Post by markwj on Jun 14, 2010 19:12:56 GMT
Slayer
Academy, Manchester
31/5/10
Pushing towards their 30th anniversary Slayer are regarded as one of the “Big 4” of US thrash metal, are probably held in the highest regard of those for their consistent delivery over time, and have inspired such an almost mythic status that the mere mention/roar of their name is like the equivalent of an “Allahu Akbar” to the metal community. Strange then that despite the recent foot in the door of mainstream consciousness that an appearance on Harry Hill’s TV Burp provided for them my work colleagues look blank when I tell them what deviancy I am up to for the weekend, or that even esteemed musical gurus resident here admit that they couldn’t name a single song!
There may be limited time for these infidels to see the light. This gig had been twice postponed, from November and then March, due to the decades of aggressive windmill head banging from front man Tom Araya finally seeming to take some toll on his back and his being forced to undergo an Anterior Cervical Discectomy with Fusion. Ouch. Anyway, when the day arrived I found myself chasing the hair of the dog in Chester from the Vice Squad/Stuntface session the night before, before ramping things up on a train ride up to Manchester. Our early arrival led to further diversionary drinks in Grand Central, packed out with those on their way and the atmosphere was fantastic, bubbling excitement, everyone knew what was coming and it was going to be good.
To be fair we were having such a good time there we sacked off support band The Haunted and their contemporary Swedish thrash, I haven’t heard much good about them recently and didn’t feel this was any great loss. There were still loads of folks to catch up with entering the main Academy hall whilst squeezing in some last ale. Some deemed this a downturn for Slayer whereas they might have been at the MEN before, but I’m all in favour of this opportunity to get up closer to them.
Initially we were up at the back of the front third when they took the stage, illuminated by a backlighting rig that must have had more bulbs than Blackpool promenade. They started with the title track of their latest album “World Painted Blood”, trademark double picked riffing and thundering double bass drumming, all musicians seemingly on top form. A lot of newer material in the first half of the set and yes fair enough they are taking it as easy as they can these days under doctors orders but there’s absolutely no lack of conviction or precision in the delivery of their intensity. What they also achieve is great dark atmospheres in their slower numbers; Tom’s voice is as powerful and clear in the twisted, threatening vibes of the likes of “Seasons in the Abyss” as he is in the whirlwind of “Disciple”. The former inspires me to head up to the front and test the waters for surf, I am impressed with the bouncers professional and gentle handling. From this run up to the end now we are treated to classic after classic, from the oldest gobsmacking combinations of “Hell Awaits” and “Chemical Warfare through to their peak periods gems of “Mandatory Suicide” and an inevitable ultimate destuction closer of “Raining Blood” (though this was craftily segued into another rarity “Aggressive Perfector”. Slayer pits of the past have been legendary for their (largely) friendly violence and these anthems definitely got things stirred up, to be fair though it was relatively survivable, maybe the general age of their fanbase is creaking on a bit more now. There was always going to be an encore and again it was a trio of songs that could perhaps have been predicted but also perhaps wished for. The brooding, bulldozing roar of “South of Heaven” ending with an epic feedback pause before the machine gun punch of “Silent Scream”, I am airborne for ages in this and get to meet a few friends in passing overhead of the chaos! And to finish (us off) what else but “Angel of Death”, which I’d heard surprising claims he’s forgotten the words to at a previous date but for this one he just doesn’t bother singing it much! Leaves it to the crowd to deliver the intro scream and half the lyrics while he beams knowingly to one side. Nothing needs to be said, there is this unholy communion between legend band and rabid fans, fundamental happiness all round.
cheers to emma stuart for the photos
Academy, Manchester
31/5/10
Pushing towards their 30th anniversary Slayer are regarded as one of the “Big 4” of US thrash metal, are probably held in the highest regard of those for their consistent delivery over time, and have inspired such an almost mythic status that the mere mention/roar of their name is like the equivalent of an “Allahu Akbar” to the metal community. Strange then that despite the recent foot in the door of mainstream consciousness that an appearance on Harry Hill’s TV Burp provided for them my work colleagues look blank when I tell them what deviancy I am up to for the weekend, or that even esteemed musical gurus resident here admit that they couldn’t name a single song!
There may be limited time for these infidels to see the light. This gig had been twice postponed, from November and then March, due to the decades of aggressive windmill head banging from front man Tom Araya finally seeming to take some toll on his back and his being forced to undergo an Anterior Cervical Discectomy with Fusion. Ouch. Anyway, when the day arrived I found myself chasing the hair of the dog in Chester from the Vice Squad/Stuntface session the night before, before ramping things up on a train ride up to Manchester. Our early arrival led to further diversionary drinks in Grand Central, packed out with those on their way and the atmosphere was fantastic, bubbling excitement, everyone knew what was coming and it was going to be good.
To be fair we were having such a good time there we sacked off support band The Haunted and their contemporary Swedish thrash, I haven’t heard much good about them recently and didn’t feel this was any great loss. There were still loads of folks to catch up with entering the main Academy hall whilst squeezing in some last ale. Some deemed this a downturn for Slayer whereas they might have been at the MEN before, but I’m all in favour of this opportunity to get up closer to them.
Initially we were up at the back of the front third when they took the stage, illuminated by a backlighting rig that must have had more bulbs than Blackpool promenade. They started with the title track of their latest album “World Painted Blood”, trademark double picked riffing and thundering double bass drumming, all musicians seemingly on top form. A lot of newer material in the first half of the set and yes fair enough they are taking it as easy as they can these days under doctors orders but there’s absolutely no lack of conviction or precision in the delivery of their intensity. What they also achieve is great dark atmospheres in their slower numbers; Tom’s voice is as powerful and clear in the twisted, threatening vibes of the likes of “Seasons in the Abyss” as he is in the whirlwind of “Disciple”. The former inspires me to head up to the front and test the waters for surf, I am impressed with the bouncers professional and gentle handling. From this run up to the end now we are treated to classic after classic, from the oldest gobsmacking combinations of “Hell Awaits” and “Chemical Warfare through to their peak periods gems of “Mandatory Suicide” and an inevitable ultimate destuction closer of “Raining Blood” (though this was craftily segued into another rarity “Aggressive Perfector”. Slayer pits of the past have been legendary for their (largely) friendly violence and these anthems definitely got things stirred up, to be fair though it was relatively survivable, maybe the general age of their fanbase is creaking on a bit more now. There was always going to be an encore and again it was a trio of songs that could perhaps have been predicted but also perhaps wished for. The brooding, bulldozing roar of “South of Heaven” ending with an epic feedback pause before the machine gun punch of “Silent Scream”, I am airborne for ages in this and get to meet a few friends in passing overhead of the chaos! And to finish (us off) what else but “Angel of Death”, which I’d heard surprising claims he’s forgotten the words to at a previous date but for this one he just doesn’t bother singing it much! Leaves it to the crowd to deliver the intro scream and half the lyrics while he beams knowingly to one side. Nothing needs to be said, there is this unholy communion between legend band and rabid fans, fundamental happiness all round.
cheers to emma stuart for the photos