Social Disorder

As per usual, we sat together collectively as a band to try and come up with yet another new name for our band. We had our ritual Saturday afternoon jam session, then we lounged around brainstorming for the remainder of the afternoon. After hours of ridiculous names being tossed around, we still hadn't come up with anything remotely acceptable.

The following Monday I was back at school and I decided to turn to my muse, one of my best friends, and one of the most inspirational people in my life, Sanjai. Sanj agreed to come to my place after school with me to see if we could come up with a name. During the process we both agreed that it would be cool to incorporate two words that were polar opposites of each other, or two words that clashed against each other, something along those lines would be ideal we figured.

Eventually we came up with the first word, "Social" from there we tried to come up with a 2nd word that would work well with it, ie: Social Misfits, Social Deviants, etc. Finally it was Sanjai who found the 2nd word we were longing for....Disorder.

Social Disorder. I was instantly sold on his suggestion, seeing as we were all thrashing punks, there couldn't of been a more suitable combination of words. We immediately began working on a logo, which really did all the work itself. Normal, regular font for the word "Social" and a more chaotic font for the word "Disorder". We whipped a design up in no time and I couldn't wait to get to school the next day to tell the guys about our new band name and show them our new logo.

The next day I eagerly presented our new name and logo to the guys and everyone was on board with the idea, which I give Sanjai 99% of the credit for. So we now had a new kickass band name and logo, there was just one more element missing...

Oh right! My band!

With all the new and exciting things going on in my life, I almost forgot we still had an active band. We had still been jamming religiously every Saturday afternoon at Ryan's place, and we actually had a few songs under our belts, a few cover songs and a few originals.

As far as cover songs went, we mainly stuck to our favourite bands/songs. We covered "The Bag Lady Song" by The Accused, "I Killed Mommy" by The Day-Glo Abortions, "Spandex Enormity" by M.O.D., and "Loss For Words" by Corrosion of Conformity. We also did a parody version of Tone Loc's "Wild Thing" but our version was called "Static Cling" (about doing laundry) and we had two renditions of it, the rap version and the hardcore version.

The first original song we composed was called "Suck my nose until my head caves in" a line Jerry and I had heard in some cheesy 80's t&a comedy movie. We ended up later changing the title of the song to "Kevin Does Coke" as well as changing all of the lyrics. Somehow rumours started flying around town about yours truly being a "coke head" which was hilarious to us, as all of my true friends knew how against the drug I was, I had never even tried it.

The next original song we wrote was called "Will-nots" and it was somewhat in the vein of Minor Threat and The Cro-Mags. This little ditty was about those annoying shitballs that get stuck in your ass hair and "Will not" come out. This ended up being one of my all time faves of our songs, it was catchy, upbeat, fast & heavy. We would go on and continue to write a few more originals including "The Brady Bunch", "Curry Cookies", "Left 2 Die", "The Reject", "Cotton Pony", and a couple more that weren't quite as memorable.

Things were shaping up and getting a bit more serious, and we were getting a bit more serious despite the obvious comedic subject matter in the lyrics of our songs, just like our heroes E.B.S. & Curious Mold. For some reason our band name wasn't sitting right with me anymore. G.P.K. or Garbage Pail Kids, didn't have the same ring to me as it once did. Perhaps now that I was 16, I found the name to be too juvenile to match the music we were making.

The time had come YET again for ANOTHER name change...

THEM!

It seemed like having a newly shaved head brought with it some unwanted attention, mainly from the black folks in my high school. I could barely make it from one class to the next without being swarmed in the hallway by a posse of brothers accusing me of being a "skin head" or "racist" just because I had a shaved head. Mind you I did have some skin head friends so I can see how one might get lumped in with them, but the truth of the matter was I had black friends, Asian friends, Indian friends, you name it. I was one of the first white kids I knew of who embraced rap music. How could I be a racist?

Even out in public, like shopping at the mall per say, I'd be approached by "the brothaz" just so they could launch hate in my direction. I remember one time specifically a few of them got in my face and were calling me "skinhead" and "racist" so I ripped my jacket open like I was Clark Kent exposing the "S" only under my coat was a P.E. t-shirt. I yelled back at the group of guys "Do racists and skinheads listen to Public Enemy???" They all stood there dumbfounded in silence as I walked away muttering.

A few weeks later the same group of guys approached me in the mall, but this time they were all smiling and being friendly. The biggest one of the group asked me "Yo star you got a cigarette?" Being the nice, non confrontational person I am, I responded "Yes" and began to take my pack of smokes out of my pocket. No sooner than the smokes appeared, the big guy ripped the pack out of my hand, causing the pack to open, resulting in my smokes flying all over the place. Then all his lackeys ran around laughing and snatching all of my smokes up off the ground. I stood there in disbelief shaking my head. Instead of causing a scene I just walked away while they all scoured the ground like savages, fighting over cigarettes that literally cost pennies back in those days.

As I walked home from the mall that night I just got more and more furious thinking about what had happened. Here I was being generous and kind to these guys and this is the treatment I received? With actions like theirs I can see why one would have racist feelings. You aren't doing much justice for your people when you are causing non racist people to start harbouring hate and resentment towards people of colour. My friends and I even started referring to these ignoramuses as "THEM!" an old science fiction movie about giant man eating ants. I tried being civil, I tried being peaceful, and I tried being the bigger man and where did it get me? Absolutely nowhere. I really didn't know what to think anymore but I did know one thing for certain, I wasn't about to take any more grief or shit from "THEM!"

Left 4 Dead

Greetings to all my loyal readers, today I am taking a break yet again from the story at hand, so I can indulge in some shameless self promotion.

I have recently began working on my newest recording effort over the past few months entitled "What's Below Remains Below" and I am both thrilled and pleased to be officially finished my second song, "Left 4 Dead" which is based on the Xbox 360 video game of the same name.

I started playing Left 4 Dead back in 2008, not long after finally buying an Xbox, I bought the game based on a recommendation from a friend and co-worker, and I was instantly hooked. For those of you unfamiliar with the game, Left 4 Dead is a first person shooter set during a viral outbreak that has turned the majority of mankind into zombie-like, blood thirsty maniacs. After killing countless hordes the next thing I knew it was the fall of 2009 and "Left 4 Dead 2" was being released. Needless to say I was uber ecstatic!

I picked the game up the day it came out and also finally got an Xbox gold account so I could play online. The game offered a "versus mode" which pits two teams of four against each other, and you actually get to play as "special infected" superiorly mutated beings each with their own unique attack.

After learning all the levels inside out I started playing online and was immediately addicted. I love nothing more than playing as the special infected, so much in fact that almost 3 years passed by and I was still playing the game religiously. I even ended up having to buy a second copy of it after my first one got played out and mysteriously cracked in half while I was in the midst of playing.

About a year ago I met some people playing online and we became friends. I play with these friends on a daily basis almost, and even though I have never met any of them, they have become the newest addition to my family. We have fun most of the time (except when playing against "try hards") and they've also been there as friends I can blow steam off around and talk about my problems with. In some way they are the main inspiration behind this song and I'd like to thank a great bunch of guys (& gals) for being the people they are, I'm glad to have you all enter my life and I dedicate this song to you, enjoy!

http://kabal.bandcamp.com/track/left-4-dead

Mad props & shout outs to the
"L4D Friends Assemble" family:

MickeyPryde2
moose attac
Kael n minions
Silver ShOts
crusher1885
P3 Charmed Ones
C00ki3Monst3r45
Danny890x
NEMO0521
awhCB
FlamezZ xV
LiLMsANiMeGaMeR
Miss Stay Puft

Horizon Expansion

My musical horizon was constantly expanding and I was always on the search for new music. I would scour t-shirt adds in metal mags and Thrasher mag, pay attention to the t-shirts I saw older guys wearing, and most importantly I would read the liner notes of my records, in particular the "special thanks" section, to see which bands were receiving gratitudes from the bands I was listening to. After all, if my heroes were giving them props then they had to be good right? On top of that MuchMusic was playing more aggressive bands during their metal show, and I had older friends like Spicoli who was kind enough to lend me records on occasion for me to bootleg onto blank cassettes.

With all of these elements combined I was fortunate enough to discover all types of bands ranging in numerous different styles, that all lay within the main genre of the music I adored. Bands like 7 seconds, Attitude Adjustment (who's album "American Paranoia" I feel is in the all time top 10 crossover records), Bad Brains (who blew my mind because they were all Rastafarians of African American descent who quickly silenced the loudest of all racists through their undeniable sound), Black Flag, Circle Jerks, Dag Nasty, Dark Angel, Dead Kennedys, Gang Green, Jerry's Kids, Nuclear Assault, The Nun Fuckers, Poison Idea, Possessed, Ramones, Sacred Reich, SNFU, Sudden Impact & Sons of Ishmael, (both of whom I can proudly say were from my local Toronto scene), Misfits, Life Sentence....I mean the list just went on and on and I was loving every minute of it.

On the video side of things, I found it incredible how more and more bands were coming out with music videos, AND they were actually getting air time! I've added a few of my favourites from these times, please enjoy!

House of Anarchy

Growing up in Brampton, I caught wind of a place that sadly I never once had the privilege of going to, it was a place known as the "House of Anarchy" or "House of A" for short. Some of my older thrasher buddies had attended a few parties there and they were the ones who brought it to my attention.

As legend had it, the House of A was a residence inhabited by members of F.B.I. and their circle of friends. Essentially it was a party house and a flop house for punks, thrashers, and everyone in between. I could be wrong about who actually lived there but I am going on memory, memories from 25 years ago.

From what I understood the place was a non stop party, I'm pretty sure they even had bands play there on occasion but don't quote me on that. I may actually do some more research on this subject so don't be surprised if you see a follow up post to this one at some point in the near future. In fact if you the reader personally have any memories, stories, or inside knowledge, please feel free to send them to me via email at:
theofour20@hotmail.com

All I really knew besides the above stated, was that the House of A was quite close to where I lived. I would pass by it everyday during the 15 minute stretch I walked from my house to my high school. Every time I passed by it my head was filled with imagery of how I envisioned it and imagined it to be on the inside. I didn't see paint or wallpaper on the walls, I saw graffiti, stickers, and vandalism. I didn't see furniture like you'd typically see in a house, I saw empty rooms with drunk and high people sprawled across the floor, partaking in party festivities regardless of the time of day or the day of the week.

I honestly don't know what the inside looked like, nor do I know much about the houses history. All I know is how I imagined it in my brain, and how I longed to have stepped foot inside, even if it was only for one magical moment, because in my mind anarchy is freedom and freedom is anarchy...

Not the National Wrestling Alliance

Being a fan of rap from the moment the flood gates opened, I had the privilege of hearing and discovering all sorts of groups right from the get go. Grandmaster Flash, RUN D.M.C., Public Enemy, Kurtis Blow, The Fat Boys, LL Cool J, Twin Hype, Boogie Down Productions, Biz Markie, Fast Eddie, Erik B. & Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, EPMD, Schoolly D, Beastie Boys, and 2 Live Crew, these were the early pioneers of the music and essentially all that was available to the public. One thing they all seemed to have in common was that they all came from the east coast.

Little did I know that out on the west coast there was a whole new world of rap I had yet to discover, but it wasn't JUST rap, they had their own flavour going on out west, it was called "Gangsta Rap" pioneered by the first west coast rapper I ever heard, Ice T. I could go on about Ice but I shall save that for another day. On this particular day I truly have no memory or recollection of how I acquired it, but somehow I got my hands on a cassette tape called "Straight Outta Compton" by a group named N.W.A. (Niggaz With Attitude) The album cover depicted a group of black men in a circle staring down at perhaps you, the victim on the ground. Genius idea I thought to myself immediately. I also knew I didn't want to be the guy on the ground.

I had always been comparing the parallels between rap and hardcore, but this new tape just solidified my philosophy on the matter as this was some seriously hardcore shit! The crew was made up of 6 members, DJ Yella, Dr.Dre, Arabian Prince, MC Ren, Ice Cube, & Eazy E. The beats and music were extremely aggressive and in your face, somewhat similar to Public Enemy. Each MC had his own unique style and voice, and they had no qualms about getting in your face with it, their delivery almost more of a yell as opposed to the laid back raps of the easy coast style. Needless to say I was completely enamoured from the moment I heard the opening line of the first song. With track titles like "Fuck Tha Police" & "Gangsta Gangsta" N.W.A. painted a portrait of the street life out on Los Angeles and they definitely weren't afraid to say anything.

I truly thought these guys were legitimate killers, at least that's what some of the lyrics portrayed. Previously to this group, I had never really heard many rappers talk much about having guns and murdering people, but it seemed like that was all these guys did! I wondered how they could admit to heinous crimes on a recording without fearing the backlash they could suffer if the wrong ears heard such words. Eventually I came to the conclusion that they weren't really killers. I thought perhaps they were involved with the gang life at one point in their lives, and now through the salvation of music they could escape the gangland warfare and tell their tales. Whatever the story was, it didn't matter to me. All I knew was these guys made some awesome music and kicked the ass of my ear drums.

N.W.A. were also responsible for everyone and their mother wearing L.A. Raiders gear. Jackets, hats, toques, you name it. Raiders gear was everywhere you looked and it appeared everyone wanted to be a "Gangsta Gangsta" myself included. I stood back from the flock of Raiders sheep and wondered what new sounds may spawn from the west that I might be fortunate enough to encounter...

Hair Doesn't Make The Man

After the Slayer concert, another cold, heartless, and forgettable winter had passed and the fresh scent of spring was in the air once again. It was time to bust out the jam shorts and skateboards. It was time once again for underage drinking in public places while we searched for parties. It was also time for a major change in my life.

I wasn't very happy with the way my hair was growing. A few of my friends had shaved their heads and now I too was contemplating it. Now that I was more into hardcore punk as opposed to metal, hair didn't seem that important to me, and as the age old saying goes "Hair doesn't make the man"

One day on lunch a few friends of mine were heading over to a buddy's house for lunch and haircuts. I decided to tag along as the time had come to shed these long locks of mine. I was so eager and excited that I asked to be first. The "barber" in charge asked me which level of guard I wanted on the clippers. I insisted on no guard as I wanted my head shaved down to the skin.

It was such a strange feeling, going from a full mop of hair to a clean, bald head. When I returned to school after lunch all of my female friends were in shock, and practically in tears, over the fact I had removed my hair.

I was anticipating going home at the end of the day to show my folks the new doo. I assumed they would be happy that I didn't have long hair anymore. Much to my disbelief my mother flipped her lid screaming "why did you cut your hair so short?" I couldn't figure out why she was so upset. She absolutely despised my long hair and now she despised the fact that I had no hair! There was no winning this hair battle. Parents. Go figure...

Punk Rock Girl

Connie was a French high school student who lived in what at the time we considered the far outskirts of Brampton, the area of Sandalwood and highway 10. She went to catholic school just like my former girlfriend Lydia. I don't know what it was with me and catholic school girls but oh how I adored them so.

We started out talking on the phone, I of course took advantage of the fact she gave me her number, and we would chat for hours and hours. I'd tell her about all my favourite bands and it wasn't uncommon for me to play her songs over the phone via my little boom box. We even had our own song, "In My Eyes" by none other than Minor Threat.

Although she was uniformed, it was clear as crystal that this girl was a freak, or a punk, or whatever she classified herself as. Her fire engine red hair was usually crimped and styled unlike no other girls hairdoo I had ever seen.

As natural of a beauty as she was, Connie wore fairly heavy amounts of make up, not to cover any flaws as in my eyes she was flawless. Her heavy and stylized eyeliner jobs were merely an extension of her personality.

After weeks of talking we started meeting on a regular basis. She would take the bus to the mall from her school, and I would walk to the mall as I always did. We would walk around holding hands, we would shop, we would eat in the food court and chat, and of course she would have to accompany me to my favourite spot in the entire mall, The Hex Arcade.

Every time we went out she always had one request, that I wear my bandana and hair in front of my face like the day I met her. I had no problem with it but after awhile I started wondering if she actually liked me or just my freaky styley. We would head back to my place afterwards and make out in my room until it was time for her dad to come pick her up.

Connie brought me and a few of my boys to a party once with all of her French friends. As much as I liked her, for the life of me I couldn't figure out why she hung around with all of these boring, uptight people, as this was easily the worst party I had ever been to. I decided to bust out the infamous chain trick to spice things up and it did not go over well at all. Every guy was intimidated, every girl was screaming in horror, and I think one of them even puked.

Eventually she ended up breaking it off with me for reasons I can't quite remember, but I do remember I was quite devastated, as I had developed intense feelings for her. I was scorned, heart broken, and that led to hate and rage. I now despised this person I cared so dearly for.

I never saw, nor heard from her again, until about a year later when I saw her in the mall. To my amazement and disbelief she was pushing a stroller around with her new born child in it, at her side her new pint sized boyfriend. I remember thinking to myself "Sucker" for my life was just beginning, and the way I saw things their lives were ending...

Dance Dance Execution

So I had been growing my hair all summer after my mother "beaned" me, and now as 1989 was rapidly approaching my hair had grown quite long. Although I was trying to grow it all one length it appeared like my bangs were growing faster than the back of my hair was.

It seemed as if the back of my hair barely hung past the collar of my leather/denim jacket combo, yet my bangs were way past my chin, practically to the collar of my shirt. My teachers were constantly complaining about how they couldn't see my eyes and accusations of me sleeping in class were constantly hurled.

One day Jazzy Jeff and the crew mentioned they were going to be DJ'ing a school dance at none other than the French school down the street from my old house, a place I had spent many of hours skateboarding, smoking, and playing handball....or murder ball. Jeff asked me if I'd be interested in coming to help out with moral support and I eagerly agreed, with one exception: he would have to play a few songs from a few of my favourite records. Jeff was cool with that and the stage was set.

When the day arrived I decided to try something different. I combed all of my hair forward and then tied on a bandana ala Andy Anderson style from Attitude Adjustment. The effect it caused looked great, a wall of hair raining out the front of the bandana, completely covering my devilish good looks, leaving me to appear faceless. I tossed on my $5.00 D.R.I. shirt, army pants, Chuck Taylor's, and I was ready to roll!

The dance was your typical grade 8 dance, which in general is fairly lame, except for the fact that my boys ran a bad ass DJ crew and they played nothing but the best music. Eventually Jeff through on some of my music and the next thing you knew I was thrashing about the dance floor filling people with fear. Jeff even abandoned his post behind the wheels of steel and joined me in the mosh festivities. All the kids seemed fascinated by our actions and some of them even joined in. Eventually the teachers broke up the fun as they obviously were not thrilled about their students slam dancing.

Things seemed to get a bit lame and tame so I decided it was time once again to liven up the party. I retreated to the bathroom, removed my dog tag sink chain from around my neck, and proceeded to sniff it up my nose, let it fall down my throat, and then spit the other end out my mouth and attached the links. Little did I know someone caught wind of the chain trick and when I came out of the bathroom practically all the kids were gathered around waiting to see. I soaked up the attention as they all gasped in shock. The next thing I knew some teachers became aware of the situation and decided it was time for me to leave.

I figured I'd hang around outside and wait for the crew since the dance was almost over. No sooner than I lit my cigarette I was approached by a very attractive punk girl who was helping out chaperoning the dance. She proceeded to tell me how much she loved my hair and tell me how cool she thought the chain trick was. The next thing I knew her parents were there to pick her up. She slid a small, folded piece of paper into my hand, smiled at me, and then she was gone.

I opened the paper to find her phone number along with her name....Connie

The Tooth of the Matter

I just wanted to take a quick minute to inform everyone that last weeks posts got cut short due to a terrible toothache, or teeth ache rather, that I've been dealing with.

I'm sure you, just like everyone else would simply ask "Why don't you goto the dentist Kevin?" and yes that does seem like a simple solution to my problem. I just HATE going to the dentist and I have been too tied up with other things to find the time to go. Big shout outs to my little friend Steph for all the kick ass pain killers she has been kind enough to give me so I can deal with this pain and not have any more sleepless nights or miss any more days of work.

Never fear, Heavy Ghetto will resume tomorrow...

Mike C

Now that I was in with my new group of friends I was constantly meeting new people through their circle of friends, some of whom were already graduated and apart of the working world. One of the guys named Jay who we referred to as "Dove" had cool enough parents that they would let us party at their place every weekend and they didn't seem to mind all the underage drinking that was going on. We would have the brews a cracking, the tunes a cranking, and usually super Mario or Ice hockey booted up on the Nintendo.

It was at Jay's that I got acquainted with yet another Mike, Mike Chapman. I had seen Mike around school in grade 9, he was a member of a band called "The Stiffs" who's flyers adorned the high school walls. Mike was what some may call a "goth" or "industrial" he wore all black, a long black trench coat, and he had an extreme flat top hair cut, almost like a cameo, which appeared to make him look 7 feet tall.

I always found him to be somewhat of a big, intimidating guy, until we struck up a conversation at Dove's place one night. Mike ended up being a super nice guy and he was very easy to talk to. Mike didn't seem to mind nor judge me on the fact I was a few years younger than him. As we shot the shit Mike revealed the fact that he worked for the city of Brampton, mainly on the grounds of Chinguacousy park where I frequently skateboarded.

From that point on whenever I was at Ching Park skating I always made a point to keep my eyes open for Mike. I'd usually run into him driving one of the city vehicles around the park. Mike would always stop to talk with me and he never seemed rushed or pressed for time. I truly appreciated the fact he was a genuinely good person who always had light hearted words and humorous statements in store for me.

That went for while we were at school as well, Mike would always say hi when we passed each other in the halls and normally he would stop to talk for a few minutes. Right from the get go of meeting Mike I always felt there was something special and unique about him and I also felt more connected to him than any of the other older dudes I was now hanging out with. I didn't know it at the time but Mike and I would go on to be great friends, roommates, and band mates as the years progressed...

World Sacrifice pt.2

Our seats were claimed, the merch was bought, and the stage was set, it was finally time for the music to come to life! As I looked over the balcony I scanned through the crowd, everyone seemed rowdy and blood thirsty. I was even able to pick out the EBS boys as well as a few other familiar faces in the sea of metal below me.

Finally Motörhead hit the stage, I remember thinking there was an awful lot of room for the 3 band members up on that massive stage, none the less Lemmy stood out like a Greek god on the foot of the acropolis with the sun shining upon him, or in this case the stage lights. Motörhead ripped shit up in a hurry and demanded the attention of every person in the room. They belted out all the classics like orgasmatron, killed by death, chase is better than the catch, and of course their eternal hit the ace of spades, to which the crowd erupted in a frenzy of madness. One thing was for certain though, I had never heard music that loud in my entire life, and Motörhead claimed to be the noisiest band in the world.

I ventured down to the bathroom for a quick piss before Slayer came on and had to bob and weave my way through the leather and denim clad hair giants, I almost felt like a lost kid on his first day of high school, nervously searching for his home room or locker. I managed to make it back to my seat and patiently awaited Slayer.

The lights went dark, the crowd erupted, and the opening riff for "South of Heaven" kicked in. The first song on the new album. Years later after seeing Slayer a few times I realized they always opened up with whatever the first song was on their newest album. So I thought Motörhead was the loudest thing I had ever heard but Slayer was just a few notches higher on the volume dial. I honestly thought my brain was going to explode and bleed out of my ears! I had never smoked as much dope as I did on this particular day before and it was taking its toll on me. I hit the burn out phase and could barely keep my eyes open, only the extreme loudness of Slayer kept my eyes barely propped open.

I gazed down at the action below and was thankful for my comfy seat, as it just looked like absolute madness and murder was going on in the pit. When the band finally broke into "raining blood" I couldn't believe my eyes, it was actually raining bodies for the whole song, and by that I mean there was a non stop flow of people diving off the balcony onto the unsuspected people below. I had never seen anything like this, it had to be at least a 15-20 foot drop. Absolute insanity.

When the song "Angel of death" kicked in it was quite apparent that this was the encore and the final song of the night. With the stage lights all emblazoned in a fiery red, it was easy for one to forget where they were and feel like they had just stepped into the bowels of hell. Once the music died and the smoke cleared it was time to go home.

I had finally attended my first REAL concert and it was amazing experience, I couldn't wait for the next one, despite the fact that it took about 3 days for me to regain my hearing properly. Thanks Slayer!!!

World Sacrifice pt.1

The day of the Slayer concert had finally arrived and I was super stoked! Early in the day I headed with Noel over to this guy Mike's house. Mike was another older guy in the group. Word had it his family had inherited tons of money from a family member who was an inventor, or something along those lines, and judging by the size of his house and his numerous vehicles he owned, it was safe to say the word on the street was more than likely true. We hung out and blazed a joint then Noel left to go pick some of the other guys up. We ended up meeting somewhere with our 2 vehicles packed with people for a doobie rendezvous then we were on our way. I was lucky enough to go in Mike's car, a red iroc with quite possibly the loudest stereo system I have ever heard.

The whole drive down we listened to "south of heaven" by Slayer and "Nations" by Public Enemy. I felt so cool driving in this kickass car smoking weed and listening to music so loud it drowned out anyone around us. Oh and did i mention more joints were burned? When we arrived in Toronto we met the guys at an underground parking lot where we drank some beer and smoked even more joints, which caused us to miss the opening act "Overkill" of whom none of us were really fans of so it wasn't a big deal.

The next thing I knew a police cruiser pulled up and the cop started questioning us. A lot of guys had dope on them and Mike's car was loaded with stolen stereo equipment. Just as things were starting to look bleak, the officer's partner called him over to another vehicle he was checking out which was full of guys drinking booze and carrying on. The cops diverted their attention to said vehicle and allowed us to go on our way.

As we stood in line at The Concert Hall a.k.a. The Masonic Temple, I gazed over all the people in line. There were thrashers, punks, skin heads, etc. all walks of life loved Slayer apparently. Even though it was winter I didn't even notice due to how inebriated I was. We finally got inside after presenting our tickets and the first thing I did was head to the merch table with Noel where I purchased a sweet "South of Heaven" concert shirt, it had the album cover on the front and an image of the band on the back with the caption "World Sacrifice Tour 1988" I was so giddy to finally own my first concert shirt that wasn't handed down to me from my sister.

Noel was a HUGE Slayer fan and he wanted to make a bootleg recording of the show with some equipment he snuck in. Noel wanted to sit up in the balcony so he could get a proper recording. I decided to sit with him since this was my first show and needless to say I was a bit intimidated to join the action on the floor. The other guys left their jackets and shirts they had purchased with us, then headed down into the danger zone. Noel and I had a great spot, front row of the balcony. His recording device was ready to roll, his joints were ready to burn, and the time had finally come...