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Slayer Live in Eugene, OR

By Virtualpoopspecs,
Friday, February 22, 2002 @ 4:10 PM

Slayer Live At McDonald Theate

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I was beginning to think that my Valentine’s was destined to suck ass in a most unpleasant way. Being a single man on this particular day is sure to trigger the "fuck this" reflex.

Then I heard news that those lovable bastards from Slayer were to be playing at the McDonald Theater in Eugene. This was great because I live out in the country, and usually have to drive at least 100 miles for a show. I know that others have it much worse, but it still licks bung.

I had only been to the McDonald Theater once before. It was a movie theater, and I saw Saving Private Ryan there. But not even that could prepare me for the sheer carnage that was to unfold before me. This was my 6th Slayer experience, and every time it was pure chaos. A volatile high- paced mixture of sweaty guys kicking the poo-poo out of one another, women making out, bleeding fists, mouths, noses, eyes and ears; vomit, beer, and pot smoke while "speedy-grindy-DEATH" blasts from a P.A. pushed to the limit. It's a beautiful sight. No wonder the promoters dubbed it the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.

As we stood in line, I began to get really antsy. It began to sink in that the original lineup of Slayer was here. Dave Lombardo was inside, and I was going to see him play. We occupied our time by thinking of questions to ask the hot little girl working the box office. There was a drunken kid that didn't look a minute past 15 who could puke upon command. About every 4 minutes the wild roar of hundreds of people screaming "Slayer! Lombardo! Fuck yeah! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” and various other things filled the chilly winter’s eve. We entertained ourselves by yelling "Creed, Limp…, Jars Of Clay, Stryper, ect... and watching the reactions of others. There was a young man drunk with the anticipation of Slayer banging on the doors wanting in. He caught a door to the face when they opened it.

Diecast and Hatebreed opened. I'm not familiar with either, but I thought they were cool. The drummer for Diecast kicks ass (I think). During Hatebreed I had a strange encounter. A man on a deadly mixture of alcohol and heavy metal came up to me, and began to gently head butt my shoulder. I put my fist there to let him know that I was not the proper surface for such activities. He looked at me, smiled, patted me on the back, and began head butting my fist. My brother Haven, and his girlfriend Emily were right next to me. Emily saw this, and began laughing hysterically for minutes. If she had testicles she would have busted a nut.

Finally the lights went down, and the intro tape began to roll. The look of terror covered the faces of the security guards who had never had to deal with something like this before. Smoke machines began to roll. By the time they kicked into “Deciple”, you could not see them at all. When the time for the verse came, you could see Tom's puckered face slowly emerge from the fog as he began singing. He had trouble finding the mike, and was almost late coming in. The fog soon cleared, and all of the band became visible.

I always get a kick watching Tom live. When he isn't singing he has this kinda goofy "I'm high as a kite/look at you ugly fucks" grin/smirk. Kerry, and Jeff have these intense “I'm playing speedy-grindy-death. I'm an intense motherfucker” looks; and Tom is just smiling. He made a few mistakes, and seemed like he wasn't too into it. But considering that his father just died, that is perfectly understandable. Given the circumstances, I think he did really good. Dave Lombardo is a fucking monster. His playing was in top form. He played Paul's stuff amazingly well, even adding his own personal touch to some of the parts. Other than a few vocal mistakes, it was a flawless performance. Yet they didn't sound like they were just going through the motions.

The crowd was pretty rowdy. I've seen worse, but it was still pretty intense. It got really tight where I was at up front.. There was this one guy that was being a dick. He thought I was trying to make off with his troglodyte girlfriend that probably has a bigger dick that I do. He was elbowing my in the side of the head while grabbing her by the throat. If I could have moved, I'd have removed his jaw for being a prick. Not so much for elbowing me, but more because he was roughing up his girlfriend. That doesn't fly with me. Security ended up getting him.

The band played a good mixture of new and old songs: “Payback,” “Die by the Sword,” “Stain Of Mind,” “Bloodline,” and all of the old classic staples that round out a Slayer set. A tried and true formula from a band that has the sense to leave the machine that works fine alone.

They seemed in good spirits. I saw Dave smiling and laughing quite a bit. I certainly hope they get all nostalgic, settle their past differences, and reunite for good. Then they can get an apartment together, fall asleep in each other's arms and we'll hear from them later.

They tossed their picks and sticks out when they were done. Tom thanked everyone for coming, and for all of the emails. I hope they were impressed with us enough to return. They went on to the next destination, and I returned to my existence as a single 22 year old. I celebrated with a crappy chicken sandwich from 7-11 that had been under a heat lamp for hours, which soon induced catastrophic bowel failure. I knew it would kill me. I knew I had to do one dumb thing. I was smart enough to get tickets for the show before it sold out, so I guess the sandwich was my little way of balancing things out. Good show. "2 cocks up...Way up."

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