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Ozzfest
2004
PNC Bank Arts Center,
Holmdel, NJ � July 16th, 2004
By Ed Rivadavia |
Another year, another Ozzfest�but there
was actually something special about this 2004 edition: it didn�t suck!
In fact, Ozzfest 2004 featured the best line-up in at least five years
� maybe ever. Of course I was duly psyched for it, and, metal geek that
I am, would have loved to catch every band on the bill. But when I realized
Lacuna Coil (the rotating second stage line-up�s chosen openers for my
show) would be starting their set at a ridiculous 9:30am � earlier than
I clock in at the office � I decided that even my enthusiasm had its limits.
Instead, I arrived around 2pm and I can�t say I was surprised when I found
the Ozzfest military drill running AHEAD of schedule, making me miss the
highly touted Unearth and only grab the final moments of the 20 minute
set by hardcore pretty boys Everytime I Die. This really wasn�t enough
for me to gauge their music, but I did wonder how such MTV-ready young
men would explain themselves if they trapped in a back alley by the members
of Agnostic Front�
Anyway, the first proper set I witnessed
was by the fast-rising Lamb of God, who, as often as I�ve seen them in
the past few years, once again proved themselves an exciting and reliable
live entity. Refreshingly in our post nu-metal universe, Lamb of God writes
real songs based on real metal riffs (�Subtle Art of Murder & Persuasion,�
�Pariah�), and the ever-improving stage presence of vocalist Randy Blythe
easily makes up for drummer Chris Adler�s still hard to get used to, weirdly
cavernous sound (the result of skins wound tighter than a jazz drummer,
or Maiden�s Nicko McBrain!). The kids seemed accepting enough, happily
beating the s*** out of each other at Blythe�s command during manic set
closer �Black Label,� and leaving no small expectation for the band�s next
album, which, in a surprising turn of events, will be their first for normally
metal-shy major label Epic. So let�s hope the suits can figure out what
to do with Lamb of God and that they, in turn, deliver the goods.
Next up were New Haven, Connecticut natives
Hatebreed � probably the day�s only 100% hairless band! But regardless
of follicle challenges, their competent brand of groovy metalcore fed right
into the nu-metal-friendly Ozzfest crowd. Not really my cup of tea, but,
to the band�s credit, despite seeming a little one-dimensional at times,
tracks like �Betrayed by Life,� �Straight to Your Face� and the sub-Bizkit
riot-inducer �Tear it Down,� maintained a high level of intensity throughout
their pulverizing set. What�s more, angst-ridden accusations like �Empty
Promises� and �Live for This� (containing the great lyrics: �If you don�t
live for something, you�ll die for nothing�) resulted in festival-perfect
shout-alongs. In sum: Hatebreed may not be perfect, but they�re perfect
Ozzfest material.
Speaking of �perfect� Ozzfest material,
the lovable mutants in Slipknot would surely also qualify for said distinction,
having effectively made their name at the 1998 (or was it �99?) edition
of the festival. Then, as now, they exerted total crowd control with their
high-energy shenanigans, inciting the crowd to lunatic moshing while mauling
their instruments and various percussive set-ups with everything from drum
sticks to baseball bats! Amazingly, their by now old-news gimmick (masked
freaks with numbers for names wearing identical black boiler suits) still
works; and with 95% of the under-12 concertgoers wearing Slipknot t-shirts,
it�s a fair assumption the band is therefore set for success for years
and years to come. Of course the gimmick factor also helps disguise the
fact that sonic hate-fests like �Spit it Out,� �The Heretic Anthem� and
new track �Duality� often blur a troublesome dearth of exceptional songwriting
through pure sensory overkill � their often confusing reflection of the
numerous band members� wide array of metallic interests colliding into
a nearly dissonant maelstrom of styles. Indeed, who has time to register
the music with so many people doing so many things on stage? I for one,
quickly grew bored and decided to make a strategic exit when Slipknot instructed
everyone down on their haunches before ordering them to �Jump da f*** up!�
� yeeeesh!
Black Label Society was the first band
to take the main stage, and because of that they were unfairly sacrificed
to one�s need to recuperate, rehydrate and relax for a minute before facing
Ozzfest 2004�s principal onslaught of bands. This moved right along with
the arrival of Pantera legend Phil Anselmo�s primary band these days, Superjoint
Ritual. As most metal fans know by now, this particular collection of Southern
outcasts (including Crowbar/Down/Eyehategod mainstay Jimmy Bower and mini-Anselmo
candidate, bassist Hank Williams III) is custom fit to deliver anything
Mr. Anselmo (once again sporting a very retro, Cowboys from Hell-era Mohawk)
damn well pleases. More specifically, caustic ditties like �Alcoholik,�
�Waiting for the Turning Point,� and �Personal Insult� (dedicated to the
soldiers serving overseas) comprise a rude, crude, uneasy but effective
blend of metal, hardcore and punk, which, surprisingly, almost always work!
Of course, whether they work or not becomes a moot point when forcibly
shoved down our throats by the ever-controversial Phil Anselmo � still
one of metal�s most entertaining and naturally charismatic frontmen, bar
none. And, much as Superjoint Ritual is no Pantera (Anselmo�s comment that
�We mean to be underground� fooled no one), there�s certainly promise of
them
getting there eventually.
The official wildcard of Ozzfest 2004 was
up next, and few would argue that Norway�s Dimmu Borgir represented a welcome
foreign addition, as well as ultimately deserving their surprisingly prestigious
position on the bill. Sure enough, as their creepy intro tape began to
wind down, the modern masters of symphonic Scandinavian metal absolutely
steamrolled Ozzfest�s quizzical, but accepting audience with explosive
opener �Spellbound by the Devil.� Fearing not the sunshine that fell upon
their vampiric, corpse-like face paint, armed to the fangs with leather,
studs and spiked leggings (probably discarded at Salvation Army long ago
by Slayer�s Kerry King), and backed by a seizure-inducing strobe-light
show, the sextet in fact appeared to be supremely confident and well at
ease in their unfamiliar surroundings. Quite a sight to see, vocalist Shagrath
shrieked his case front and center, guitarists Silenoz, Galder and clean-singing
bassist Simen Hestæs head-banged about the stage, and drummer Reno
and wonderfully creepy keyboardist Mustis haunted them all from atop their
risers, the latter�s eerie synth lines slicing like sharp knives through
the din. Meanwhile, the Scandinavian invaders drove their mini-masterpieces
� climaxing in the positively stunning �Progenies of the Great Apocalypse�
� like stakes through our hearts � and we liked it!
Then, as though we hadn�t been frightened
enough already, those terrifying banners decorated in SS-like Iron Eagle
emblems were unfurled to announce the coming of Slayer, who instantly took
the dying afternoon sun and snuffed it out. The first in Ozzfest�s headlining
triumvirate of metal giants have rarely been known to bring the full intensity
of their live performances to a festival situation; but since the reinstatement
of original drumming colossus Dave Lombardo a few years back, the thrash
pioneers seem to have found a new lease on death, errr, life. Seriously,
no disrespect to former replacement skin-pounders like Jonathan Dette or
the great Paul Bostaph, but the bottom line is Slayer simply never sounded
�right� without Lombardo�s thick, meaty beats � much like AC/DC never sounded
as good with any drummer not named Phil Rudd. And now that he�s had some
time to re-acclimate himself to his band-mates� inimitable pace, skill
and precision, all-time thrash classics such as �War Ensemble,� �Die by
the Sword,� �Chemical Warfare,� �South of Heaven,� and �Raining Blood�
were given the thrashing they rightly deserve. Condensed into a festival-ready
greatest hits set (only �Angel of Death� went sadly missing), these demonic
masterpieces achieved maximum, brain melting results. And I do mean �melting�
since the summer heat was positively roasting the whole amphitheater by
now.
Willingly trapped in our sweltering purgatory,
we braced ourselves for the imminent arrival of the evening�s biggest attraction:
Judas Priest. Make no mistake, everyone here � including Ozzy and Black
Sabbath � knew that it was the reunited Priest who made Ozzfest 2004 most
special, and as their imposing stage set began being constructed (metal
drums, metal stairs, metal platforms standing on metal pitchforks�metal
everything!), few concert goers could contain their giddy excitement. But
before we go there, a quick trip down memory lane�
The last time I�d seen a Rob Halford-led
Priest live, was at the Rock in Rio 2 Festival, in January 1991 (yes, I�m
an old bastard!). That night, a nervous and under-rehearsed Guns n� Roses
were headlining only their second show of the Use Your Illusion tour, and
mistakenly forbade Priest � themselves trailblazing unchallenged across
the planet on their comeback Painkiller jaunt � from using all of their
staging, pyro, and, worst of all, originally allotted playing time. The
result was a positively overpowering display by a pissed off Judas Priest,
who, despite these backhanded maneuvers, proceeded to hand Axl & Co.
their asses. With the crucial difference that Priest in fact had Sabbath�s
happy blessing, tonight was to be no different; the jilted ferocity displayed
on that South American night long ago merely replaced by cool, calm, commanding
execution.
Ah yes, just as Slayer�s show had seemed
to light the furnaces of Hell all around us, Priest proceeded to cool us
in icy stainless steel � following the electrifying opening tandem of �The
Hellion� and �Electric Eye� (Halford making his entrance through the band�s
giant eye backdrop) with a slew of mid-paced metal anthems (�Metal Gods,�
�Heading out to the Highway,� �Touch of Evil�) that seemed to consciously
avoid Slayer�s addiction to speed. It worked, and while more unexpected
song choices such as �Beyond the Realms of Death� and �The Sentinel� had
die hard fans screaming their heads off, the colossal �Victim of Changes�
was only marred by an unnecessary solo by Glenn Tipton, who simply can�t
stand relinquishing the spotlight to his guitar sparring partner K.K. Downing
for more than a second. Such small qualms aside, there was little to fault
to be found in additional standards like �Breaking the Law� and �Green
Manalishi�; nor the triple-threat encore of �Hell Bent for Leather� (requisite
Harley and all), �Living After Midnight� and �You�ve got another thing
Comin�.� Personally, I could go the rest of my days without ever hearing
the last two again, but there�s no questioning their required presence
in tonight�s excellent re-acquaintance experience between band and audience.
Finally, it was Black Sabbath�s turn to
shine, and their obvious desire not to � leaving all props at home in exchange
for a bare set-up containing only their drums and Laney amplifiers � made
for a pleasantly intimate performance as opposed to Priest�s stadium-sized
display. Opening with nothing less than the seminal �War Pigs,� the legendary
foursome of Ozzy, Iommi, Geezer and Ward stood close together, all of them
dressed in the requisite black (although in Ozzy�s case, the Prince of
f***ing Darkness was comfortably attired in sweatpants and trainers). And
yet, during first few numbers �N.I.B.� and �Fairies Wear Boots,� Ozzy looked
very much the worse for wear, and with Geezer and Ward also blowing a clam
or two, it came down to ever-reliable sheriff and riff-meister Tony Iommi
to pace about the stage in concern, occasionally shooting worried glares
at his cohorts over the odd missed beat or out of tune bit of singing.
Thankfully, everything seemed to finally click for Black Sabbath when Iommi
hit that stomach-churning bent string that characterizes the colossal riff
of �Into the Void.� In the space of that moment, all present had been officially
welcomed to Heavy Metal University, first subject: Doom 101; and beautifully
sluggish monstrosities like �Black Sabbath� and the incomparably droning
�Iron Man� soon followed suit in providing additional lessons.
Now there was no questioning Black Sabbath�s
metal supremacy, and, by the time Ozzy told us to �GO MOTHERf***ING CRAZY!!!
for the 20th time that night, the four grandfather figures before us looked
significantly younger and sprightlier than when they�d clambered into place
an hour earlier. Living caricatures of their fans� teenage fantasies they
may be, but few were those cynical enough to resist Sabbath�s charms at
this late hour, as Ozzy clowned and raged around the stage (head regularly
dunked in his trusty water bucket), Iommi improvised his soloing codas,
Geezer Butler attacked his bass, and the extremely geriatric looking Bill
Ward pummeled his kit with heroic effort and control. Taking no prisoners,
the foursome plowed right into the scariest peace song ever written, the
classic �Children of the Grave,� before teasing us with the opening strains
of �Sabbath Bloody Sabbath� on their way to as apocalyptic encore of �Paranoid.�
This proved more than suitable a finale for the tenacious, but depleted
audience who waited this long before racing to their cars�and, from all
appearances, most of them did!
Thus ended what must surely qualify as
the best Ozzfest in many a year, and, in terms of the headliners, quite
simply one of the greatest metal line-ups ever. Think about it: in order
to top the pure metal quotient of Sabbath, Priest and Slayer, next year�s
Ozzfest will have to round up no less a threesome than Sabbath, Iron Maiden
and Metallica�here�s hoping they at least try.
Bonus: Ozzfest
2004 Main Stage Photo gallery - Click here
for photos of Slayer, Superjoint Ritual, Black Label Society and Dimmu
Borger from the August 14th Ozzfest!
Ed Rivadavia is an industry
veteran and contributor to the All Music Guide.
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