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...

Kabal Bites The Dust

Just a quick post for today to give everyone a heads up that I've decided to eliminate the page "Kabal Bites" from the contents of this blog.

For those who have no clue what I'm talking about "Kabal Bites" was a page on this blog that served as a daily news feed to let readers know if there would be a blog post for the day.

Over the Christmas holidays I dropped the ball with the page and in turn it ended up not being updated for over a month. I figured its pretty easy for someone to tell if there is a blog post for the day or not simply by checking this page.

I came to the conclusion that the page was essentially pointless and redundant so it is now ancient history. I merely wanted to bring this to the attention of my readers who may have been wondering why the page disappeared.

Thank you for your time and your continuous support as a reader of "Heavy Ghetto" we will return to the story tomorrow.

Cryptic Slaughter

During my numerous visits to Sam the record man in the Bramalea City Centre, there was a certain record I kept seeing that I pondered taking a gamble on, but never did as I feared it might be terrible and a waste of my hard earned money.

Eventually my best buddy Jerry ended up acquiring it on cassette tape somehow so I finally had the chance to give it a listen. The album was entitled "Convicted" by a band named "Cryptic Slaughter"

The album cover boasted some pretty cool artwork that was reminiscent of something I would find in one of my underground alternative comic books I was so fond of. The image depicted four guys, the members of the band, in a jail cell being guarded by a uniformed skeleton. It was safe to assume they were a crossover band seeing as three of the members looked like typical thrashers, and the fourth member, the vocalist of the band, looked more like a punker, with long, black, spiked hair similar to Mr. Jonny Rotten from the Sex Pistols.

Upon my initial listen I really didn't know what to make of it. The guitar sound was a bit tinny, the bass was typical sounding, the singer had a great screeching voice similar to A.M.Q.A. and their drummer was nothing note able, in fact he pretty much played the same beat in every song. Mind you it was a blast beat before the days of grind core, and any drummer will tell you they are not the easiest beats to play. As a whole, the band was not the tightest by any means, but I've always felt a bit of looseness and sloppiness is just another element of this genre of music.

All in all this band really seemed to be lacking skills and technicality, yet for some reason I absolutely loved them! I couldn't quite put my finger on the reason why I loved them but soon enough I was able to sum it up in one word: Heart.

Even the most technical bands can fail if the members aren't a cohesive unit with heart and passion. As talented of musicians as they might be, if the love isn't there it shows through in the music. Although Cryptic Slaughter were lacking in the skill department, they had more heart than you could carry and more passion than you could imagine, which outweighed their being musically challenged. Yet another wonderful and magical element that makes up the definition of hardcore music.

F.B.I.

One day while "moshing in the food pit" as we called it (hanging out in the food court) at the Bramalea City Centre, I was chilling with the EBS boys carrying on and having some laughs, when we were approached by a group of guys who knew them. They shot the shit for a few minutes and then they were on their way. I asked the boys who these dudes were and they informed me they were members of yet another Brampton band called F.B.I. which stood for Fucking Brainless Idiots, another acronym which you all know I hold so dearly to my heart.

From what I gathered you had to be a giant to be a member of this band, as they all seemed 7 feet tall to me, except for one of their guitarists Mike who was just shy of 6 feet. These guys were the epitome of the word "Thrasher" as they all adhered to the dress code and boasted some of the longest locks I had seen in my town.

There was another Mike in the band who played the strings, he was a tall, lanky, withdrawn looking fellow who always seemed to have the same blank, expressionless look on his face. I'd always see him sporting his D.R.I. painters cap that I was extremely envious of. For the life of me I could never and still cannot remember which Mike played bass and which Mike played guitar, if I had to guess though taller Mike would be my pick for bassist.

Their drummer Pete a.k.a. "Spidey" was also a tall, lanky fellow with jet black long hair. Despite the fact that he was a really nice guy, he had that look to him like he could possibly be a serial killer, the kind of guy you wouldn't want to piss off or run into in a dark alley, and he wailed away on his drum set with furious intensity & the look of a mad man on a mission.

Then their was "Tex" who I believe was the lead guitarist of the band but don't quote me on that His hair wasn't super long, but he boasted some tight ringlets that made me perceive him as Thrash Metal's answer to Slash from Guns n' Roses. Tex was always sporting a big toothy grin, his pearly whites sparkling like they were made of gold. Tex always seemed happy & lighthearted so I quickly assumed he was the joker of the group.

Last but not least was their vocalist, Tim. Tim was the only member of the group that didn't have long hair, in fact he was quite the opposite, he had no hair! No he wasn't bald, it was shaved by choice. Tim didn't really dress like a skinhead or a thrasher, so I chalked him up as a crossover guy, which in turn brought a crossover element to the band in my eyes and opinion.

A few weeks later I had the privilege of seeing F.B.I. perform for my first and last time, sadly I never caught another show of theirs, but the one show I did see was killer! I stood at the back of the room cooking b.t.s for me and my friends while having my ears and senses assaulted by the thrashing onslaught that was F.B.I. From what I can recall, their style reminded me of the bay area thrash sound I'd grown accustomed to listening to bands like Metallica, Exodus, & Testament. They were heavy as fuck and even though I only saw them that one time, they had a new found fan.

It was a great pleasure to get to know some of the guys over the years, and they were all great dudes who I easily got along with. Thinking back to that night I remember walking home from the party with my friends discussing how fucking heavy F.B.I. were, we had gone to see E.B.S. perform, yet we were blessed with a pleasant, unexpected surprise in F.B.I. another very important and detrimental piece to the puzzle that made up the Brampton scene.

A.M.Q.A.

That band was called A.M.Q.A. which stood for Apple Maggot Quarantine Area and they were from . The tape Jay made for me had 2-4 songs of each band, and there were 4 songs by this particular band, Baby Sitter, Big Fat Muffin, Face Plant, & A.M.Q.A.

The recording wasn't the best quality by any means but that was part of what made hardcore music so magical. These kids were finding the means to get their bands out there by any means necessary, which a lot of the time meant crude 4 or 8 track recordings. This also gave the music such a rawer sound that suited it perfectly. I recall some bands re-recording older songs down the road in proper studios and to me it just didn't feel or sound as hardcore because of how polished up it was.

None the less A.M.Q.A. was some straight up radical raw crossover classic ness! I don't know what it was about them that appealed to me so much. First and foremost was the name which I thought was great. It was silly and playful yet somewhat dark and ominous sounding to me, and it was an acronym which you all know I'm a huge fan of.

The guitar sound was so raunchy and rambunctious that still to this day when I hear any of their riffs I want to start throwing down and boogieing. It almost had a tin can crunch quality to it if I had to try and explain it.

The bass wasn't super noticeable due to the overwhelming ness of the guitars, but it was there and was solid without question.

The drumming was some pure straight up insanity! Definitely some of the fastest I had heard to date, perhaps not the most technically sound but I've always felt a little bit of loose sloppiness is an element of punk music that makes it what it is. This drummer had some serious blast beats too before the days of death metal and grind core.

The singer was anything but that, this dude was a straight up screamer with a bit of a higher pitched voice that crackled and growled as he delivered his lyrics, but he also did a bit of cleaner sounding stuff on other recordings I discovered many moons later. With all that combined they just killed it and they had an amazing energy and chemistry about them.

A.M.Q.A. were without a doubt my new favourite band. I think the song "Face Plant" sealed the deal as I was a skater and here was a skater related song. I always loved discovering new bands that nobody had heard of and as I went around spreading the word it was apparent that nobody knew of these guys in my local scene. Even decades later when I brought them up amongst my hardcore elitist friends they would look at me puzzled and confused.

Over the last 10 years I've been in correspondence with Kevin a.k.a. Toast, the bands drummer and he was kind enough to hook me up with some material of theirs over the years. It was also an honour to receive great compliments from him in regards to my own music. As it stands I now have everything they ever put out with the exception of 2 or 3 songs that were on a compilation that nobody seems to have available. I took it upon myself to create a bandcamp page for the band a few years ago to preserve the memory and the music of what I feel is a truly slept on classic act that is important to the history and the foundation of crossover music.

Enjoy and long live A.M.Q.A.

www.amqa.bandcamp.com

The Adventures of Zany Mandrill

After "Music Plex" opened in Brampton, me and the boys would usually hang out there on a fairly regular basis. For those who don't know the "Plex" is a music store that opened in B-Town, it catered to musicians. You could buy drums, guitars, or whatever else you needed for your musical pleasures. Normally when we went there Craig and Jerry would be checking out guitars while I was browsing the drums, microphones, and the magazine rack.

One day while hanging out there we started talking with one of the new employees. His name was Jay and he had just moved down here from the western coast of Canada. If I remember correctly Jay started talking to us because he had noticed whatever band shirts we were wearing at the time. Turned out he was also big into thrash and hardcore.

Jay was a super nice guy and a pretty kick ass drummer, he had left the dreams of his band "Zany Mandrill" behind to venture out east. Jay was one hell of a drummer and he was always half heartedly complaining that our band already had a drummer in Ryan.

Before long Jay was hanging outside of work with us on a personal basis, he didn't know anyone period so we were his new family. Jay was now an official part of our clan, he now hung out at the mall with us as well as came to all the parties with us, and one of the coolest and beneficial things about him was the fact he was of legal age to purchase alcohol for us minors.

The thing I loved the most about Jay however was the fact he was so eager to introduce me to all sorts of bands I had never even heard of. Jay invited me over to his place once, well his room in the boarding house he was living in downtown Brampton. I had never been in such a place and I found it rather bizarre. We sat in his crammed little room listening to his choice selections while I went through his record bins with a fine tooth comb. Jay had all kinds of cool looking albums from quite a few bands I had never heard of. We didn't have the time to delve into everything so Jay decided to make me a mix tape.

The next time I saw Jay he had the mix tape ready for me just as promised and he didn't fail to deliver. I was introduced to shock rockers "The Mentors" three fat guys who looked like your typical fathers wearing black kkk hoods. Jay also introduced me to "Nardcore" a scene made up of several bands from the Oxnard area in Southern California, the most noteworthy bands being Dr.Know and Rich Kids on LSD.

It seemed that no sooner than the tape was placed in my hands, Jay disappeared like a thief in the night. We went to Musicplex only to find out he didn't work there anymore. I was very saddened that my new friend had upped and vanished, I was even concerned as he had no family down here. I suspected the worst. Eventually I got a letter in the mail from Jay one day, he had moved back out west to pursue his dream as a musician. We kept in contact for awhile via snail mail but eventually that stopped and we never spoke again.

Jay definitely left his mark on me and he has always been in my thoughts. Even now 25 years later I still find myself occasionally trying to locate him on the Internet, he just made that much of an impact in the small amount of time he was in my life.

There was one band on the tape Jay made for me however that really caught my attention and I am forever indebted to him for that, to this day when I listen to them I am filled with happy thoughts and memories of him...