Slayer!

Just like the Jesus and Mary Chain, we saw Slayer this week.  Unlike the Jesus and Mary Chain, they ruled.  That is to say, they did not suck, which is exactly what the Jesus and Mary Chain did (suck).  Slayer are on of the big four thrash metal bands, and from my point of view is really the only one with any credibility at this point.  Based on Reba's initial feedback, Metallica may be able to redeem itself with their new record, but I'm reserving judgement, especially after that last terrible album they did. 

The show was just what one would hope: a knucklehead festival.  Where these people come from, I have no idea, but somehow Slayer brings out the dumbest, trashiest, most ADD riff raff wherever they go in the world.  How was I to know that the frizzy long combed out hair, dirty little moustache, and jeans jacket look adopted by suburban American white trash everywhere in the 1980s (but maybe a bit more in the south, Julie?) was alive and well at the London Hammersmith Apollo?  There were skinheads, crazed-eye brawlers, slutty dumb looking "goth" chicks, bikers, and my favorite: headbangers.  What's a headbanger?  As you might suspect, there is an over analytical wikipedia article that prattles on about the subject, but in the simplest sense, it is someone with long hair that is banging their head back and forth, to and fro, (or even in a figure 8 configuration, ala Tom Araya, bassist and lead singer for Slayer) with the effect of their long hair flipping all over the place.  You used to see lots of people doing this in the 80s, but it's a bit rare now.  Except at slayer concerts.  I remember watching a bunch of these guys from afar at the show, and then getting a waft of hair conditioner smell.  Turning around, I discovered that I had my very own headbanger!  I gave the little guy enough room to do his thing, and returned to watching the band.  In my view, this miscreant suffers all forms of indignity, job discrimination, female repulsion, rejection at posh restaurants, parental disapproval, etc., just so he can have his moment of glory at the Friday night metal show.  Who am I to rob him of this?  Hell, if I could grow any hair on my head, I might be inclined to grow it long myself!

Also out in force were the old people.  That is to say, people like me.  Reba and I found a relaxed corner of the club in which many people our age and older were stood slightly apart from one another, enjoying minor-level rock outs of their own.  Reba calls this the "nerdsection".  These people had naturally bald heads (i.e. non skinhead), polo shirts, glasses, paunches, and the rest.  The mayhem in the slam-pit at center stage was not anything I wanted to sample.

As for slayer, they too are old, fat, and even one of them, Kerry King, is bald.  For Mr. King this must have been a real crisis.  Against all odds, he became an internationally famous, grammy-winning rock star, and then lost his hair!  He has compensated by tattooing his head and growing a slender but absurdly long beard, which he headbangs in a fashion by shaking his head back and forth in a very aggressive "no" configuration.  Frankly, he looks for all the world like a World of Warcraft dwarf, stout, tattooed, bald, goofy beard, and wearing some crazy medieval S/M-ish clothing.  All he needs to do is trade in his axe (metal-speak for guitar) for a real one, and he'll be off to storm the gates of Mordor or whatever.

But the music!  At the end of the day, you can make all the fun in the world of Slayer's fans, their hair, and their anachronistic subculture, ad nauseam, but they still kick ass!  Their music is as fast, brutal, and emotive as ever.  They are tight and precise live, and have all the anger on stage that comes across so effectively in their studio albums.  Their songs are frankly scary, and a couple on numbers from 1986's "Reign in Blood" (voted "heaviest album of all time" by Kerrang! magazine) stand the hairs up on the back of my neck.  These boys did not disappoint.

 

dwarven warrior or rock star?