Up to that point, my musical tastes had been largely banal. Nick at Nite told me that the Monkees were pretty "swell" - and I loved listening to them. I'd dipped my toes into the Bon Jovi and Guns N' Roses well a bit too, but I wasn't head over heels into them like some of my peers.
Then came Garage Days. When I heard that first Hetfield hum at the beginning of "Helpless" followed by Lars' ensuing drum beat, I was interested, but it was the Krunch that got me; that metal guitar Krunch that I became instantly addicted to and haven't been able to shake for almost a quarter of a century.
I bought "...And Justice for All" a few days after hearing "Garage Days," and I can remember lying on my bed, listening to the "Blackened" intro, looking at the four guys wearing black on the folded out tape insert, and wanting to be them. I remember listening to and reading the lyrics, lyrics more intense and intelligent than any I'd ever heard before. Lyrics filled with anger and honesty, lyrics filled with powerful disdain. At fifteen, this band was just what I needed. I worked my way back through Metallica's catalogue, picking up "Ride the Lightning," and "Master of Puppets," and "Kill 'em All."
Oh, those were good times.
I started wearing black. I started drawing poor imitations of Pushead skulls on my notebooks at school and on the bottom of my skateboard. I learned how to play bass and formed a band with some friends.
As I said, Good Times.
Metallica was my gateway band into the thrash metal world.This was all before the internet, kids, and when you wanted to find out what was going on in the world of your favorite band, you had to pick up Metal magazines at the newstand, which I quickly did to keep up with the Cap'n's of Krunch. In the process my eyes were opened to Anthrax, Megadeth, Slayer, Danzig, Suicidal Tendencies, Pantera, D.R.I., the Misfits, and so many more. I'd found my musical niche, a niche that perfectly reflected my attitudes and sensibilities. For a misfit that didn't know where to look for camaraderie and community, Thrash was a godsend. The music gave me a spark of identity, and the courage to do whatever I wanted without fear of scorn.
Okay. Fast forward twenty-two years to August of 2010. I went over to St. Paul with a friend of mine to see Testament, Megadeth, and Slayer live at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium. Before the show, Dave Mustaine, the lead singer and guitar virtuoso of Megadeth was siging his autobiography at a Borders in Minneapolis.
Despite what anyone thinks about Mustaine's demeanor or attitude, no one can dispute that he is one of the founders of the thrash movement, so I was stoked to meet him at the signing. After standing in line for close to two hours, I finally got up to the table and said, "Hello, Dave."
"Hello, Scotty." - (my name was on a post-it in the book)
"Just wanted to say that I really like your music. I've been listening to you guys and thrash metal in general for twenty-two years."
At this point, Dave stopped signing and thought for a moment before saying: "Twenty-two years. That's a long time, man."
I smiled. "Yes. It is."
"Well thanks for your support, Scott. I really appreciate it."
"Sure man. Have a great show."
And that was that. My encounter with Dave Mustaine. It was cool. Later that night, Megadeth put on a good show, and Slayer killed - no pun intended.
At thirty-seven years old, I like lots of different kinds of music. I listen to everything from Johnny Cash to Gwen Stefani to Lagwagon. And I still listen to Thrash Metal. And it's still my favorite.
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