the end of the show he smashed it and one of the wooden shards hit this lady’s neck, cutting it open. She then told me she would force it to stay open for weeks because she wanted to keep the memories. Ok….

The next day I finally plugged it in and I was kind of surprised to hear how weak the pickups actually were. I should’ve known, being that the guitar was kind of a novelty. The solution? Replacing them with EMG 85 and 81 pickups – problem definitely solved! Goddamn this thing was loud after that. I was playing it – and bragged about it – with a sense of pride for years. It just screamed “METAL!!” as far as I was concerned. I used it for years, I mean my next three bands. I saw it as an attention grabber and my ex-guitarist from my first metal band joked that the guitar is the one thing I’d be remembered for. Months before my second band’s debut gig in 2007 I decided the guitar needed a little extra kink if you will, so I went to Rudy’s on 48th St in Manhattan and got myself a Levy’s Leather Strap with chains going right down the middle.

Of course, not everybody liked the guitar. Typical scenario: I’d bring the guitar somewhere, where is irrelevant. I’ll take my guitar out and some woman will notice. “That’s an interesting guitar, bring it over here.” I bring it over. “It’s so interesting that you’d have a pink guitar. Wait…is that…oh…”. Just like that she’s grossed out. In fact the last time I had the guitar set up for it’s final shows in 2013, the female owner of the store I went to, Rustic Music Center, took one look and declared “that’s the funniest and grossest guitar I’ve ever seen” before calling the guys in the place to take a look at the finish. I auditioned for the thrash band Sun Descends in 2005 and when I took the guitar out the lead singer, ex-Exumer vocalist Mem Von Stein, immediately said to me with weariness in his eyes “You have another guitar…right?”

But as I said earlier, some women thought it was amazing, including my brother’s ex-girlfriend as well as girls who worked at my college radio station. Speaking of my brother, one day a friend of his that I used to go to school with gave me a ride to the bus, I think. I had my guitar with me and when my brother told me to show the guitar his wannabe rapper buddy even he yelled out “What??? That’s AWESOME!!” Yeah, the guitar even transcends musical boundaries. At my first ever metal show some dope told me he wanted to have sex with my guitar. My bodybuilder doppelganger and friend Jon has even considered buying one of his own all because of mine!

Since then I’ve been retired from band life. So where’s the guitar been ever since I’ve moved to New Jersey? In the closet because my girlfriend doesn’t want to see it. Oh sure, I’ll take out from time to time. I think I’d like to give it another setup. I do know that if I ever got back into it and began work on the offensive metal project of my dreams there’s no better than my Bich’s Back to get the job done!

Here’s the Bich today:

Confessions of an Angry Metalhead

Tag: 2005