The Grimp Reviews Slayer at the Sleep Train Pavilion in Concord August 23, 2007
Mother fucker, I hate doing shit twice. I already wrote this review once, but some rival computer gremlin crept up and lost it in the ether of cyberspace. And I'm about ready to make a dimension jump outa here for while 
Well, I promised it to you, so here it is again, somewhat truncated since I gotta pay a visit to my Abyssal Lords and give a report on the Domination progress. When I find out which pip-squeak infernal was responsible for this I'm gonna sick a beholder on 'em or something.
Anway, Gronk!, myself and some minions rolled up on the Pavilion while the unforgiving sun still shone it's misery upon us from the sky. We arrived toward the end of the opening act Bleeding Through's set. I'm not familiar with their music, so it was hard for me to get into, especially during the accursed daylight (though the stage was shielded by the Pavilion itself) the nasty light still leeked in and leeched the Metal from the air. Daylight it is anathema to metal, don't you think? However, none of this stopped Gronk! from head-banging and pit-raging! I had polymorphed him into a rather un-hygenic-looking human just so he didn't scare the children and attract the unwanted attention of law enforcement or inquisitors! And, I must take my horns off to Bleeding Through. It is a singular act of heroism to be the opening act for Slayer, whose demonic fans are notoriously intolerant of anyone non-Slayer acts, beginning, middle or end on the bill. I must say that they plunged on and hammered out their metal undettered by the detractors (which were surprisingly few, though methinks Slayer fans tend not to come out during the day, so the sun might have had more to do with that).
The band was tight, and expressive, but like many adolescent human males and a good many middle-aged ones before me, my infernal eyes were inexorably drawn toward the female keyboard player, Marta. Truth be told, I could not hear her instrument at all in that venue, for which I thank the greater spirits, because I'm not a huge fan of keys in metal, unless done by the likes of Dimmu Borgir who know how to use them best to demonic effect, but hot DAMN! that chick can head-bang harder than the boys in her band, and it was a pleasure to watch her bang like a femme fatale phantom of the opera.
Having survied the opening slot for Slayer, Bleeding Through exited the stage and cleared the way for the Lords of Hell Metal, the Slaytanic ones themselves.
For those of you who don't know: Slayer has a special place in those black, abyssal pits of what passes for hearts in oRcs. For the sinister sounds of Raining Blood are what was playing when I first brought them through to this world to slaughter the hapless gaming nerds and subsequently burst into Jed the dirty stoner's room. Raining Blood actually saved Jed's life that night, as the tune transfixed the oRcs and distracted them from hacking his head off. (You can read that account in Jed's journal HERE.) You might say Slayer bears direct responsibility for turning the oRcs onto Heavy Metal and initiating the complete Invasion and Domination of your puny human world and the destruction of your ear-drums.
Anyway, the Lords of Hell Metal opened their set with the sun dimming and the curtains closed with a portion of the intro from Metal Storm / Face the Slayer. To my (and I suspect Gronk!'s as well) disappointment, they didn't play anything else from Show No Mercy. I would have liked to hear Die by the Sword, Black Magic, Crionics, or the Anti-Christ, but it was not to be. Still, what they did play completely oRced and their first full-scale aural assault on our ear-drums came withe tune Flesh Storm off the new album. Tom Araya's thrashing mane provided a bit of a Hair Storm, while King and Haneman wielded their axes with deft strokes and much shred, churning out classics and new gems alike in true demonic fashion: War Ensemble, Jihad, Chemical Warfare, Cult...speaking of Cult. I gotta tell you, I don't hold very many humans in high regard, but an exception in my infernal heart is Dave Lombardo. I knew when I heard the first symbol hit in the single release of Cult that Lombardo was back in the band, and I made a blood sacrifice to the demon lords of the abyss for bringing him back. In a protools drum-editing era, this human can bang his drums with speed, precision, and straight-up thunderous sorcery. Live! Without the aid of mahcines! I was enthralled by the mastery of his playing, and made a note to recommend him for Apotheosis to the Infernal Lords and Masters that write my paycheck each milenium. What a contribution to the cause of evil this man has made!
The High-point of the set came for myself and for Gronk! (I gather by the way he entered the pit and hurled human bodies into the seats and beyond) when the Lords of Hell Metal played Raining Blood followed directly by the song that has to my mind THE best intro in heavy metaldom: Hell Awaits. The crowd went wild, Chaos ensued, and consequently allowed me to level up quite a bit, being a chaos agent and all. It was glorious.
Slayer did do a little ditty that passes for a balad for them: South of Heaven--and it came off as sinisterly delightful. They also threw in some non-Lombardo era stuff and finished with a fiendish encore of Mandatory Suicide and the song whose opening scream put MTV's headbanger's ball on the map oh, so many decades (well, okay 2 I guess ) ago: Angel of Death!
Visually, cortexes of all types were treated to a montage of man's countless inhumanities to man, which endlessly delights creatures of my ilk. I mean, the way you humans treat each other, makes our job as infernal agents delightfully easy, hehehehe. Anyway, a nice touch was the flying array of Marshall stacks on either side of the stage above the band in the shapes of inverted crosses.
Having sated the audiences need for blood, the Slaytanic ones exited the stage and cleared the way for the shows headliner: Marilyn Manson.
I'm not overly familiar with Mr. Manson's music, but I did think the show proved that minor demons (Manson) and Greater demons (Slayer) can get on tolerably well. Visually the show was demonically stimulating with plenty of fog, mist, red lights, projected flame and other effects. At one point we got to watch Mr. Manson make out with a decapitated manequin and preach from a lightning bolt emblazoned pulpit, reading from a Holy Bible that burst into flames. An especially good touch, that! At one point, some heart-shaped confetti was strewn all over the audience and Mr. Manson did one song upside down on top of a gigantic, spooking-looking chair.
And inevitably the ubiquitously intolerant Slayer fan stuck around after the lords left to harangue Mr. Manson, yelling, "FUck YOU! SLAYER! FUck YOU!!!!" Holding both middle fingers high for a straight hour! Impressive bit of self-torture, I must say. If he hated Manson that much, he could have just exited the Pavilion. I'm always amused by you human beings capacity for self-torture, and being a basically lazy demon, glad of it, as it saves me an aweful lot of trouble, hehehehe. Anyway, at one point this pathetic, dysfunctional chape, in great pain at the abscence of Slayer from the stage even yelled, "Fuck YOU!!! PANTERA!!!!" Has anyone told him that, regrettably Dime is dead?
Well, there you have it Inchoates! All-in-all, a fucking awesome show, and I recommend that all you aspirants to ultimate evil go catch it if it passes through your town. Well, I'm off dimension hopping now.
Until the Domination, oRc on!!!!
Yours unruly,
Gruesom Grimp
Well, I promised it to you, so here it is again, somewhat truncated since I gotta pay a visit to my Abyssal Lords and give a report on the Domination progress. When I find out which pip-squeak infernal was responsible for this I'm gonna sick a beholder on 'em or something.
Anway, Gronk!, myself and some minions rolled up on the Pavilion while the unforgiving sun still shone it's misery upon us from the sky. We arrived toward the end of the opening act Bleeding Through's set. I'm not familiar with their music, so it was hard for me to get into, especially during the accursed daylight (though the stage was shielded by the Pavilion itself) the nasty light still leeked in and leeched the Metal from the air. Daylight it is anathema to metal, don't you think? However, none of this stopped Gronk! from head-banging and pit-raging! I had polymorphed him into a rather un-hygenic-looking human just so he didn't scare the children and attract the unwanted attention of law enforcement or inquisitors! And, I must take my horns off to Bleeding Through. It is a singular act of heroism to be the opening act for Slayer, whose demonic fans are notoriously intolerant of anyone non-Slayer acts, beginning, middle or end on the bill. I must say that they plunged on and hammered out their metal undettered by the detractors (which were surprisingly few, though methinks Slayer fans tend not to come out during the day, so the sun might have had more to do with that).
The band was tight, and expressive, but like many adolescent human males and a good many middle-aged ones before me, my infernal eyes were inexorably drawn toward the female keyboard player, Marta. Truth be told, I could not hear her instrument at all in that venue, for which I thank the greater spirits, because I'm not a huge fan of keys in metal, unless done by the likes of Dimmu Borgir who know how to use them best to demonic effect, but hot DAMN! that chick can head-bang harder than the boys in her band, and it was a pleasure to watch her bang like a femme fatale phantom of the opera.
Having survied the opening slot for Slayer, Bleeding Through exited the stage and cleared the way for the Lords of Hell Metal, the Slaytanic ones themselves.
For those of you who don't know: Slayer has a special place in those black, abyssal pits of what passes for hearts in oRcs. For the sinister sounds of Raining Blood are what was playing when I first brought them through to this world to slaughter the hapless gaming nerds and subsequently burst into Jed the dirty stoner's room. Raining Blood actually saved Jed's life that night, as the tune transfixed the oRcs and distracted them from hacking his head off. (You can read that account in Jed's journal HERE.) You might say Slayer bears direct responsibility for turning the oRcs onto Heavy Metal and initiating the complete Invasion and Domination of your puny human world and the destruction of your ear-drums.
Anyway, the Lords of Hell Metal opened their set with the sun dimming and the curtains closed with a portion of the intro from Metal Storm / Face the Slayer. To my (and I suspect Gronk!'s as well) disappointment, they didn't play anything else from Show No Mercy. I would have liked to hear Die by the Sword, Black Magic, Crionics, or the Anti-Christ, but it was not to be. Still, what they did play completely oRced and their first full-scale aural assault on our ear-drums came withe tune Flesh Storm off the new album. Tom Araya's thrashing mane provided a bit of a Hair Storm, while King and Haneman wielded their axes with deft strokes and much shred, churning out classics and new gems alike in true demonic fashion: War Ensemble, Jihad, Chemical Warfare, Cult...speaking of Cult. I gotta tell you, I don't hold very many humans in high regard, but an exception in my infernal heart is Dave Lombardo. I knew when I heard the first symbol hit in the single release of Cult that Lombardo was back in the band, and I made a blood sacrifice to the demon lords of the abyss for bringing him back. In a protools drum-editing era, this human can bang his drums with speed, precision, and straight-up thunderous sorcery. Live! Without the aid of mahcines! I was enthralled by the mastery of his playing, and made a note to recommend him for Apotheosis to the Infernal Lords and Masters that write my paycheck each milenium. What a contribution to the cause of evil this man has made!
The High-point of the set came for myself and for Gronk! (I gather by the way he entered the pit and hurled human bodies into the seats and beyond) when the Lords of Hell Metal played Raining Blood followed directly by the song that has to my mind THE best intro in heavy metaldom: Hell Awaits. The crowd went wild, Chaos ensued, and consequently allowed me to level up quite a bit, being a chaos agent and all. It was glorious.
Slayer did do a little ditty that passes for a balad for them: South of Heaven--and it came off as sinisterly delightful. They also threw in some non-Lombardo era stuff and finished with a fiendish encore of Mandatory Suicide and the song whose opening scream put MTV's headbanger's ball on the map oh, so many decades (well, okay 2 I guess ) ago: Angel of Death!
Visually, cortexes of all types were treated to a montage of man's countless inhumanities to man, which endlessly delights creatures of my ilk. I mean, the way you humans treat each other, makes our job as infernal agents delightfully easy, hehehehe. Anyway, a nice touch was the flying array of Marshall stacks on either side of the stage above the band in the shapes of inverted crosses.
Having sated the audiences need for blood, the Slaytanic ones exited the stage and cleared the way for the shows headliner: Marilyn Manson.
I'm not overly familiar with Mr. Manson's music, but I did think the show proved that minor demons (Manson) and Greater demons (Slayer) can get on tolerably well. Visually the show was demonically stimulating with plenty of fog, mist, red lights, projected flame and other effects. At one point we got to watch Mr. Manson make out with a decapitated manequin and preach from a lightning bolt emblazoned pulpit, reading from a Holy Bible that burst into flames. An especially good touch, that! At one point, some heart-shaped confetti was strewn all over the audience and Mr. Manson did one song upside down on top of a gigantic, spooking-looking chair.
And inevitably the ubiquitously intolerant Slayer fan stuck around after the lords left to harangue Mr. Manson, yelling, "FUck YOU! SLAYER! FUck YOU!!!!" Holding both middle fingers high for a straight hour! Impressive bit of self-torture, I must say. If he hated Manson that much, he could have just exited the Pavilion. I'm always amused by you human beings capacity for self-torture, and being a basically lazy demon, glad of it, as it saves me an aweful lot of trouble, hehehehe. Anyway, at one point this pathetic, dysfunctional chape, in great pain at the abscence of Slayer from the stage even yelled, "Fuck YOU!!! PANTERA!!!!" Has anyone told him that, regrettably Dime is dead?
Well, there you have it Inchoates! All-in-all, a fucking awesome show, and I recommend that all you aspirants to ultimate evil go catch it if it passes through your town. Well, I'm off dimension hopping now.
Until the Domination, oRc on!!!!
Yours unruly,
Gruesom Grimp
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