Big Bertha the pickup truck was not herself. My vehicle was over-revving,
lurching, and I smelled something burning. I was afraid she wasn’t going to
make the trip to Jones Beach. I picked up my friend Javier from downtown
Flushing and headed back home, where we were able to use the minivan. Javier
helped me take out the car seats to make room for Beast and Sid, and we headed
back to downtown Flushing to pick them up. We got a late start, but we weren’t
going to miss a minute of SLAYER.
Slayer has embodied the best of thrash metal for nearly four
decades. Coming to the world in the early 1980s California, it mixes the
rapid-fire, unrelenting aggression of hardcore punk with the guitar virtuosity
of more traditional heavy metal.
Over the years, Slayer has become easy shorthand for
aggressive music that rejects any and all self-indulgent niceties or attempts
to soften its image. Years ago I was dating a woman who was destined to soon
break up with me. Even though I was coming off a long period of unemployment I
shelled out to treat her to a performance of Handel’s ‘Messiah’ at Carnegie
Hall. One of my biggest regrets of that time was not screaming “SLAYER!!!” in the
famous venue between movements. I would have enjoyed the performance much
better and it would have brought that relationship to a quicker and more
merciful end.
I’ve had the good fortune to see Slayer several times,
including with the definitive lineup that included JeffHanneman before his untimely death in 2013 and drummer Dave Lombardo.
“No Jeff, no Dave, no thanks,” was a refrain
that some Slayer fans abided by in these later years, and I hadn’t seen them
since Lombardo was fired in 2013 after disputes over money.
For whatever reason—and maybe being in the same band for
nearly 40 years is reason enough—Slayer is calling it quits. If you needed
another reason to pay to see Slayer again, this was it. They even patched things up with Dave
Lombardo.
So on we rolled out to Long Island to see Slayer’s final
show in the New York City area. Opening for these godfathers of metal were
other excellent thrash metal veterans Anthrax and Testament along with Napalm Death and Lamb of God. The name of
the concert venue there changes every few years to that of a different
corporate sponsor, but everyone just calls it “Jones Beach.”
Jones Beach can be lacking as a concert venue. Even though I
quit the drinking life long ago, it is an outrage that the amphitheater only
allows alcohol in one restricted area with no view of the stage unless you pay
even bigger bucks as a VIP. And the prices on concessions are ridiculously
inflated. While I had enough cash in my pocket, I was not going to pay $5.50
for a bottle of soda that costs $2 elsewhere. Six dollars for a hot dog? No
thanks.
But Jones Beach gets good shows. A lot of the big concert
tours don’t come to the five boroughs. I asked the peanut gallery of social
media why this is. The two biggest concert venues within the five
boroughs—Madison Square Garden in Manhattan and the Barclay’s Center in
Brooklyn—share space with sports teams for much of the year, so there are fewer
concert dates available. Also, the city is more expensive and so much of a
logistical nightmare it is easier to go elsewhere.
Forest Hills Stadium is a great
place to see a concert. I saw The Who there a few years ago and it was a great
show. It’s intimate for a stadium and it has the kind of food and craft beers
that both younger and older crowds enjoy. That venue tends to more mellow acts
(Van Morrison, The B-52s with Culture Club, Imagine Dragons) because it’s in a
residential area and the people who own homes in Forest Hills probably aren’t
very interested in listening to live thrash metal at 9 p.m.—their loss.
Whatever the drawbacks of Jones Beach, the Slayer show
rocked. All the opening bands were good; no one disappointed. And Slayer played
the best kind of farewell show they could have played. They closed with ‘Reign
in Blood’ and ‘Angel of Death’ and then thanked the crowd for supporting them.
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