As an impressionable youth, I used to occasionally run into Kerry King at my local punk club / cheap bar. Nice guy. Unfortunately, we all made a point of not bothering him too much, and — as you point out — probably missed out on some Profound Rock God Life Advice.
More than one of my Hessian-thrash-bros had the various Slayer tees (The HELL AWAITS TOUR stands out in memory,) but alas, never owned any myself. regrets.
…but Kreator? check. Voivod, check. (the only one still in my possession -heh POSSESSED!- to this day.) Corrosion of Conformity, check. Celtic Frost, check!
I don't think a single one of us ever had a clue that someday in the distant 00's, douchebags in Los Angeles/NYC/Tokyo/etc. would be paying upwards of $300 a pop for our sweat-stained, holey rags circa 1987.
Back in my day, we had to make our own metal.
Even so, I think Kerry King deserves eternal praise from you kids for telling you to "Eat pussy 'til your jaw drops off."
As an impressionable youth, I used to occasionally run into Kerry King at my local punk club / cheap bar. Nice guy. Unfortunately, we all made a point of not bothering him too much, and — as you point out — probably missed out on some Profound Rock God Life Advice.
More than one of my Hessian-thrash-bros had the various Slayer tees (The HELL AWAITS TOUR stands out in memory,) but alas, never owned any myself. regrets.
…but Kreator? check. Voivod, check. (the only one still in my possession -heh POSSESSED!- to this day.) Corrosion of Conformity, check. Celtic Frost, check!
I don't think a single one of us ever had a clue that someday in the distant 00's, douchebags in Los Angeles/NYC/Tokyo/etc. would be paying upwards of $300 a pop for our sweat-stained, holey rags circa 1987.