A Slayer concert is not just your run-of-the-mill concert. The experience is a lot like a lecture in human anatomy and physiology. If you stand close enough to the speakers, you will learn where your liver, spleen, pancreas and all three colons of your large intestine are.

That's because they will be reverberating in their precise locations. The only thing I couldn't find was my rectum, and I think that was because Slayer's arrhythmia-pounding tore the you-know-what out of me!

Now, you would think all of the above was leading to a less-than-flattering review. Ha! Fear not head bangers. This old gal recognizes substance when she sees and hears it. Yes, the music was probably a little too loud for my taste. After all, I actually had experienced a feeling of almost passing out while I was up front. The intensity of the energy exuded from Tom Araya's bass, double-beating of Dave Lombardo's double-bass drum and the ripping, grinding, and hammering of Kerry King's guitar was nothing like any thrash-metal virgin has ever endured.

The thing I find most amusing is the fact that prior to joining the band, Tom Araya worked as a respiratory therapist. It's funny how a man can go from helping one find their own breath to making music that can take one's breath away.

Founded by Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King in 1981, while residing in Huntington Park, California, Slayer has proven it is not just another flash-in-the-pan, west-coast band. In spite of very limited airplay of their music, they are ranked as one of the top four thrash-metal bands ever—along with Megadeth, Anthrax and Exodus. Based on their latest CD, they show no signs of slowing down.

Photos by BrianBaldwin

The lyrics are disturbing because they force one to face the reality that, as a society of people obsessed with material possession and commercialism, we choose to sweep the ugly things that exist in our world under the rug rather than face them unconditionally.

An example of this is the song "Jihad", off of the new CD. It's a song about how one is so fanatical about their religious convictions that they kill innocent beings in the name of their God. Now we all know, and are aware, of how sensitive and controversial this subject is, but as part of our political-correctness training, we feel almost obligated to put the subject up on a safe shelf...hidden in our minds...behind the door where we keep our innermost thoughts and fears.

It's only when we dare venture to a concert, such as the one Mr. Hanneman and Mr. King shove down our throats, that we are obligated to regurgitate the ugly topic, bringing it to the most center part of our frontal lobes and conscience.

Here's where choice comes into play. We can behave self-righteous and act disgusted about the cover of their new CD, which sports a twisted version of a crucified Christ, and cringe at the enervating sounds of the melodies and raise brows over the leave-nothing-up-to-the-imagination lyrics—or we can get our priorities straight.

After all, where would you rather be, in Iraq, holding an M16 to the head of a mother and a baby like some of our young men and women are probably doing right now, or listening to some disturbing music in the safety of your own living room, knowing that you have that choice—thanks to those very same young men and women, to turn it off?

• Official Website

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Submitted by rdvkvqqpvw • 2007-07-06 08:12:43

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