Slayer 66 2/3: The Jeff & Dave Years. A Metal Band Biography. Read Online Free
Author: D.X. Ferris
King’s public persona? Maybe something. And what does it take to keep an art-based business enterprise running in the black, decade after decade? A few comparable contrasts underscore just how remarkable Slayer’s career is. Bear with me; it all ties together.
The book 33 1/3: Slayer’s Reign in Blood is more accessible to the casual reader. It features more details about the Def Jam days and the exciting time surrounding the Reign album. If you want to read about the cover art or witness the hilarious story about rappers pretending to be Slayer, give it a look. If you want to know what was going on in Lombardo’s mind around those fateful weeks before he brought a knife to practice and quit the band, this book is for you. It features some outside testimony from other artists about what makes Slayer a remarkable group — but not nearly as much as my previous piece.
If you’re looking for details about the band’s gear, this book won’t help you. (Check out the Guitar World and Modern Drummer archives if that’s what you want.) It does include cursory accounts of the band’s entire discography. Future Slaytanic historians would do well to assemble a “Slayer in the Studio” book.
I don’t cover the band’s singles and EPs; Joel McIver’s Slayer book documents them well.
Slayer have everything they need to produce some truly worthwhile official documents. If they’re not sanitized like typical rock bios, sanctioned memoirs could provide the ultimate account of Slayer’s hazy history. Even after revelations from inside and outside the camp, Araya and Hanneman’s offstage lives remain mysterious, maybe moreso than the group’s inner workings. It would be fascinating to see a frank and open discussion of the band’s finances, periodic hiatuses, and surprisingly limited touring history. But Slayer, for all their amazing gifts, are not prolific storytellers, especially about their personal lives. That wall can be frustrating, but rock and roll is better when it’s mysterious.
King has the ultimate treasure trove of Slayer artifacts; mere photos of his collection would make for the most kick-ass coffee-table book ever. Slayer’s management team employed ace photographer Andrew Stuart for the final decade of Hanneman’s life. And Kevin Estrada has taken official pictures for years. Both certainly have a book worth of striking images. (I tried to license some of Stuart’s breathtaking pictures from Hanneman’s final concert for this book, but the band is saving them for official use. I understand, and I can’t wait to see the images on a full-color page or posters, as large as possible.)
Regardless, this account of Slayer’s years with Hanneman and Lombardo should illuminate one of the music business’ great tales of perseverance.
When I wrote the previous book, Slayer’s rare distinction was its consistency: After some nasty splits, drummer Dave Lombardo had rejoined the band. His return reaffirmed Slayer’s existence as four unassuming California guys with a uniquely volatile chemistry in the studio, on stage, and off.
The rock world has other great legacy groups. Teenagers may attend Rolling Stones concerts. They do not, apropos of nothing, stop what they’re doing and shout “FUCKIN’ STONES!” the way Slayer heads holler “ FUCKIN’ SLAYER! ” Twenty-somethings listen to U2, a band that’s older than they are. But rabid young people do not carve RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS into their flesh, as the occasional Slayer fanatic does to salute his favorite band. To quote Slayer’s longtime benefactor/producer Rick Rubin, “People lose their mind at Slayer gigs, and rightly so.” 1-2
Slayer and its fans manifest a phenomenon like no other.
“There are no fair-weather Slayer fans,” observes KNAC/That Metal Show DJ Will Howell. “You’re in or you’re out. I don’t know anybody who’s just into Slayer for a year.”
In the metal community,
The book 33 1/3: Slayer’s Reign in Blood is more accessible to the casual reader. It features more details about the Def Jam days and the exciting time surrounding the Reign album. If you want to read about the cover art or witness the hilarious story about rappers pretending to be Slayer, give it a look. If you want to know what was going on in Lombardo’s mind around those fateful weeks before he brought a knife to practice and quit the band, this book is for you. It features some outside testimony from other artists about what makes Slayer a remarkable group — but not nearly as much as my previous piece.
If you’re looking for details about the band’s gear, this book won’t help you. (Check out the Guitar World and Modern Drummer archives if that’s what you want.) It does include cursory accounts of the band’s entire discography. Future Slaytanic historians would do well to assemble a “Slayer in the Studio” book.
I don’t cover the band’s singles and EPs; Joel McIver’s Slayer book documents them well.
Slayer have everything they need to produce some truly worthwhile official documents. If they’re not sanitized like typical rock bios, sanctioned memoirs could provide the ultimate account of Slayer’s hazy history. Even after revelations from inside and outside the camp, Araya and Hanneman’s offstage lives remain mysterious, maybe moreso than the group’s inner workings. It would be fascinating to see a frank and open discussion of the band’s finances, periodic hiatuses, and surprisingly limited touring history. But Slayer, for all their amazing gifts, are not prolific storytellers, especially about their personal lives. That wall can be frustrating, but rock and roll is better when it’s mysterious.
King has the ultimate treasure trove of Slayer artifacts; mere photos of his collection would make for the most kick-ass coffee-table book ever. Slayer’s management team employed ace photographer Andrew Stuart for the final decade of Hanneman’s life. And Kevin Estrada has taken official pictures for years. Both certainly have a book worth of striking images. (I tried to license some of Stuart’s breathtaking pictures from Hanneman’s final concert for this book, but the band is saving them for official use. I understand, and I can’t wait to see the images on a full-color page or posters, as large as possible.)
Regardless, this account of Slayer’s years with Hanneman and Lombardo should illuminate one of the music business’ great tales of perseverance.
When I wrote the previous book, Slayer’s rare distinction was its consistency: After some nasty splits, drummer Dave Lombardo had rejoined the band. His return reaffirmed Slayer’s existence as four unassuming California guys with a uniquely volatile chemistry in the studio, on stage, and off.
The rock world has other great legacy groups. Teenagers may attend Rolling Stones concerts. They do not, apropos of nothing, stop what they’re doing and shout “FUCKIN’ STONES!” the way Slayer heads holler “ FUCKIN’ SLAYER! ” Twenty-somethings listen to U2, a band that’s older than they are. But rabid young people do not carve RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS into their flesh, as the occasional Slayer fanatic does to salute his favorite band. To quote Slayer’s longtime benefactor/producer Rick Rubin, “People lose their mind at Slayer gigs, and rightly so.” 1-2
Slayer and its fans manifest a phenomenon like no other.
“There are no fair-weather Slayer fans,” observes KNAC/That Metal Show DJ Will Howell. “You’re in or you’re out. I don’t know anybody who’s just into Slayer for a year.”
In the metal community,
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