Event:	Slayer
Written by:	destroyah
Published:	03.07.2008
Galleries:	Slayer in Tallinn by martsepp (6)

Disclaimer: The following review contains ethically sketchy comments about the indigenous peoples of Papua, lesbians and women as a species in general. I would like to take this opportunity to remind people who may find this offensive of the following - if you can't take a hit, stay out of the pit and if you can't take a joke, then you are an idiot.





There are a lot of things that can get a man down but surely enough the main ones must be:


1. the inability to consume alcohol due to certain social obligations and?

2. Kuru


On that particular Tuesday morning I was more concerned with the first menace and less worried about the illusive strain of a New-Guinean virus. The prospect of not being able to not not consume alcohol wasn't at all a not scary one. There - either I just pulled off a quadruple-negative or just sounded plain retarded, or possibly both, in which case I must be the Grand Architect of the Universe who, according to legend, is omnipotent.


To rephrase the above paragraph in a more rational manner - I couldn't drink as I had to be working the next day.


There were other problems - I had wasted all my money at Hard Rock Laager '08 and even though I had managed to earn some funds back during the days between the festival and Slayer's gig, I had succeeded in wasting it all again primarily on tobacco and other similar substances, making my lungs cry out in despair and my brain very, very happy. Still, all was not good in Pleasantville. Looking down at the piece of paper before me I noticed I had scribbled down the following statement:






The emphasis was abundantly clear. I knew I had meant business.


Still, I consoled myself with the thought of seeing Slayer in a few hours, for the first time ever and possibly the last, since rumors about the band splitting up after the next album were circling around me like a bunch of Great Whites around a carcass of a morbidly obese sperm whale. I knew I had to take in as much as I possibly could from this gig but the question was - could I manage it sober?


I thought about this for a second.

I took a sip of beer.

I thought about it again.


I reached for my wallet and to my surprise it still packed a considerable punch. There was now only one thing I could do - I called at work and told them that unfortunately I would be unable to attend to my duties the following day on the account of me getting very drunk, very soon.


As human beings, they understood.

As employers, they protested.


But it was too late. As soon as I cut them off I rang up a couple of friends and confirmed my possible presence at a small Slayer afterparty and intoned that the possibility was getting more real by the second. I peeked at the clock on the wall - it's hands formed a worrying angle. I grabbed my jacket, sprinted out the front door and left my Slayer songlist playing steadfast and loud, to great discomfort of my neighbors.

Now, the Estonian Exhibitions Hall is, despite it's utterly ridiculous name, a rather good place for gigs. That is to say, it is big. I gazed at the gathering crowds as a few friends of mine provided me with some help in drinking my beers - an effort on their part which was largely unappreciated by yours truly. Human Ground, set to warm the crowds up for Slayer served as a small warning sign - the sound was not exactly brilliant. I didn't stick around to see them either on the account of having seen them before on manyer occasions. They are rather good, but their main attraction is a growling female vocalist, which is cool in my book. Women can do anything they want, as long as they'll sit quietly in the corner, and not vote.

With a roar of thunder (which coincidentally may indeed have been actual thunder) the crowd greeted the stage technicians, working on last minute preparations and setting things up for Slayer. I decided I needed to get a little closer to the stage. I was tired and un-drunk (yet not fully sober), so I decided not to get too close, nor in anybody's way. I settled down at a reasonable distance from the stage and promised myself I would stay there.


My brain implied that I could get a little closer if I really wanted to, since there still was enough space. So I did.


The audience erupted as ?Darkness of Christ" announced Slayer's unholy presence. I felt I needed to get a little closer again.


By the time, ?Disciple" kicked in with incredible force, I was already in the middle of the moshpit, fighting off the hordes of Nobody In Particular and having a bloody good time at it. It was awesome. Exactly how awesome, you may ask? I was surrounded almost exclusively by sweating men who were either wearing leather or hardly anything at all - and yet I couldn't have been more happy if I were stranded on the isle of Lesbos with a gazillion bi-curious lesbians. Cause while lesbians are surely one of the most ingenious inventions of the modern man, they can't shred for shit. Kerry and Jeff however, can.





I'm not entirely sure as to when did I go airborne for the first time during the gig, but by the time ?Raining Blood" was unleashed, I had surfed the crowd three times, two of which ended up with me crash landing behind the security barrier. To further illustrate the awesome awesomeness of the gig, I fought my way back to the pit on both occasions, that despite the dramatic lack of oxygen, survivable temperatures and other factors necessary for sustaining human life in front of the stage. But what else was I to do. The setlist was impressive - ?Mandatory Suicide", ?Die By The Sword", ?War Ensemble" and ?South of Heaven", to name a few.

It was actually only on the next day when, upon looking at the photos and video footage of the gig I realized how laid back and calm Slayer had been on stage. There was nothing excessive about their performance, their sole purpose was to destroy all humans in their immediate vicinity. I imagine the folks at the back may have been slightly disappointed by the lack of movement. Although I must add, the guys didn't seem old and tired - in fact, their matureness was even invigorating. They seemed to radiate the kind of reverence only the Great Old Ones could.





By the time ?Angel of Death" spread it's wings and with a ghastly scream announced the imminent Apocalypse in the Exhibitions Hall, I was soaking wet. Even though I was properly beat up and dog tired I still craved for more. Slayer had completely annihilated the place.


Furthermore, it had inspired me. It had inspired me to call in sick the next day.


I reckon it must've been around six o'clock when I finally made it back home safe and relatively sound. I knew that what I had just seen had been the ?Gig Of The Still Very Young Year", there was no question about it. I could tell judging by the grinning, albeit exhausted faces of the Slayer crowd that I wasn't the only one. Foolishly, I had thought just before the concert that no-one, not even Slayer, could shake off my veil of weariness from all things routine. I had been gravely mistaken and I couldn't be happier about it.

There I was - wrecked, tired and satisfied. There was no point in going to bed, so I decided to wait til I passed out. Suddenly I noticed a small piece of paper lying on the desk, the word on which had voiced my mood the previous day. With a swift motion I grazed it with a pen. It now looked like this:









Images courtesy: Mart Sepp / http://www.delfi.ee/