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 Take On Metallica’s Being A Band.

Posted on November 9, 2021April 28, 2022 by Mike

https://open.spotify.com/show/4Adxscmvu0LeAWt2xA734l

They’ve got to be kidding…right?

Upon hearing a week ago that Metallica were hosting their own Masterclass series titled Being A Band, I quickly saw just as many eyebrows raised throughout the internet. Nice to know I wasn’t the only one with a brain. Let’s be real: the idea of Metallica teaching ANYONE how to be a band is absolutely laughable. I could give two shits about their legacy, it’s absolutely moot to the purpose of this article.

I just wonder if anyone reading this has actually paid to watch that shit. I can only imagine they’d have no choice but to dwell on their dark past (OTHER than Cliff Burton’s gruesome death in 1986 and James Hetfield entering rehab in 2001) that NO ONE really brings up. So that begs the question: how much of their “advice” is based on the truth? How much more of it is based on a fabricated history? Fuck, Jason Newsted had recently alluded to the fact that there are a “lot of secrets” within Metallica.

That aside, I know better than to watch this shitshow. But I’m here today to bring you my own, homespun, brutally honest interpretation of Being A Band, all for free and all for your displeasure. Let’s go with number 1, shall we??

Labor For Far Longer Than Necessary Over Song Arrangements

That’s right. Go find a band that’s a major influence on you the way Saxon influenced Lars, watch them beat a song arrangement to death when it probably sounded good after just a few tries, assume that it’s the only way to write songs and prepare for a career chock full of infighting within your band. Do you happen to have a musician in your band that’s a songwriting genius that can just shit out song after song on his own while keeping shit basic? Does your band have the ability to make a QUALITY album in a relatively short amount of time?

Fuck that! Make sure that you ALWAYS have to have a say in EVERYTHING the band does. Make sure you oversee every minute detail of the simplest, four minute single. Makes sure your band practices that song over and over again to the point that, once you finally hit that record button, your deadline for the album is just around the corner. How the fuck could first take magic possibly mean shit when you can take years to write all of ten songs and totally piss of your loyal fan base, as they wait possibly close to a decade before you release that next album? Duh!

2. Make Sure Your Producer Doubles As A Yoko

You’re inching closer and closer to success with each passing album. You’ve finally hit Platinum status in sales AND you’re even a home owner now. Imagine you and your band jamming away on a fast, probably badass new track as the big name producer your label brought in arrives and hears what you’re playing. His hello to the band is to tell you to stop and play it slower.

Absolutely listen to him and let him know right away that he has control over you and that your balls are safe…in his grip! It won’t seem like that at first, especially since your initial record under his supervision becomes your biggest selling album of ALL TIME, even if it unquestionably divides fans, and leaving some questioning your integrity. Keep that producer for the next several years, as he influences you to explore sonic territory that not only is unnecessary, but alienates whatever ever “back in the day” fans you have left.

Go ahead and let him be considered by the public to be your band’s fifth member (or sixth if your band’s a five piece already). Take him everywhere you go like the little lapdog he is, and he’ll know he doesn’t need to worry about the source of his next pay check. If you lose a band member, let him PLAY on your next album, thus giving him hope that he might even join your band that he helped to completely alter the course of. Let him dominate you like you’re his BDSM dungeon bitch so bad that the stench is strong for decades to…cum.

3. Overuse Your Wah Wah Pedal To The Point Of Sexual Abuse

Are you the lead guitarist in your band? Did you idolize guitarists that made decent use of their wah pedals the way Kirk Hammett says Michael Schenker is one of the reasons he himself started relying on the wah pedal? Well what the fuck are you waiting for? Stomp that pedal and rock it back and forth uncontrollably and far more often than your idols ever did!

You can’t stand out if your wah pedal use has control and intentional limitations. You need to use your wah pedal on practically EVERY SINGLE SOLO YOU EVER PLAY. Your tone with the wah MUST be insufferable, and you have to sound like you have absolutely no right hand at all.

At all.

Ever.

Not even to jerk off.

4. Grant A Film Crew Unlimited Access To All Of Your Band’s Drama

Did you decide to have a little fun and let the whole world see your band in the middle of recording an album? Did shit not go as planned? Did a band member quit? Did someone go to rehab after years of unchecked abuse that’s still nothing compared to another ex member, whose trips to rehabs surpassed double digits long before your first go at sobriety? Is this person you?

Pay that film crew for the rights to that footage and continue to film away!

Expose your personal business to the entire world. Hire a “performance enhancement” coach known for working with NFL teams, because it doesn’t matter how many business deals you’ve gone through as a band – you can’t handle someone quitting. This coach CANNOT be a licensed psychologist or even a licensed psychotherapist. Treat him like your own, personal security blanket and keep him on your payroll for far longer than any other band in history. Much like your producer (see #2), make HIM so comfortable that he starts trying to write lyrics for your band in the middle of a recording session. The more leeches in your life the better, of course!

Speaking of band members leaving, I saved the most important bit of advice for last.

5. Drive Your Most Loyal Bandmate To Quit

This is the last thing I’ve ever wish on any band. But imagine you lost a band member in a horrific accident ala Cliff Burton. Instead of taking time off to grieve the loss of your comrade in arms, throw yourselves immediately into replacing him before you head overseas to tour. Find yourself your band’s biggest fan.

He worships the very bandmember he’s replacing
He knows your entire catalog inside and out
He’s willing to do anything you want because he doesn’t want to take this chance for granted
He’ll sign autographs backstage while your lazy ass is already back at the hotel getting shitfaced

Haze the shit out of him. You want to remind him that he didn’t just waltz into a happy situation; but because neither you or your band ever gave yourselves the time needed to grieve, you can just take out all of your anger on that loyal, new replacement. Prank him backstage, embarrass him onstage. Dictate what and how he plays when recording an album.

Completely shatter his spirit by being the one guy to still haze him even years after everybody else grows up and accepts reality. Condemn him during an interview with a national publication for daring to express his desires to record an album with a decidedly different sounding side band because you’re afraid to lose him, even if you’re still treating him the new kid years after his arrival into your life. And when he requests to hold a meeting with the band to further express his desires for a break because he physically ran himself to the ground for you and your band, show up drunk at 10 in the morning and tell him no, ultimately strengthening his resolve to tell you to he’s gone.

Follow these five easy steps and YOU just might be on your way to a highly successful career in music!

4/28/22 – look below to see the most hilarious fangirl comment I’ve ever seen. It’s dopes, like this who forget that I’m basically speaking opinion here, whose over the top reactions let me know I’m doing my job. Thanks bud!

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!

Random Thoughts

Posted on November 21, 2019November 24, 2019 by Mike

All Hail The Race Card!

I’m so disinterested in the things rich celebrities say or do that I had no clue who the fuck Lisa Marie Falcone, with her surgically implanted cheeks…or her piano playing pig, even was until last week. I also learned that her style of entitlement and ignorance apparently isn’t just for white people anymore either. Long story boring, her billionaire dipshit husband, Phil Falcone is facing a lawsuit for unpaid wages by former employee, chef Brian Villanueva.

But wait! Here’s the fun part. According to Villanueva, here’s what Lisa Maria Falcone had to say about his girlfriend, also a chef, during a dinner party which included Lisa’s supposed best friend Alicia Keys and her husband Swizz Beatz: “Your girlfriend speaks very well. She seems educated. I would describe her as a chocolate-covered marshmallow”. When asked what the fuck that meant, an arrogant Falcone told Villanueva: “Alicia (Keys) doesn’t speak that way. She didn’t have an education and was just discovered by (record producer) Clive Davis when she was 15 years old. Swizz (Beatz) definitely doesn’t speak that way either.”

Oh, did you think we were finished? When Falcone finally took notice that her chef just…maybe…was a tad offended, she continued by asking Villanueva: “Do you use the word ‘n—a’ at home with your girlfriend? I’m Puerto Rican and grew up in Spanish Harlem so I can speak like that. You’re not ethnic like black people and Puerto Rican people. You’re only a minority. Talk to my black friends. They will tell you that I am not racist.”

So many things I can say here and so little time.

The Race Card. Such a classic way to justify ignorance, especially with celebrities and rich folk. Former Alabama Governor George Wallace, who once claimed: “In the name of the greatest people that have ever trod this earth, I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.”, had the nerve decades later to say in a 2000 documentary on his life that he wasn’t racist and tried to justify it by bring out an elderly black man and saying this man was his best friend.

No, dickhead. No.

Knowing, or being close friends with one or two people who happen to be of a different ethnicity to you can never justify calling out his/her race in any way. My oldest friend of thirty years, and literally THE best friend I ever had, is black. But I also know that if I were to go off on some crazy racist tirade and justify it by saying that my oldest friend is black, he still wouldn’t think twice of putting the kibosh on what we have. Because he’s not stupid. And in that same side of things, Lisa Marie Falcone, you ignorant, spoiled cunt, being a Puerto Rican from Spanish Harlem doesn’t justify you singling out anyone – especially when there’s so much money to be taken from you when you – and especially your tax dodging husband – keep fucking up. Go you! Jackass!

The Politics Of Hypocrisy

“I always believed that leadership involves listening and reading and respecting diverse viewpoints and acknowledging when you didn’t get them right. Over time, I’ve come to understand something that I long struggled to admit to myself: I got something important wrong. I got something important really wrong.

I didn’t understand that back then the full impact that stops were having on the black and Latino communities. I was totally focused on saving lives. But, as we know, good intentions aren’t good enough.

Now, hindsight is 20/20. But, as crime continued to come down as we reduced stops, and as it continued to come down during the next administration, to its credit, I now see that we could and should have acted sooner, and acted faster, to cut the stops. I wish we had and I’m sorry that we didn’t. But I can’t change history. However, today, I want you to know that I realize back then I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

These were former New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s words regarding the Stop And Frisk policy just a few days ago.

I’m not one to ever discuss politics on this blog, or ever, really. And I won’t even get into it now. But let’s talk about why he’s even apologizing. Does he truly mean it? Let’s see…now’s the time to get on the band wagon with every other Democrat hoping to be the next year’s Presidential front runner so….I’m going to go with hell fuck no! For those of you not in the know, Bloomberg, a life long Democrat switch sides just so he could run for office.

On the outside his views could switch at the drop of a hat. But on the inside it was different. As a native New Yorker, and a city worker, I won’t hesitate to say he spent way too much time micro managing the city as if it was his famous corporation. Also, I directly blame him for the gentrification of the city post 9/11, causing rent to increase across the board, ultimately marking the beginning of the gradual demise of most mom and pop businesses in the city, and also forcing tenants out of their homes and on to the streets.

So with that in mind, is he really sorry that his take on crime and punishment might just be what caused the rift between minority groups and the NYPD, a rift that’s just as strong today as it was when Stop And Frisk was in effect? Or is the businessman in him just looking to get that much coveted minority vote? Me? I’d say some snakes just never change their stripes. Politics. The fun just never stops.

My Makeshift Email To My Hypothetical Employees

To anyone who might be new to this site, I work full time in education. Quite a trip. For every few students that will work their hardest and always make you smile, there’ll always be that one psycho trying to stab you with a pencil. Or worse!

So, I receive e-mails from my school’s Assistant Principal every Sunday morning. Here’s an example of her introductory paragraph:

“Happy Sunday all. I hope that you are enjoying your weekend. I had to go out of town this weekend so as I am in the passenger side of the car, riding, I am thinking about what happened this week at work, the mounds of paperwork that need to be done, and what I need to get for Thanksgiving and suddenly, I just look out the window. We are driving over a bridge and I am just staring out the window intently. My husband looks over at me and says, “I know that look, you have an idea”. And I say, “this bridge has me thinking of P.S. ##(don’t think for a second I was going to let you fuckers know where I work!)”. Have you looked at the characteristics of a bridge. They have barriers on both sides for your protection. It serves as a means to get to the other side.”…and so on and so forth, blah blah blah…

I like my Assistant Principal a lot. I really do. But let’s face it, this shit is as phony as it gets. I totally understand what she’s trying to achieve with this dribble. But does she really expect us to believe she was looking at a bridge, or watching some TV show, or playing some sport and was suddenly inspired to find a correlation between that and the school? Fuck no!

But it led me think about what I’d do if I was in her position and wanted to stay close with my hypothetical staff. Would I write a weekly blog like this? And if I did, what the fuck would I do to at least try to keep it real? I wonder…

Good Morning! I hope everyone did something this weekend to improve their overall mental and emotional health in order to begin yet another productive, fulfilling week here. Let’s be real, that could be a lot of things. And so long as I don’t see it, I could give two fucks what you do. Do you drink a fifth of vodka on a Friday night and pick a fight with a random stranger? Pick up a few hookers to relieve some…tension? Attend some “parties”? Perhaps you punch a few walls in your garage? Who cares? If it makes you feel fresh and recharged by the time you come back here on Monday morning, as the famous, decades old Nike slogan says – just do it!

So, my own weekend wasn’t so exciting. Ran out of beer and was too lazy (and exhausted from dealing with all of your students since no one seems to be able to handle them!) to go out and get more, wasn’t able to hit that 400lb squat in the gym and BOTH my fuck buddies were sick. What the fuck are the chances of THAT happening? So, with nowhere else to turn to, I broke out the laptop and watched an old clip from the favorites section of my YouPorn account! In a clip entitled “Man, His Wife, And The Babysitter”, the wife walks in on his husband….well…getting sucked off by the babysitter. Well, duh!

Long story boring, the wife decides to take control of the situation by forcing the now guilt stricken babysitter to continue sucking her husband off, ultimately taking turns fucking this guy that, in any REAL situation would never be this lucky. And of course, wifey, the betrayal still fresh in her mind, waits until he’s good and spent before declaring “I want a divorce!”, as she storms out of her soon to be ex’s office.

This whole situation got me to thinking of our school, its trials and tribulations, its many ups and downs (no not THOSE ups and downs!),who’s backstabbing and betraying who, and feelings among each other as a staff and as a family. You don’t need to be told that we won’t always agree with each other’s ideas and approaches on helping our students succeed. In fact, I’m almost positive some of you ICT teachers in particular are ready to just KILL each other after ten months of conflicting personalities, approaches, intrusions such as teacher assistants and cluster teachers changing preps on you. But if three people can have super hot sex in the most awkward of times, with the older wife showing the younger, greener babysitter how it’s done, then I fail to see how we as a staff cannot get through the most awkward of moments by simply taking the raw emotion out of a situation.

For ten months out of the year we need to set an example to these impressionable, young scholars. What example do you think we set if we fight in front of them? What sense of authority or even stability are we providing if, for 6 and a half measly hours per day, we can’t keep it together? Of course, this is not to say break out into having sex if you have to show your co-teacher “how it’s done”…but if you do just make sure it’s in a closet somewhere and take pictures! 😉 It’s time for me to go clean myself off. But I’ll leave you with this before I go: just ride it out until June and on that last day, in the same way that pissed off wife declared she wanted a divorce, you can tell you co-teacher to go fuck him/herself and ride off into the sunset until September…only to begin the whole process all over again. See you all tomorrow!

Respectfully Yours,

Your Angry Metalhead Principal

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Lift With Hatred: The Workout – Part 2

Posted on September 16, 2019September 15, 2019 by Mike

In part 1 I discussed our training “philosophy” along with my warmup routine. So here’s what you’ve all waited for! I decided to provide not one, but TWO templates for you to choose from. These are full body routines, because the body needs as much volume as possible, especially when you’re just starting. Constant stimulation is also CRUCIAL for rapid growth.

The basis for both of these templates are made up of the Squat, Bench Press, Deadlift and Overhead Press. All classic beginner routines are comprised of these moves because they’re compound lifts, meaning they work more than “just” one body part. But make no mistake, I’m not here to explain the kinesiology of every lift. You can go on plenty of sites for that shit. Remember, make sure you warm up before doing ANYTHING else and, if you have a mini resistance band, take that with you. So, with that being said, and because I wanted to make a Metal themed routine for building a strength foundation, here’s Template A and B of Lift With Hatred: The Sabbath Years.

Template A

Back Extensions – 3 x 10 or 3 x 20 (with resistance band)

Squat – 4 x 4-6 or 1 x 20 depending on your goals (preceded by resistance band shoulder warmup)

Bench Press – 4 x 4-6 (preceded by resistance band shoulder warmup and/or set of chin ups to failure)

Chinups – 4 x failure (you can also superset these with the Bench Press to save time)

Overhead Press – 4 x 4 – 6

Deadlift – 1 x 5

Template B

This is an alternating A-B-A/B-A-B style routine.

Workout A

Back Extensions – 3×10 or 3×20

Squat – 3 x 15

Bench Press – 3 x 15

Deadlift – 3 x 15

Workout B

Back Extensions – 3 x 10 or 3 x 20

Dumbbell Lunge – 3 x 15

Overhead Press – 3 x 15

Bent Over Row – 3 x 15

Explanation

This is as basic and primitive as it gets, much like the first few Black Sabbath records (especially Master Of Reality!). They’re equally as brutal as they are simple as time progresses. Same shit with these exercises. It’s going to be beyond GED simple at first. But the workouts will become difficult as the intensity increases. It’s just up to you to figure out if you can handle it after a while.

Sets And Reps

This shit varies depending on the template. For Template A I wanted you to be able to get in more sets for the sake of more stimulation. In most proven strength routines, more than three sets are usually prescribed. More sets equals more volume, which makes for more stimulation throughout the body. Just because some doctor prescribed three sets per exercise back in the 30’s doesn’t mean you have to just perform three sets. Also, I suggested a set 20 for the Squat as an option for you younger kids reading this. I took the idea from Stuart McRobert’s book Brawn. Stuart speaks about the classic 20 Rep Squat routine which is beyond simple, yet beyond BRUTAL on your legs. But your legs will be huge. Trust me.

Template B offers a more size oriented approach, bringing in dumbbells for one exercise, which will absolutely force more muscle fibers to be used to stimulate more growth. That’s also why the reps are increased here. It’s for this reason that this template offers more of a variety. In fact, the alternating days gives you a chance to use an extra day to recover from the power moves while focusing on more size oriented moves, and vice versa. I wrote a modified version of this template for my first client and he was a believer in full body training after a few weeks.

Duration

Template A is a three month cycle that’s to be trained three times a week, like most strength routines. Both of these routines call for a linear progression, meaning the weights will be increased every week. So make sure to increase the poundage accordingly. I’d say increase the lower body poundages by 10lbs for the Squat and 10 – 20lbs for the Deadlift. Increase the upper body poundages by 5lbs or even 2.5lbs.

For Template B, the recommended poundage increases are the same. But the difference here is this is just Phase One of what will be four phases. Which each phase comes a decrease in the amount of reps per set and, by Phase Four, the sets will increase to order to bring up the volume. If you like this let me know and I’ll write up the other three phases.

Training Tips

Back Extensions

1557628650673 — *Look at the ass on him!*

You might notice that I started every routine with this. Many of you might ask “…but Angry Metalhead, why can’t I do this as an accessory move like everyone else??” Simple, because we’re not training to be like everyone else you asshole! Not only that, but because, as I learned from reading up on Reg Park, training the lower back while it’s fresh loosens and strengthens it. Everyone forgets that training the lower back is as much of Core training as training your abs is.

And as I found out, a strong lower back makes for a much stronger Squat and Deadlift. But hey what the fuck do I know, I just know I once was able to deadlift 380lbs without a belt for a reason. After you get used to the exercise, you can add a mini resistance band to add tension. After that you can also add weight. Or, if you’re pressed for time you can simply just use the mini band and add ten extra reps per set.

One more thing. Guys, make sure you adjust yourself before you perform this move. Take it from me, there’s no feeling more annoying than that of crushing your own balls because you didn’t fix yourself up on the station. Your woman or man or whatever needs you to have healthy nuts guys!

Hip Drive!

Did you really thing that Squats and Deadlift just required strong legs? Fuck no, it’s all about that Hip Drive, as Mark Rippetoe says. All Hip Hinge moves, like the Squat , Deadlift, Back Extensions, etc., require the hips to start AND finish the move. Strong hips make for big numbers. Strong hips also carry over into other aspects of life too. Guys, you want to be absolute fuck machine with your wife/girlfriend/baby mamma/one night stand? Use those hips. Ladies, wanna be a fuck machine and show your husband/boyfriend/baby daddy/one night stand that you can keep up with the thrusting? Use your hips!

Grip Strength

I saved the best for last because I wanted to send a clear message to all of you reading this. I spoke on two separate occasions about grip strength, and the importance of not wearing gloves while performing any exercise or program. Fuck, I even provided a real life depiction of what you look like when you wear gloves in my last article! Gloves do provide protection…but it’s still lamer than wearing a rubber. At least with a rubber you’re trying to avoiding something that might not be wanted right now!

So, to further add to my argument as to why you should NEVER wear gloves to the gym, ladies and germs, meet Sparkles!

Sparkles is a cross dressing manicurist who underwent TWO gender reassignments (he’s very confused). He’s great at bedazzling your nails. His ass looks nice in round in a dress. As you can see in the last picture, he’ll also hold your newborn, mixed race baby! Wanna know what Sparkles can’t do? He can’t deadlift worth a shit. Why? It ain’t from the lack of testosterone in his body – it’s because he wears gloves to the gym.

If you want to see how Sparkles fares trying to pull a measly 145lbs, click on the video above!

This is my vision of you, yes YOU. When I see you wearing gloves I see Sparkles. I see a guy with absolutely no desire whatsoever to be stronger than he or even she knows. I see someone with no desire to to be anything other than average, I could give two shits about how much muscle you have. I didn’t pull more than double my bodyweight because I wore gloves. Don’t be average. Don’t be Sparkles.

Post workout stretching in the next installment.

Lift With Hatred Part 1:

https://metalheadconfessions.com/2019/07/30/lift-with-hatred-the-workout-part-1/

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Lift With Hatred: The Workout – Part 1

Posted on July 30, 2019July 29, 2019 by Mike

I’ve been talking about this for a year. My own training template for beginning lifters, an easy, basic, bullshit free style, thoughtfully put together through many sources plus my experience both as a personal trainer as well as someone who once struggled to the point that all seemed hopeless. Training, regardless of your goals, is much more of a cerebral game than most newbies would realize.

You have to learn the art of Autoregulation, listening to your body to realize what kind of stimuli it will and won’t respond to in terms of exercises and reps and sets and all that bullshit. Speaking of bullshit, be ready to have have all sorts of advice thrown your way by both the ones who actually look like they lift and especially the ones who look more like they just took some program off Bodybuilding.com without doing any real research and just began “working out” a few weeks ago. They’re hilarious! But more important than either of those, is the development of your mental toughness.

The lifts you’ll be performing will be simple, but brutal after a while. You’ll be repeating a lot of these almost every workout and you’ll get bored. You can either just give up because you can’t take the repetition, or you can suck it up, follow the program to the T and reap the rewards later. Yeah, I’m an angry asshole – and lack of patience usually comes with being angry! But I at least understand that Rome wasn’t built in a day either. But hey, what the fuck do I know? I only Deadlift more than double my bodyweight.

Training Philosophy

Why do we Lift With Hatred? What’s your daily life like? Kids? Nagging wife/girlfriend/baby mama? Nagging husband/boyfriend/baby daddy? Feeling disrespected by your boss? Colleagues? Random pieces of shit on the streets who need to be put in their place? They all have one thing in common: it all can get to your head.

Lift With Hatred isn’t “just” some fucking saying I came up with to look awesome. It’s cerebral. It’s emotion. It’s taking all the negativity that you endure throughout your day, and channeling it into something badass, like hitting a squat PR with everything you have. Let’s face it, I’d love to beat the shit out of one or two of my “colleagues” at work…as well as several “family” members; but I also know that I’m not in the mood to go to jail right now.

Lift With Hatred is a way of life. So how exactly do we Lift With Hatred? You look deep into your mind; think about one person who always does you wrong, or your significant other who cheated on you, or that random shithead on the streets you said the wrong thing. Take those feelings of wanting to beat them to the point of near death (the movie Bugsy comes to mind!), and take it out on those weights. Why? Because a powerful physique is far more beneficial than a rap sheet!

The Do’s and Don’ts Of What You’ll Need

I delved into this a little bit in an article called Lift With Hatred: Stupid Shit In The Gym. But here’s is small, ridiculously simple list of what you’ll need to start off – and it’s not much – along with what you definitely won’t need.

Need

Shoes With A Flat Sole

This is often recommended by a lot of reputable coaches and for good reason. In as simple of an explanation as possible, you want to always be able to “split the ground”, or push down against the floor, when performing any compound move. You can’t do that if your shoes don’t allow you feet to be completely on the floor. So most sneakers are out of the question. A flat sole usually provides a bit more traction and allows you to use your posterior chain more, which is crucial for most strength based routines. If you’ve been squatting for a while in sneakers, I guarantee you’ll quickly find out how strong your squat really is once you switch over. I switched over in 2010 and I couldn’t believe how weak I really was (see the Chuck Taylors above!)! There’s also the possibility of tipping over during a heavy squat or deadlift. So you can take my word for it or not. Up to you. Just don’t tell me I didn’t warn you. Recommendations include but are not limited to: Converse Chuck Taylor hi tops, Otomix or Adidas Wrestling Shoes. Don’t worry about getting Adidas Powerlifts, Do-Wins, or anything with a heel until it’s absolutely necessary.

Mini Resistance Bands

Resistance bands in short are fucking amazing. These bands were popularized by those sadistic lunatics over at Westside Barbell long ago, and now everyone and their mother uses them. Why? Constant tension. Advanced and elite level lifters use them at multiple sizes to add weighted tension to lighter percentages of their maxes, because more tension will force you to work faster. Remember, speed is one of the two components of power. But you’ll be using these as a quick warm up for your rear delts before every workout because they’re not only conveniently small enough to carry, but because not every gym has a dowel rod available for a move like Shoulder Dislocations. So for that reason, just order a mini band.

Foam Roller

I first read about foam rollers more than a decade ago in a Men’s Health workout guide that’s I’m pretty sure I still have somewhere; but I’m pretty sure it was Muscle And Fitness that called it “The Poor Man’s Massage”. And it is. It’s also a great way to open up the muscles at the beginning of your warm-up. Does your job require you to sit all day long? You’re hips, lats, pectorals and front delts are probably tighter than your fifteen year old sister, and you’ll know where those tender spots are when you find it. You’ll be yelling “hurts so good!” like the closet submissive that you are in no time!

Lacrosse Ball

Use a Lacrosse ball to massage areas that you might not be able to successfully hit with a foam roller, such as you piriformis and especially your feet.

Don’t Need

Any Kind Of Lifting Belt

Go ahead and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about. Done? Feel better? Great – now go suck me! Now that that’s out of the way…you’re reading this correctly. If you’re just starting ANY routine, you do NOT need a belt of any kind. The purpose of a belt is to provide you with something to push your abs into, allowing the abs to achieve an even harder contraction. But unless you’re squatting or deadlifting more than you weigh, focus on developing your “natural belt”, aka your abs. At one point you’ll need one, but for this beginner’s routine I wouldn’t worry about it.

Almost Every Supplement Out There

Here’s another thing that’ll have people telling me I know nothing. They can still go suck me. Not including protein powder, there’s no need to spend your money on any kind of preworkout, creatine monohydrate, or fat burners. I’m not saying they don’t have they’re place; but if you’re new to training and are thin, you need to eat as if you’re one of the fat slobs slowly marching toward death’s door in Supersize Me, clearly rendering fat burners useless here ((although they don’t really do much at all!). In terms of preworkout, there’s no real need for that much caffeine if you’re just starting with an empty bar. Creatine Monohydrate is arguably the single safest supplement out there, especially in it’s powdered form (which is cheaper yet way more effective than it’s pill form). It retains water in the muscles. Sodium does the same shit. But if you want to use Creatine, I’d recommend at least seeing what kind of muscular foundation you can build without it on your own first. Otherwise, you could just take a tablespoon of sea salt and mix that in a gallon of water.

Gloves

An actual depiction of what you look like when you wear gloves to the gym.

Gloves: GAY. I definitely when on a tirade regarding gloves in the article I mentioned above. But to be short: DO NOT WEAR FUCKING GLOVES. Unless you have nerve damage you don’t need them. Gloves provide a layer between your hands and the bar. Sounds like protection, and it is. But your grip strength won’t develop and it needs to in order for this or any REAL program to work. One of my clients recently bitched when he realized he was developing calluses on his hands, saying when he touched his wife he wanted smooth hands for her. Yeah? You know what your wife would appreciate more? Man hands! So do yourself a favor and ditch the gloves. Actually no…BURN THEM. Or go get a sex change and start calling yourself Sparkles while singing along to this:

The Warm-Up

Here’s a simple warm-up that should take a least ten minutes once you get the hang of everything. For this you’ll need your foam roller and your mini resistance band. Some of the moves you’ll see here I’ve taken from either books I’ve read over the years or things I’ve learned recently. Some of this is taken from the DeFranco Agile 8 (I’ll leave a link below).

Start off by foam rolling your entire body. As I mentioned earlier, some of you might have jobs that require sitting all day. So some of the key joints and limbs here might be real tight. That’s why it’s important to hit EVERYTHING, not just your shoulders, legs and hips. Foam roll your piriformis (or use a lacrosse ball), your pecs, even your biceps (they’re connected to your shoulders after all).
Dynamic Warm-up. Remember when your elementary school gym teacher made you do shit like jumping jacks and jogging in place before actually doing anything? Well they were on to something. Dynamic movements help loosen your muscles, as well as increase your heart rate. Never EVER perform static stretches before working out. Stretching a cold muscle could possibly lead to an injury. This warm-up includes body only movements along with resistance band movements for the rear delts:

Body Only

Side Planks: 20 – 30 seconds per side

Leg Swings: 10 – 15 swings per leg (make sure you feel the stretch in both your quads and your hamstrings depending on the direction)

Groiners: ten reps altogether.

With A Mini Resistance Band

Band Pull Aparts: 8 – 12 reps above the nipple line, followed by 8 – 12 reps below the nipple line (where you’d position the bar for the Bench Press); Banded Shoulder Dislocations: 8 – 12 reps; Band Face Pull With External Rotation: 8 – 12 reps. When I say external rotation, I simply mean that instead of finishing the movement with your fists facing in front of you and over your head, they instead will be facing you as if you’re flexing your biceps, or jerking off two dicks in a bukkake video, or whatever floats your boat.

I’d actually hold off on the resistance band portion of the warm-up until you’re ready to perform any upper body movements. In Part 2 of the workout I’ll be presenting to separate templates for two relatively different goals. But both workouts will be starting with a posterior chain exercise to isolate the lower back and there’s no point, really, in warming up the shoulders to work on your lower back. But that’s just my two sense. Stay tuned for part 2. Feel free to message me with any questions, complaints, death threats, sacrifices, etc.

Buy Shit:

Mini Resistance Bands:

Westside Barbell Mini Band

Foam Rollers:

https://www.amazon.com/TriggerPoint-Roller-Instructional-Original-13-inch/dp/B008YPZQCU

Cheap Yet Highly Effective Weight Lifting Shoes:

https://www.amazon.com/Converse-Mens-Chuck-Taylor-Women/dp/B000OLVPBI/ref=sr_1_4?crid=2Q3JPVWFSXZ7Z&keywords=chuck+taylors&qid=1564284391&s=sporting-goods&sprefix=chuck+%2Csporting%2C136&sr=1-4

My Tirade On Gym Fads:

https://metalheadconfessions.com/2018/09/25/lift-with-hatred-stupid-shit-in-the-gym/

Sources:

https://www.t-nation.com/training/defranco-agile-8

How to Deadlift with Proper Form: The Definitive Guide

https://www.healthline.com/health/fitness-exercise/lacrosse-ball-massage#9

The Return Of GOD: Megadeth – Live At Roseland Ballroom November 10th 2004

Posted on March 24, 2019September 29, 2020 by Mike

I realized that it’s been a long time since I wrote about my concert history, the last time I wrote anything was about my trip to Ozzfest ’04 featuring headliners Slayer, Judas Priest and Black Sabbath…with Rob Halford on vocals. Click here if you never read it:

https://metalheadconfessions.com/2016/06/30/possibly-the-best-ozzfest-lineup-ever-ozzfest-2004-august-26th-2004/

But that left one more concert for that year and it was one I NEVER thought I’d see. Seriously. Never.

A year earlier, Thrash Metal pioneer Dave Mustaine, who had quit Megadeth – his own band – and retired from music over an arm injury, had announced he was coming out of retirement. He’d even gotten himself a brand new endorsement deal with ESP Guitars…which I’d wonder from time to time after that if that was yet another blatant attempt to feel validated by his ex Metallica bandmates, as James Hetfield had been endorsed by them since 1988 and by the way still is. He had announced plans to remix and remaster the entire Megadeth catalogue, which he had actually started in 2001 when he remixed and remastered the band’s 1985 debut Killing Is My Business…And Business Is Good…which really did give the record a fresh pair of raw, drug addled BALLS. Dave also mentioned the idea of recording a solo record that while he’d never tour for, he’d probably perform a small handful of club shows. Or so he thought.

About a year later Mustaine started posting snippets of new recordings and to say the least, they did sound promising. Very promising. This was also following the news that he managed to get former Megadeth guitarist lead guitarist Chris Poland to play on this new record…which was now a Megadeth record by name only due to contractual obligations with his publishing company. Let’s speed this up: he teased us with the release of three songs that sounded fucking great. Later in the year he released The System Has Failed, featuring those three songs as the opening three tracks. After that it’s such a fucking shitfest. From a musician’s standpoint the guitar tones were so fucking WEAK due to Mustaine playing an old Marshall Plexi, which is NOT the appropriate amp to play his style of music to begin with. Second of all, I understood that this was recorded as a solo record before Mustaine was forced to make it a Megadeth record, so I expected to hear a musical departure of sorts. But this whole album minus the first three songs was just lame. Oh, and if you’re reading this and you happen to be one of the jackasses that proclaimed that The System Has Failed was the “best album since Rust In Peace!”, you should jump in front of an 18 wheeler yesterday. Thanks.

Around the time of the album’s release Dave appeared on Friday Night Rocks with Eddie Trunk to discuss everything that was happening from the album’s release to his MAJOR fallout with co-founder/bassist David Ellefson to Ellefson, Marty Freidman and Nick Menza – the classic Rust In Peace lineup – all refusing to join him on this comeback tour. But when he gave Eddie the list of tour dates he said the New York City on November 10th was a possibility (he couldn’t remember for sure at the time) I knew to save the date. Yeah the “comeback” record was weak but this allegedly was going to be the last time Dave Mustaine went on the road under the Megadeth banner so I didn’t give a shit. I had worshiped this guy since high school and some of my own guitar technique were taken from him. There was NO WAY I was missing this.

Tickets were pretty cheap at $36 each so I bought tickets for the guys in my band at the time: Idrees and Chad (who never paid me back). Our newest addition to the band, our drummer Chris, met us there with his girlfriend Shari and her sister Marissa, who was actually the music director of my college radio station at the time, along with her boyfriend Vin. Marissa claimed to be a big Megadeth fan but as she’d admit to later on, she was nothing more than a poser. I loved her to death – and she also had a great pair of titties! – but don’t call yourself a big fan of ANY band if you only have two albums from that band.

We arrived at the now-defunct Roseland Ballroom, close to the Ed Sullivan Theater in Manhattan, looking so 80’s it was hilarious, myself wearing a leather jacket with my denim vest over it and leather gloves with my dog chain that I still have. I had already learned that I’d rather wear just a plain, black shirt instead of any band shirt in order to avoid random losers interrogating me on love of said band and telling me stories I could honestly give two shits about. As we all walked in, the opening band, Exodus were playing. This was weird to see only because they had JUST released a new album, Tempo Of The Damned, only for longtime vocalist Steve “Zetro” Sousa to quit shortly after. So who was singing for him? Steev from Skinlab…who was doing way too much to try to look like Phil Anselmo circa 1996, between the undershave haircut (Idrees called it the Vagina Haircut), the leather cuffs, the short sleeve flannel shirt, the green cargo shorts and his tendency to always bend down to scream…which by the way Phil stole from Henry Rollins.

In between bands, as Megadeth were next, Idrees was approached by this muscular, 16 year old kid with glasses, who apparently met him in a pit during an Overkill show at the also now-defunct B.B. King’s. After they shared a few words the boy turned to me and said he knew me too. I was very confused; between his physique and the glasses I was sure he had to have mistaken me for someone else, until he reminded me that he met me at my former music store were I was still taking lessons at the time, and that he had approached me when he heard me playing the Megadeth song “Sweating Bullets” on an acoustic guitar. That was two years earlier and I had not seen him in that long a time so the fact that he remembered me was impressive. Nonetheless we were both stoked to see each other. We’d wind up hanging out together almost frequently for the next four years after this night but that almost didn’t happen and here’s why!

The lights went out, the crowds lost their shit as Ice T’s “Shut Up, Be Happy” began blaring through the speakers…

One by one, the current touring lineup Mustaine put together for this tour start to walk out on stage: drummer Shawn Drover, ex-Iced Earth bassist James MacDonough, guitarist Glen Drover. There’s wall of sick looking Marshall cabinets on the stage with a drum kit that looks a LOT like something Nick Menza would’ve played. After a minute of two…you could hear the sounds of another guitar playing the beginning of “Set The World Afire” from 1988’s So Far, So Good…So What!. That’s when Dave Mustaine finally walked out on stage, chugging away on his guitar. At that moment I felt a foot come out of nowhere, kicking me right in the fucking nose, making me bleed. Then the entire crowd were to become one gigantic mosh pit, meaning Rob and I, as quickly as we were reunited, were being forcefully pushed apart. We tried to grab on to each other but this crowd was understandably way too violent to try and overcome unless I really wanted broken bones to go with the bloody nose.

The band pulled out the classics on after another, starting with “Afire” and kicking right into “Skin ‘O’ My Teeth” into “Wake Up Dead”, which is when shit REALLY got out of hand. Then again, if you know ANYTHING about Megadeth I shouldn’t have to tell you that “Wake Up Dead” is essentially that one song meant just for moshing once the band gets into that middle riff after Dave’s first solo. And that was immediately followed by “In My Darkest Hour”. The band were really able to hold there own, although I always thought Shawn Drover was the least dynamic drummer in Megadeth’s entire history. Mustaine, however was surprising. He’d retired because he couldn’t even move his arm thanks to this bizarre injury he acquired and more than two years later he’s absolutely ripping it up as if nothing happened to him! It honestly made me and probably a few others rather suspicious as to the actual severity of his injury. But that’s a story for another time.

Here’s the setlist:

Set The World Afire

Skin ‘O’ My Teeth

Wake Up Dead

In My Darkest Hour

Something That I’m Not

Angry Again

Of Mice And Men

Reckoning Day

A Tout Le Monde

Die Dead Enough

Tornado Of Souls

Kick The Chair

Hangar 18

Sweating Bullets

Symphony Of Destruction

Back In The Day (featuring Exodus near the end of the song)

Peace Sells…But Who’s Buying?

Encore:

Holy Wars…The Punishment Due

At the end of the set, and after the band walked off the stage, Dave Mustaine walked back on for second. “Thank you…for believing in me!”, he yelled out, before walking off for good. As I said earlier, this was allegedly going to be the last time he toured not just under the Megadeth banner, but at all. This would go on for another several months, and on to his first ever attempt at a festival gig, which I did go to. But that’s for another article.

I no longer remember much about what happened after I left the building with my band, but I can only assume I bumped into Rob again and I’m sure we had to have finally exchanges numbers, either outside the building or on the ferry heading home. He’d tag along with Idrees and I to see Megadeth in New Jersey two years later. What I do remember, however, was driving not home, but to my Dad’s house after I was dropped off by ferry. It was almost 2am; I knew that it’d be way easier to sleep there than home, where my jackass brother and mother were most likely fighting even that late at night. I totally skipped my Astronomy class the following afternoon, having woken up around the time the class had just started, I think. No regerts. None. But my radio show was that afternoon so I did have to head to campus whether I like it or not. The show’s opener that afternoon?

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Album Of The Year 2018

Posted on December 28, 2018 by Mike

I know what you’re thinking. There are a few albums I could’ve easily picked to be my top pick for this year’s Album Of The Year pick. Hate Eternal and High On Fire both came out with new albums. Fuck, speaking of Matt Pike and High On Fire, his previous band, Sleep, released a comeback album that some of you are STILL fisting yourselves to! And that’s fine…but I can give two shits because Alice In Chains came back with an amazingly, dark, depressing, desolate new album. I’m talking better than 2013’s The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here by fucking far!

Oh sure, I was already excited since I’ve worshiped this band and especially Jerry Cantrell for half my life now; but then I heard the opening single:

Well holy shit. Just go straight to that chorus line and I can swear the music sounds like it could’ve fit beautifully on the band’s 1995 self titled album. In fact, a major portion of Rainier Fog sounds very much like it would’ve fit right in on the aforementioned self titled album. And as it turns out, the band decided to take trip back to the past to get the right aura for recording my Album Of The Year.

The band set up camp back in Seattle at Studio X, former Bad Animals Studios, which Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart owned between 1991 and 1997 and as actually named after their their 1987 album of the same name (this was when Heart were 80s sellouts playing shit arena rock). Bad Animals is where the band recorded their self titled album, sadly their last with the late Layne Staley on vocals. So needless to say, if you believe in ghosts, you just might here one of two on here.

The product of this return to their roots of sorts is such a fucking downer. It’s so depressing it’s beautiful. Gone are a lot of the Heavy Metal aspects of their previous album and especially their 2009 masterpiece of a comeback album, Black Gives Way To Blue; but there is still a shit ton of Doom all around, providing the proverbial atmosphere of a perennial rainy day. Make no mistake though, Rainier Fog is still heavy as balls, still an exercise in Sabbath worship.

Tracks such as “The One You Know”, “Rainier Fog”, Cantrell’s tribute to the Seattle scene, “Red Giant”, “Drone” and “Never Fade”, the second single from the album, prove Alice are still the very definition of a modern day Black Sabbath…and that Cantrell is still a GOD. These tracks in particular are the closest to being “grungy” as the band has sounded in 23 years, with slow, crushing riffs, drums that supply the groove yet still let the songs breath, and those vocal harmonies. It can’t be made anymore obvious that whether William DuVall is singing or Jerry himself, Jerry is truly the mastermind behind some of these virtually morbid vocal arrangements. Only Alice In Chains could ever make me want to kill myself through beautifully depressing harmonies! In fact, I feel like “The One You Know” can be like the sequel to “Grind”! And “Drone” is truly a Sabbath Worship song in just about every way. The chorus line is especially depression as Cantrell sings “I’ll stay here and feed my pet black hole…”.

Speaking of Sabbath Worship, “Deaf Ears Blind Eyes”, is as doomy as it gets. It’s main, single note guitar lines could’ve easily been used on Master Of Reality. But what will really grab your attention is Cantrell’s haunting vocal arrangement. Clearly a song about what happens when you let anxiety run your life, I had to do a double take and make sure I wasn’t listening to a 90’s recording with Layne on vocals because it sure sounded like it! It’s probably one of to more lyrically profound tracks on here as Cantrell sings “feel like a fake thing/where did the time go?/Memories worth making/pass by the window…”.

On the other end of the Sabbath Worship is “So Far Under”, the one song solely penned by DuVall…who clearly has spent way too much time with Cantrell. That bending note in the chorus is essentially the “seasick riff” Cantrell used on “Check My Brain”, hence why it can be easily to immediately think Cantrell wrote it. Oh sure, the lyrics may be some of the most positive on Rainier Fog, but his solo (his not Jerry’s!) screams Tony Iommi and the chorus just happens to bring you r right back down…and seasick.

As for the lighter tracks on here, “Fly” is essentially the sequel to “Over Now”. I don’t know how else to put it. Here…just listen for yourself:

And “Maybe” is literally a tour de force of what Jerry and William are capable of as a vocal duo. They’ve become so good at it in the last nine years that at times it can be hard to figure out who the fuck is singing what. It’s yet another song about loneliness but their singing will make you want to embrace it in such a romantic way. If you think I’m nuts after reading that line you’re not an Alice In Chains fan.

Oh, and speaking of loneliness, the most depressing, emotionally draining song on here clearly had to be saved for last. “All I Am” is sad as fuck from the first atmospheric pulse as it cuts through the ending to “Never Fade”. It’s hard to really say what the hell Jerry is talking about here. But I can only assume it’s about someone who’s so damaged from drug use that he can’t even recognize himself anymore. Would that be too much of a surprise? Let’s not forget that drugs nearly decimated this band with Layne’s tragic death sixteen years ago to heroin and cocaine. Everyone in this band were all guilty. AS I mentioned in my review of Dirt, Jerry was drinking heavily and taking Xanax during the sessions for it. I just know that when I heard it, I imagine someone on a raft, struggling to stay afloat as he’s being rushed through rapids, rain teaming down in him. The final result? Does he survive and rise above? Does he drown? It’s all up to you, the listener. I just know that if you want an album that makes you feel every negative, suicidal emotion you can, Rainier Fog is your go to album.

Lift With Hatred

Posted on July 4, 2018July 8, 2018 by Mike

Powerlifting is an external view of how pissed off at the world I really am. – Kirk Karwoski

The title of this article…if you follow me on Instagram you see this hashtag attached to all my training related videos. But let it be known now: I didn’t come up with it just for the sake of having a hashtag or to have several thousand followers. I have nowhere near that. It’s a literal way of life for me. I’m not Kirk Karwoski; but much like him, Powerlifting is definitely an extension of how pissed off I really am.

This guy was just a psycho. In his prime, if he came to the gym and someone was at his squat rack, he’d give them a five minute warning. If the unlucky fuck wasn’t done yet, Kirk would take their shit and throw it to the side and force them out!

At 34 years old, at a time where most people begin to soften with age, I’ve just become colder. Friends? I have so few of them, especially now. Honestly, fuck ’em, don’t need ’em. Playing in bands? More like sixteen years of my life I can never get back. Family? Oh, lets not go there. Work? Let’s REALLY not go there! The ONLY thing I want to do is lift heavy shit. That’s my only relief from the day.

Fuck Your Commercial Gym

The Deadlift. THE single most macho lift anyone can do in their gym…if their gym doesn’t give them shit for it. In fifteen years I’ve trained in just six gyms. One was my college weight room, three of them were commercial and the other two including my current gym are badass gyms with the type of vibe you can only get in a smaller, more intimate setting. Up until last year, no commercial gym ever gave me shit for the way I trained – or even for the clothes I wore to the gym!

Then came this boy scout manager, who claimed he understood me since he himself was a pretty big guy and even complimented my Bev Francis Powerhouse Gym t-shirt. While being given the tour of the place, the much nicer manager who was showing him around asked me to be “kinder” to her floors. Little did she understand that the plates were rubber coated so they’d never break her floors. And before anyone asks: no, I wasn’t slamming the weights.

Regardless, that clearly left an impression on him. He came up to me a week later, looking like he was dry humping his imaginary girlfriend while I was deadlifting before belittling me, lecturing me on proper form like I was some fucking idiot. We almost went to blows right away. I realize instantaneously that he planned on using me to make a name for himself and I wasn’t going to let that shit happen. It was his first official day on the job. A week later, I decided to train wearing jeans and boots, something I’ve done from time to time ever since I’ve been training. This dumb son of a bitch asked me if I had any other clothes and, when I said I didn’t, told me hesitantly that I then had to leave. Why? Because the rivets – the ones I didn’t have on these jeans – would rip up the pleather on the already shitty Hammer Strength benches. I asked him to just let me go with a warning and I’d never do it again, as I had just gotten into my warmup.

Two minutes later, I found myself angrily sitting in my car, knowing for sure that my days at this “gym” were numbered. No one had EVER kicked me out for wearing jeans and boots before, or even given me a warning. Luckily for me, I already knew exactly where I wanted to hang my hat next. The problem was I was low on cash, meaning I’d have to wait a while. I endured two more months of walking on eggshells and even coming close to a confrontation with a trainer there, who I really liked and still do, over my “slamming the weights”.

So what the fuck am I driving at? If you’re like me the gym has to feel like a home, not some fucking social club. It’s okay to make friends. Fuck, I’ve met amazing people in EVERY gym I’ve ever trained in. But if you’re like me, you’re dedicated to acheiving shit that most peole could never dream of. That means you put on those earbuds if you really have to, and you tune out the rest of the world. That means all your focus is going to be on that set, your rep goal, whatever. You’re going to make sure you give it all you got, with all the intensity you can. Is it so heavy you might scream a bit? Go ahead, fucking do it! If anyone is dumb enough to say shit, it’s most likely because they’re too chicken shit to try it.

Make sure your gym is not only welcoming of all kinds of lifters, but TOLERANT. That usually means get the fuck out of your commercial chain gym that can have all the equipment you can ever need, but mostly relies on cardio bunnies for their revenue. Does that one guy that can pull four plates do the robot in between his sets? You need to get the fuck out of there now! That means being in a gym with all lifters – male and female – who know that THE way to get in shape is to not just eat right, but to focus on the three greatest lifts you can do: the squat, the bench and the deadlift. I’ve gotten more muscle mass doing those than I ever did doing just shrugs or leg presses (even though leg presses are part of my current routine).

To me, the gym is the one place where I can express myself. Where I am now, I can lift the way I want, how I want, when I want, with as much intensity as I want and I’ll never be given a hard time for it. Lifting is the one time in my day where I can get out all of that negative energy – and believe me, there’s so much of it! – without anyone else getting hurt. I lift with hatred because that’s my one source of strength. I lift with hatred because that’s all I know. This is not a game. I don’t do this for “fun”; I do it because I need to.

I’m leaving you with my one of my spotify Gym playlists:

Maybe one of these tracks will give YOUR workout a swift kick in the ass.

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The Official Demise Of A Musical Dynasty: In Memory Of Vinnie Paul

Posted on June 28, 2018July 2, 2018 by Mike

It was early this past Saturday morning, around 2am, when I got up to take a quick piss. I looked on my phone for shits and giggles and saw that I friend of mine posted something, captioning “holy shit!” above it. It was a the Billboard article announcing that former Pantera/Hell Yeah drummer Vinnie Paul was dead at 54. I thought I was just tired; but after a few minutes I realized that this was in fact reality. There were no facts at the times, all that mattered was that one of the greatest of all time was gone.

The facts, since then, have slowly started to become known. We now know that he died in his sleep in his Las Vegas home (booze and strippers, duh!), and of a heart attack. According to the Las Vegas police, there were no signs of foul play. Then today came the news that, just like his late brother, he’ll be buried beside him and their mother…in a KISS coffin. Of course it’ll take some time for the toxicology report to come out. I don’t want this to focus too much on his well publicized lifestyle here. But let’s face it: despite his machine like intensity on the drums, he never seemed to burn too many calories. That’s most likely because he never slowed down the drinking. I mean fuck me did this guy and his brother, the late Dimebag Darrell, know how to party or what??

As I said before, I’m not here to discuss what everyone else is bound to write about. I’m going to talk about why this son of a bitch from Arlington, TX will forever have a spot as one of the greatest drummers of all time.

So what the fuck makes a musician one of the best? That person is able to make himself recognizable in songwriting style, technique, skill and sound. That guy has to be able to make himself stand out. From non metal guys like Stewart Copeland and Phil Collins (yeah, Phil Collins was a drum god at one point!) to hard rock drummers such as John Bonham to Vinnie’s own idol, Alex Van Halen, each of the guys I mentioned had the ability to make themselves easily distinguishable because they possessed all the qualities I just mentioned. Vinnie, along with his brother, clearly knew this early on. And while it would take three independently recorded albums before they were signed to their first deal, the wait would be worth it, because they, along with Rex Brown and Phil Anselmo, created a new sub genre of Metal, making them the single most important Heavy Metal band of the nineties. Pantera were to be the band that single handed SAVED Metal during the rise of the Grunge scene, and later Alternative music.

Starting with their fourth album, 1990’s Cowboys From Hell, Pantera burst out like a goddamn raging bull with tracks such as the title track, “Psycho Holiday”, “Heresy” and everyone’s excuse to mosh, “Domination”. There are other classics on there that I could’ve named just now but I chose the ones I just mentioned because those tracks are filled with an extraordinarily seamless combination of interlocking with…groove?? Oh yeah, Vinnie never lost the groove no matter how mechanical or technical those tracks were. He’d explain years later that, while he respected drummers with fast left hands (think blast beats), he was more concerned about making people move.

1992’s Vulgar Display Of Power saw Pantera develop a much edgier sound all around. I mean they were already edgy, but starting here the band were starting to sound more like the soundtrack to a fist fight! Between Phil’s rougher vocal delivery to Diamond Darrell…as he was unfortunately still calling himself at the time…downtuning his guitar and those drums. Unlike most Thrash bands, Pantera were not JUST about precision and speed. Vinnie Paul as a drummer was more than JUST an anchor. He knew when to keep it tight and he also knew when to let loose and just go with the shuffle:

With tracks such as this one above, and “No Good (Attack The Radical)”, you started to hear Vinnie’s creativity. There are syncopated rhythms in “No Good” that sounded so new. They’d also be the basis for shitty nu metal bands later on but I’ll get to that soon.

1994’s Far Beyond Driven. Without question it’s THE most important album in Pantera’s history. Why? Because it debut at No. 1 on the Billboard charts. No Metal band before Pantera had EVER pulled that off before and now no one could EVER take that away from them. It is also the HEAVIEST album to EVER debut at No. 1. With the opening track, “Strength Beyond Strength”, your ass is kicked immediately. It’s one big explosion and Vinnie’s much louder, much more POWERFUL drums are taking full charge. Sounded like Vinnie had done some tinkering in the studio, both with his drum kit, as well as with the mixing board. I mean goddamn – just listen to this fucking track!!!

I said earlier that to be the best you had to find your own sound among other things and Vinnie’s drums sounded so much deeper than on any other album up to this point. Turns out he in fact was tuning his heads real low…like almost to the point of being loose. And those bass drums! They sound so triggered. But as the story goes, while in the studio, Vinnie used wooden beaters in the studio and also taped quarters on his bass heads, right at the spot where the beaters would make contact. The result was a clicky, yet stronger, clearer, more powerlful bass drum. It’d also set the tone for the way many other, far more extreme Metal bands would record in the years to come.

If his brother, who was finally going by Dimebag at this point, was to be my generation’s Eddie Van Halen, then Vinnie was to be my generation’s Alex. Both were brothers, both played together for so long that they could read each other’s minds with ease. They both understood each other. But on the downside, Alex, amazing as he was, was clearly destined to be overshadowed by his game changing brother. Vinnie would be no different. Dime’s playing and his SOUND were a MASSIVE game changer at this time, and rightfully so. But every guitarist, bassist, or even singer are only as good as their drummer. Eddie would’ve been just some asshole who taps had it not been for Alex. Dime would’ve probably just been a guy with a scooped sound and a whammy bar had it not been for Vinnie.

Take for example “13 Steps To Nowhere” off 1996’s The Great Southern Trendkill. This unmistakably is THE darkest, most intense album in Pantera’s entire discography – and my personal favorite! It’s a headbanger for sure, very Sabbath inspired with just enough technicality to justify it as old school to the core. It sounds like Vinnie here perfected the trigger sound on his bass drums, and found just the right EQ setting for his low tuned toms, as they cascade from high to low before Phil’s fucked up verses. Right in the middle, the Sabbath moment takes over as the song breaks down beautifully, allowing Vinnie’s drums to breathe. You hear every nuance, every reverberation, every BOOM. It’s pure destruction. It’s so sexy.

Then a problem arose in the music world. In the four years between the release of ‘Trendkill and their final album, 2000’s Reinventing The Steel. Starting with KoRn, actually going back to ’94, several “Nu” bands came along and tried to focus strictly on groove. The guitarists all had a scooped sound, they all tuned down lower than even Dime thanks to the revival of seven string guitars; the drummers were playing nothing but snycopations, especially shit bands like Disturbed; and the singers all wore green shorts like Phil and were all just angry without a cause (well to be fair Jonathan Davis was apparently molested as a kid). Unfortunately, Pantera were to get the blame for this, as most of these fuckers freely cited Vulgar as a major influence.

But the biggest problem with all those fuckfaces – and the biggest reason music SUCKED in the early 2000’s – was that they completely missed the point. Pantera as a band, and as individual musicians, took close to a decade to perfect their sound. Did any of them understand that Dime and Vinnie were insanely talented musicians since they were kids? Did any of those retards know that Pantera started out in 1983 as a GLAM band?? Oh it’s true. It took years for them to develop into a harder sounding band. It also took the drive to always want every album to be better and better. Thanks to their refusal to truly do their homework – and actually learn to play their instruments – these Nu/Rap Metal pieces of shit chose to just be followers…and ultimately forgettable. Thankfully.

After the break up of Pantera in 2003, Vinnie and Dime went on to form Damageplan. Their sole album, 2004’s New Found Power, was a major change in their sound. The brothers wanted to try something new and while I surely wasn’t a fan of all the track on the record, I understood that this was an experiment and perhaps things would change. I was however a fan of a the beyond sludgy “Moment Of Truth”. It’s so slow, so heavy and it allowed Vinnie to sound like nothing short of a fucking jackhammer.

Unfortunately, as we all know, that second album would never happen, as Dime was gruesomely murdered before years end while on stage.

Vinnie stayed away from the public for a few years afterward. His final band would be Hell Yeah. I’ll be honestly. I don’t mean to disrespect Vinnie, but he could’ve done so much better than joining a “supergroup” with the assholes from Nothing Face and Madvayne. If he enjoyed himself, then hey good for him. But I personally found Hell Yeah to be so beneath what he was capable of.

His unexpected death last Friday marked the end of en era, and a musical dynasty. If you’re new to this blog you’re expecting me to say some shit like “he’s with Dime now”. Not here. I’m athiest. I don’t believe that shit. But with his death, gone are the one family that were as successful and ultimately as influential as they were playing this kind of music. No one before the Abbott brothers could pull it off and no two brothers have repeated it just yet. Vinnie Paul alone changed the game with his signature sound, and many drummers will say that they started playing because of Vinnie Paul. In fact, while in the middle of writing this I stopped to write a new Spotify playlist, featuring my favorite Vinnie Paul moments in Pantera and even Damageplan.

To end this I’m going to leave you with the very first Pantera video I ever watched back in 1996 on an episode of Beavis and Butthead.

Rest In Peace Vincent Paul Abbott 1964 – 2018

Confessions of an Angry Metalhead

Tag: “Heavy Metal”

Random Memories of Trevor

My Take On Metallica’s Being A Band.

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

Random Thoughts

Lift With Hatred: The Workout – Part 2

Lift With Hatred: The Workout – Part 1

The Return Of GOD: Megadeth – Live At Roseland Ballroom November 10th 2004

Album Of The Year 2018

Lift With Hatred

The Official Demise Of A Musical Dynasty: In Memory Of Vinnie Paul