RUSH/Neil Peart and Nerd Fandom at Its Finest, Including a Homemade "Outdoor Drama" - by Kevin Montavon

Music fans worldwide were devastated this week to learn of the passing of a man who many consider not only the greatest rock drummer of all time, but also a lyricist par excellence as well; Neil Peart of Rush. For me, as I am sure it was for thousands, if not millions of Rush fans, it felt like I lost a dear friend.

Rush was the first band that I became a fan of after a stretch of 5 or 6 years of listening to nothing but Kiss. I still remember the day at Boy Scout summer camp when I heard the crazy long-haired older kid from down the street playing this amazing band on his jambox. There was this long thundering intro that built up to a driving metal soundscape before crashing out into a soft voice that was singing...a Bible quote? What was this? Some Christian band? But wait, then this thunderous roar began again and the most high-pitched voice I had ever heard started singing a song about priests (I was a Catholic, so these words intrigued me) of some Temple named Syrinx. Then there was this song about a guitar, and how these priests flipped out over the discovery of said guitar, and how it was going to ruin the world like it did the world of “ancient man,” then there was a song with this guy dying by a waterfall, and finally a song about an alien force conquering the planet. I was HOOKED. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. From that moment I became a fan.

Rush fans are notorious for being nerds and geeks, whatever those words actually mean in the year 2020. It seems they are a badge of honor today, but trust me, not so in the 1980's. Rush fans were the original fanboys. Hell, go watch the movie that is called Fanboys where Rush fandom is portrayed as nerd-culture chic alongside the main storyline of the movie, which deals with Star Wars worship. As I was reminiscing about my early love for Rush, I realized that I may indeed be a candidate for the ultimate Rush geek. Because let me tell you, at that young impressionable age, this whole storyline concept thing that I was hearing on 2112 really fascinated me. And the wheels in my head started to turn.

Here's where the story takes a side turn for a brief moment. Gotta set the stage here...pun intended. Growing up in Ohio, we have this thing here called an “outdoor drama” in Chillicothe, Ohio. It's called Tecumseh, and it's a play that is presented in an outdoor amphitheater in a gorgeous natural setting, that depicts the life of the legendary Shawnee leader. Around the time I first heard 2112, my older sister had taken me to see Tecumseh. Also around this same time, I had been on vacation with my Dad and brother in Cherokee, North Carolina, where the three of us had watched another outdoor drama called Unto These Hills. This one depicted the history of the Cherokee Indian Tribe. I was very much a fan of both of these presentations, and I had a great idea to do something similar in my own back yard…..literally.

I rounded up the neighborhood gang, consisting of my younger brother, and the three kids who lived across the street. All five of us were within just a few years of each other in age. At this time, I was the only real rock music fan in the group, but I was quite the ambassador already. Through my skills of persuasion I managed to talk the other kids into the acting out of 2112 as our own outdoor drama, in front of our parents. It was on. This was no small presentation either. We had stage sets – a stone barbecue with a Rubik's cube placed on top of it served as the “Great Computer” of our Temple Of Syrinx, and after a quick set change the same stone structure served as the cave where the protagonist dies.

We had choreographed battle scenes when the aliens attacked, complete with live ammunition in the form of firecrackers and smoke bombs (this was the early 80's...safety concerns not quite being what they are today). My brother and the neighbor boy were in charge of the effects. They went a little overboard, placing a couple of smoke bombs right under the chairs of a few parents. I even wrote a libretto (which I wish I still had today), explaining the storyline of the album. It was neighborhood Broadway theater at its...finest? Unfortunately, or fortunately as the case may be, no photos or any kind of permanent record exists of this performance. I don't think any of the parents snapped any Polaroids (and if they did, I've never seen any), and there was definitely no social media then. So you're just going to have to take my word for it that this display of nerdiness actually happened.

The outdoor drama wasn't the only way I overindulged on Rush as a youth. The live album All The World's A Stage, coincidentally recorded on the 2112 tour, became the soundtrack whenever I wanted to play “rock band.” At one point I actually had my entire room converted into a “stage” where I “performed” that album, along with selections from Kiss Alive I & II “in concert” on a daily basis. I even recruited my Dad's assistance in this endeavor, making use of his carpentry skills to help me create air-guitars of the highest quality. I had Les Paul copies, Stratocaster copies, and of course I had a Rickenbacker Geddy Lee-style bass. None of these guitars had actual strings on them, or actually worked. If only I had put as much effort into learning to play a real instrument as I did in posing and rocking out with my models, I might have actually accomplished something as an adult musician.

I was fortunate enough when I got older to actually see the real Rush in concert. I eventually saw them 18 times over the years. I never missed a show in whatever locality I was living. And every time I saw them, I became that same little kid, acting out his fantasies in front of a large mirror and dreaming of the day I could set foot on that stage myself.

I am deeply saddened over the death of Neil Peart, but I will choose to reflect on all of the joy that he brought to my life, beginning in those storied days of youth, when anything seemed possible. - Kevin M.

Uploaded by TheFfilesmusicpage on 2017-07-31.

Slayer Concert Review: Columbus, OH 11/12/2019 - by Kevin Montavon

The Slayer "Last Campaign Tour" rolled into Columbus on Tuesday, Nov 12th. Having seen them nearly every time they have played Columbus since 1986, but having missed their last stop here, as well as this tour being advertised as their final trek, I had to catch this show. When the opening acts were announced for the tour, there was one act that sold me on going. In the opening slot was Phil Anselmo, the former lead singer of Pantera, and his band The Illegals, performing for the first time in decades a full set of that band's songs. I was a huge Pantera fan in their heyday, seeing them 17 times in the course of 7 years, from 1991-98. I was unfortunately also present at The Alrosa Villa in December of 2004 when Pantera guitarist Dimebag Darrell Abbott was murdered onstage along with 3 others during a concert by his follow-up band Damageplan. My Pantera bonafides run deep. I don't listen to the band that much anymore but they still loom large in my concert history. So there was no way I was going to miss this show.

I had received word from friends who saw tour stops in other cities that Phil was hitting the stage at 5 minutes to 6:00, so I made sure I was inside Nationwide Arena by 5:45. I went straight to my purchased seat location, towards the back of the lower level and took my seat in a largely empty section. The cavernous Nationwide Arena had been scaled down to half-size for this show, and the upper level had been darkened and curtained off. The result was a smaller arena feel, while still providing a venue 3 times the size of Slayer's usual spot in town, the Express Live Indoor pavilion. The only other time I had seen Slayer in an arena over the years was in 1991, on the Clash Of The Titans tour with Megadeth, Anthrax, and Alice In Chains...a show where they turned the reserved seating Battelle Hall, in what is now the Columbus Convention Center, into a raging general admission mosh pit where security couldn't remove the rows of seating fast enough. The show tonight was far from sold out, but it was a respectable draw for a record-cold November weeknight, and still over twice the audience size that Slayer normally plays to in this market. In fact the only larger audience they have played to in Central Ohio was when they played the main stage at Rock On The Range in front of a full soccer stadium.

At 5:55 PM, the houselights fell and The Amboy Dukes' 1967 album track "Down On Phillip's Escalator (D.O.P.E.)" played over the PA, as The Illegals took the stage. When the song ended, Phil walked onstage with arms raised. Taking the mic he said, "This is for Dime and Vince [Pantera drummer Vinnie Paul Abott, also deceased]", and the band launched into Pantera's "Mouth For War". The still-filling general admission floor became an instant swirl of moshing, and the audience took over backing vocal duties flawlessly. The band was tight as could be with the lead guitarist in particular channeling his inner-Dimebag. As for the man of the hour himself, Phil has seen better days. His voice and stage presence are a mere shell of their former glory. At one time in the 1990's no one could touch Phillip Anselmo on the stage. While it was somewhat disheartening to watch him slowly walk back and forth, throwing his arms in the air as if trying to start a Metal wave in the cavernous hall, it was also a testament to his status as an elite frontman that even in his diminished capacity he could command the attention of every eye in the house. For pure nostalgia it was great. The audience continued to sing along with every song, to the point where Phil would just let them sing the chorus of many songs. After a far too short 7-song set, he bid us all a good night and asked us to help him "end this the right way" as we all sang together "And she's buying a Stairway to Heaven." Should Phil eventually decide to do a full Pantera revival tour with the other surviving member, bassist Rex Brown, I would be first in line for tickets.

Ministry was next. They too have a unique connection to Pantera history in Columbus. They played here on the same night Dimebag was murdered. I had to choose between going to The Newport that night for their show, or the cheaper priced Damageplan show. As they hit the stage this evening, I once again was lost in the throes of nostalgia, as at least half of their set was literally made up of the dance songs of my college years. Industrial bangers like "Burning Inside", "Thieves And Liars", and set closer "Jesus Built My Hot Rod" had me time-traveling to the late 80's and early 90's Ohio State south campus bar scene. They even found time to squeeze in the 1,000 Homo DJ's cover of Black Sabbath's "Supernaut", which went over great with the metalhead crowd. Newly sober frontman Al Jorgensen, author of one of the most absurd autobiographies in music history, actually appeared to be having fun on stage. Amazing.

Primus took the stage next. On paper, the band sticks out like a sore thumb on this lineup. But in execution, the audience loved them. It didn't hurt that the house had filled up considerably during the course of the two previous acts. They played a set of career highlights, but the funnest part of their set for me was when they covered "Cygnus X-1" by Rush. I had last seen Les Claypool and company all the way back in 1994 when they opened for Rush on the Counterparts tour, and I had witnessed my final Rush show in this very arena, so the moment was a bit surreal. They finished their set with their mid 90's MTV hit "Jerry Was A Racecar Driver", sending the masses on the floor into another whirlpool of moshing.

A large curtain was dropped to cover the stage, and after listening to most of AC/DC's "Back In Black" album over the PA, the moment had finally arrived...Slayer were about to begin their final set ever in Columbus. If I told you I didn't go total fanboy when their intro tape started, and began screaming "SLAAAAAYER" at the top of my lungs, acting like a 15-year old girl in the throes of Beatlemania, I would be lying.
Slayer, being the extraordinarily consistent band they have always been on the live stage, played a set of songs covering all eras of their career. The big chestnuts of their catalog, the material from their first 5 albums, were mostly saved for the second half of the set, resulting in a crowd that stayed hot throughout the entire night. Speaking of hot, the pyro budget for this tour must be outrageous, as blasts of fire and large banks of flames burned behind them for a significant part of the show. I could feel the heat all the way at the top of the scaled-down arena. It was quite kind of the guys to keep us all so warm on a freezing autumn evening.

When the last notes of "Angel Of Death" had faded, the guys remained onstage with the houselights up, interacting with fans, handing out guitar picks, drumsticks, setlists, etc. They stayed out there for an extraordinarily long time, even as many people filed out of the building. For most of this time, frontman Tom Araya stood motionless at the edge of the stage just staring at the audience and the arena, soaking it all in. He finally walked around onstage a bit with the other guys until they all eventually left him by himself to speak to us one last time. His voice cracked as he said, "Thank you for being a part of my life." The mood was very somber, and you could feel Tom's sincerity that this really was the end.

As I type this, rumors of a Mötley Crüe reunion tour are swirling for 2020, and The Black Crowes are already comfirmed for a reunion next summer as well, illustrating that no one ever stays retired in Rock. But if this was indeed Slayer's final show ever in the Buckeye State, then it was a fitting end to the decades of destruction they have wrought on the concert scene. Long live FUUUUUCKING SLAAAAAYER