Sometimes it’s hard for me to suppress my headbanging roots. My friend Craig isn’t any help as every time a classic thrash band comes through town he inevitably buys two tickets, looks at me with his big brown eyes and says, “But dude…I don’t have anyone else to go with.” So there I am, rocking like it’s 1989.

The so-called “American Carnage Tour” (*sigh*) was supposed to come through town back in February, but was delayed due to Slayer’s Tom Araya having back surgery, giving me a stay of execution for around six months. But it wouldn’t be delayed forever – you can’t stop metal, you know – and Saturday night there I was, pushing my way down a smelly corridor, making my way to my seat in the balcony of the Roy Wilkins Auditorium in downtown St. Paul, about to settle in for nearly four hours of classic thrash. And yes, I said “seat”. I’m thirty-four years old, have two kids, and am about as interested in participating in a mosh pit as I am attending a Justin Bieber concert; which is to say not at all.

In all fairness to the genre and the bands involved, I do hold a soft spot in my heart for thrash metal, if only out of nostalgia. Plus, surviving a Slayer concert just seems like a “bucket list” activity, doesn’t it? I touched on the subject earlier in my Big Four of Thrash article, and after having experienced a taste of it in the safety of a movie theater, seeing it live was too much to resist.

As I took my seat in the dingy auditorium known mostly for boxing events and broken seats, the lights went down. I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and prepared myself…
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Travel back in time with me…

The year was 1990, and I was fourteen years old, living in a small town in Central Wisconsin. I had been learning how to play drums for two years and had just joined my first band. So in short: an adolescent boy and all that entails, mixed with middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin. Got all that? Elsewhere, Metallica had recently released their …And Justice for All album, along with their first ever video for MTV. Dave Mustaine’s Megadeth had just released their masterwork Rust in Peace, and – almost simultaneously – Anthrax put out the brilliant Persistence of Time and Slayer released their seminal Seasons in the Abyss.

You still following? Okay, let’s put all this together…

Impressionable-teen-wannabe-musician + the culmination of thrash metal. Yeah, my life was changed.

There’s something about the genre that speaks to my most primal and base instincts. Twenty years have passed, and I’m now an “adult”, father of two. Yet every time I hear Charlie Benante pound out the thunderous opening of “Time”, the fourteen year-old inside of me can’t help but raise the devil horns to the sky and whisper, “Aw, fuck yes!”

Metal is a curious genre, always lurking just below the thick crust of popular music and rarely ever poking through. In fact, the years of 1990 – 1993 are the closest it ever got to mass acceptance, what with Metallica’s “Black” album, Megadeth’s Countdown to Extinction, and Anthrax’s Sound of White Noise. Each of those albums featured shorter, simpler songs, which seemed designed to appeal to a wider audience. But even then, it only lasted a short while. Megadeth and Anthrax wandered aimlessly for the next decade, while Metallica went on to greater fame and fortune through their newfound “metal-lite” formula, only recently remembering what it was that made them great. And, it seems, along with that revelation, also came the realization that, “Hey! People still love that music!” And it’s true: though never really seeing any success on the charts, each of these bands enjoys huge popularity throughout the world, selling out clubs, theaters, and even arenas wherever they go.

Thus: The Big Four of Thrash tour.

The story goes like this: Last year, Metallica was inducted into the Hall of Fame. For the celebration, they flew out all their friends who helped them get to where they are, including members of the other “Big Four” bands. Apparently, all the nostalgia got to Lars Ulrich (Metallica’s drummer), and he floated the idea of doing a full-blown tour with the Big Four. It took some doing, but nearly a year later, the idea finally came to fruition with some dates in Europe and Australia.

But what about the States, where this movement was born? Apparently, they’re still working on that. But, in the meantime, they found a way to show the Sofia, Bulgaria concert in movie theaters all around the country through Fathom Events. The first showing was on Tuesday, with an encore presentation on Thursday, which I was able to attend. The footage was (mostly) uncut, featuring – in order – Anthrax, Megadeth, Slayer, and Metallica, with short behind-the-scenes footage in between. Let’s break it down…
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You’ll understand why I’m posting this video after you hear this week’s podcast. Beyond that, it’s just fucking hilarious.

Hm, that new Mario game came out, huh? That looks like something for the family. I don’t really have one of those things, so I’m out. To give you a proper send off and well-wishing, let’s revisit the fourth stage of many Mario 1 worlds, only it’s not for families:

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Again for your listening pleasure, we present Act 3 in Stereo for your rocking pleasure. And rock you shall as the Spacebot goes hardcore.

He warned the Captain, but still he gloated and lived. But the Spacebot is unwavering in his programmed disdain for the human race and the angry flame of their destruction rages in his cold circuit filled heart.

As his destructive flight takes him to Silver City, the empty reaches of space are filled with the chant of “Burn, Burn, Burn”.

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One day in 1986, John Heyn and Jeff Krulik took a video camera and a microphone to the Capital Center parking lot in Maryland to capture footage of metal fans before a Judas Priest/Dokken concert. The result was a comedy goldmine.

I first saw Heavy Metal Parking Lot about eight years ago. A friend and I were having some drinks at legendary Minneapolis nightclub First Avenue, seated at the bar while we waited for Mudhoney to take the stage. We arrived a few hours early to hang out, have some drinks, and enjoy the pre-show entertainment that First Avenue often puts on. That day, a movie screen descended from the top of the stage and played the approximately twenty-minute rockumentary Heavy Metal Parking Lot. It was one of the most hilarious pieces of film I had ever seen.

The genius of Heavy Metal Parking Lot is that the filmmakers simply let the camera roll and allowed the action to come to them. From time to time they ask simple questions like, “Who are you here to see tonight?” or “Have you ever been to a metal concert before?”. But for the most part, the partying fans were all too eager to get some camera time and declare their love for metal and Judas Priest.

As mentioned, the running time is right around twenty minutes, making the DVD purchase a little questionable, even at $11. But for the DVD release the filmmakers packed a ton of special features, the most interesting of which is the Parking Lot Reunion segment, where they track down a handful of folks who were featured in the movie. Some of these people turned out just as you’d imagine, while others, most notably “Zebraman”, is remarkably normal and well-adjusted in stark contrast to his 1986 self.

Also included in the special features are sequels to Heavy Metal Parking Lot: Monster Truck Parking Lot, Neil Diamond Parking Lot, and Harry Potter Parking Lot. These are mildly humorous, but again, the genius behind Heavy Metal Parking Lot is that filmmakers just let the camera roll. In these sequels, they seem to be feeding questions to the fans in an attempt to force some laughs. It works in some cases, but nothing beats the original.

Heavy Metal Parking Lot can be found for free in its entirety online at various sources, but if you wind up enjoying it and want to see more, the DVD is a great buy and the perfect bit of entertainment to pull out at parties or for your metalhead friends. Admittedly, part of the allure for me is realizing the similarity between the fans on the film and some of the wackos I grew up with in Central Wisconsin. Seeing the Cameros, Trans Ams, spandex, and big hair I get a warm feeling of…home. And that’s just fucking scary.

The first band I was in began in junior high. A couple of friends and I had been kicking around the idea of starting a band, but we never had the impetus to really get going until we met a twelve year-old kid named Nathan Annis. While Nate was only twelve, at his early age he embodied everything about the rock and metal scene of the time. He had a mane of long red hair, was as thin as a rail, lived in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, and played guitar like a motherfucker. Seriously, for a self-taught kid out out of the sticks, this guy was impressive. He had an Arbor guitar shaped like a Gibson Explorer and could do all the neat-o wank-rock stuff that impressed the die hard rock fans of the day. And the first time I met him, as he stood in our make-shift practice space puffing on a GPC cigarette and ripping through Metallica’s Seek and Destroy, I knew we had found our guy.

It was this imagery that ran through my head last Sunday night just after The Sword took the stage at the Wells Fargo Arena as the opening act for Metallica. The band sauntered on the stage wearing beat up jeans, old t-shirts and tennis shoes, grabbed their instruments and rocked the roof off the place. I looked at each of them and thought, “These guys look like they drive Cameros, smoke GPCs, and live in a trailer in Irma, Wisconsin. This is a band Nate would have been in!”

Despite their appearance, The Sword is not from Central Wisconsin, rather hailing from Austin, Texas, which is apparently the home to more kick ass bands than any other city in the United States. Who knew? Their sound bearing more than a passing resemblance to old Black Sabbath (Ozzy era), the band fits neatly in that sub-sub-genre of “retro metal”, which, as far as I can tell, means they sound like Sabbath. They’re a tight four-piece outfit consisting of singer/guitarist (and main songwriter) John D. Cronise, guitarist Kyle Shutt, bass player Bryan Richie, and drummer Trivett Wingo. That’s right: Trivett Wingo. I can’t decide if the name sounds more like a hobbit moniker or the name of a member of the Palin family, but either way that’s one of the greatest names I’ve ever heard in my life.
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Inspired by the new Metallica album, we talk about METAL!!!!!

Well, John and special guest Jon Yeske talk about Metal. And Moe adds in a few jabs and derailing comments as usual. I’m not sure what I was doing in this episode other than pining for the new Ben Folds album. So..yeah…not a good fit on this one.

After Hours 12: Metal!!

My mom is what’s known commonly as a “pack rat”. She keeps everything. Every-fucking-thing. Her house is like some sort of poorly-organized, boxed-up museum. On any given shelf or in any closet you can find random shit like my second place ribbon I received in my fourth grade chess tournament, or a clay pot my sister made in 1985. It’s kind of sweet, really, but with all that shit cluttering up her house it’s difficult to find a place to sit…or breathe.

I’ve mentioned the first band I was in, Teezer, numerous times on After Hours, but to sum it up: it was an awesomely horrible garage band consisting of myself, Scotty (who would later play bass in Stone Nowhere), and a few other high school friends. It was the late 80s and metal was big, especially in Central Wisconsin. So Teezer (what a great name) considered itself to be the best of the “metal” bands in our area; not really a difficult achievement.

During one of our trips to the Twin Cities, Scotty and I decided we were going to get Teezer shirts made, so we stopped by a kiosk (if that’s how you pronounce it) at the Ridgedale Mall and had an airbrush artist whip up a batch of shirts for us to take home and show off to our idiot friends. Wouldn’t you know it? Over fifteen years later, my mom finds the shirt and brings it to my house. Here’s the front:

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