Metal is Life.

By some stretch of the imagination, I only began listening to Slayer in the past year. I came of age musically listening to Metallica, amongst other bands. I was aware of the “Big Four”, but never got around to really listening to anything beyond Metallica and the occasional Megadeth. Pandora got me hooked “Medusa”, an Anthrax song. From there, I bought the respective album. Gasp from the audience, spending money on music! I know, right. Then I found another anthrax album amongst my sister’s possessions that she’d left behind after she moved out. Fantastic stuff.

Which left Slayer.

Raining Blood, man, Raining Blood.

In my opinion, Metallica represents an evolution of musical sound, which caused a lot of people to flip a shit that they dared to expand their musical horizons. Slayer on the other hand, is a lot like AC/DC in that they make the same album over and over again. And frankly, it’s a rather nice album. (On both accounts.) With the power of technology, I’ve since downloaded a Slayer anthology of albums.

Anyway, I was listening to Slayer this morning and it planted a seed of thought in my head. Why does metal appeal to me? What is this feeling that overtakes me when a really strong riff takes hold in my head? I used to think it was darkness. It feels like aggression, for sure. One can’t deny the anger inherent in most real metal. Not that anger is the only emotion.

Metal is independence, even if it’s finding common ground amongst others. Metal is moving away from the masses. It’s finding your own cord. It’s recognizing the struggle. Where nu-metal had the distinct feeling of giving up, resigning, and surrender (see: KoRn), good metal drives you to never give up. Perhaps that’s why I identify with it so much. Techno gives me feelings of joy and euphoria, but so many times it feels delusional. There’s a certain harsh honesty with metal.

This is me. This is my life. I know my past, and I know my struggles. Things are so much better than they used to be, I will be the first to tell you. But the moment I forget how I got here, all is lost. And that’s why, somewhere, metal is the soundtrack to my story. Quiet solemn music for the emotional poignancy. Horns trumpeting at the climaxes. Bass beeping and bopping at the moments of joy. Wilting cords and voices for the sad moments. But the struggle. Even the quiet moments of hard work when nobody’s watching and nobody will appreciate, there must be a bassline. A feeling. A cry from the inside of the soul. A screech echoing into eternity that says, “This is where I stand.”

As Shakespeare wrote, it is better to die on your feet than live on your knees. (Apparently, this quote is actually attributed to Emiliano Zapata Salazar, leader of the Mexican Revolution.)