Testament, Megadeth, and Slayer
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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