On August 9th, 2008, in what is inarguably one of the worst sounding arenas on the east coast, I had the privilege to witness the Metal Masters Tour.
The Crowd
The happiest bunch of regular, hard working people I’ve seen in a long, long time. Beer, beer and more beer flowed. Many horns were raised. Even security and concession stand workers were in high spirits. Fathers and sons banged heads together in a Super bowl of metal. It was a beautiful thing, kind of like listening to a tag-team lecture on Metal given by a group of venerable professors.
Testament
What can I say about one of the original thrash bands, besides the fact that Alex Skolnick fucking kicked ass? Unfortunately, the acoustics at PNC Arena render thrash into an unholy disaster, so I had a hard time picking out what Testament was playing. But there was no mistaking when they launched into New World Order and Practice What You Preach; the crowd went nuts. On the whole, and despite the poor sound, their set was legendary, but short. With three major acts to follow, I wasn’t surprised.
It was great to see Chuck Billy up there as well. Not many people survive cancer to do what he does. More power to him.
Motorhead
Surprisingly long set, delivered with Lemmy-esque aplomb. Does it really mater what songs they play? They’re Motorhead, and as long as Lemmy is craning his head back to hit those scratchy notes, everything is good. Godamn, was it fun! Motorhead is like seeing your favorite bar band play Motorhead, except that, well, they really are Motorhead. Plus, the head sound guy must have woken up, because they sounded incredible. They guy next to me remarked that they sounded just as good as they did in 1980 at L’Amours in Brooklyn. And he wasn’t even that drunk yet.
Heaven and Hell
Circles and rings, dragons and kings, and a really short, sixty six year old guy that still belts it out better than any metal vocalist alive. In addition to the the fact that he is super, super appreciative of the people who come to see him, RJD is still the master orator. Emit whatever sacrilege you want about ‘Sabbath: The Dio Years’; hearing Heaven and Hell open with the Mob Rules is highlight number one of the fucking century.
Song two, Children of the Sea; the first power chord, and the place goes completely insane in a collective Proustian moment of joy. I could sense the memories in the air of that first joint smoked while listening to Heaven and Hell for the first time back in 1980.
Interestingly enough, Heaven and Hell is the same Sabbath lineup I saw during the Mob Rules tour in 1982. All things eventually come full circle. I could have listened to these guys for five or six hours; it wouldn’t have been enough.
Judas Priest
Priest opened with Nostradamus, and I was immediately terrified that they would offer an entire rendition of their disastrous new album. My fears were assuaged when they launched into Metal Gods. Clad in a hilarious, glistening, full-length metal coat, and crouching over his mic, a bearded Halford sounded just as incredible and searing as he did on the Screaming for Vengeance tour. Tipton and Downing . . . still unbelievable. All solos played note-for-note from the original.
The problem with seeing Priest is that the catalogue is just too massive. You can hear Devil’s Child, but be upset that there’s no Desert Plains. You can hear Hell Bent for Leather, but yearn for Solar Angels. I suppose it’s a good problem to have. And I was not entirely surprised that there was nothing from Sad Wings of Destiny. There are just not enough hours in the evening. I would have loved a nice, long Victim of Changes, though.
Highlight of the set: Dissident Aggressor.
One of the best parts of Priest’s show was when Ian Hill came up to the crowd to exchange hand-slaps and shoulder nudges with the audience. It’s obvious that even the reserved Mr. Hill has attained the status of legend. Very heart-warming.
Highlight
About halfway through Priest’s set, I turned around and saw Alex Skolnick standing behind me in the general population. He was MOBBED by admirers and enjoying every minute of it. Good for him.
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