The first weekend of July proved a highly significant one for metalheads on this Sphinctered Isle, what with the Ozzy/Black Sabbath swansong, Back to the Beginning, in Birmingham and, the following day, Slayer’s much-welcome return to London, headlining an all-dayer at Finsbury Park. This eagerly anticipated date was the culmination of a three-date return to UK soil, which had the thrash titans gracing Cardiff and playing a tributary mini-set at the aforementioned Back to the Beginning show before making their way to the Big Smoke.
Five bands stepped up to support, some loved and anticipated by Yours Truly, others not so much, and yet others unknown quantities. Yet nearly all of them somehow felt like stepping stones, footnotes even, to the main event.
Danish death groovers Neckbreakker kicked things off with a set that got the early afternoon moshpits started. Kudos for their energy and enthusiasm, even if I couldn’t really distinguish one song from the other.
Next came a band I’d not seen live for decades, hardcore high-rollers Hatebreed. Jamey Jasta and co. got the crowds surging all the more with classic entries from their catalogue such as ‘I Will Be Heard’, ‘Live for This’ and the blistering ‘Destroy Everything’ plus some interesting tracks I hadn’t heard before like ‘In Ashes They Shall Reap’ with its eminently chanty chorus. A solid catch-up set, in the end.
On the other hand, Mastodon is very much a band whose appeal has always escaped me. This set didn’t do much to bring me round on that score. Despite the presence of the odd standout such as ‘The Motherload’, I found their set more of an endurance test than anything, and the flailing limbs of the overhead crowdsurfers certainly didn’t help matters. Still, they made a point of crediting the UK, particularly London, for having a particularly strong, career-elevating fanbase, citing their first show over here, at the Underworld, as especially pivotal.
Anthrax, also fresh from the previous day’s Sabbath /Ozzy farewell, perked things up considerably, putting on another solid set. Sadly, the continuance of flailing, enjoyment-obstructing overhead limbs and bodies had me moving way the fuck further back to take in their set (walking through circle pits helps a lot in these instances). Joey, Scott, et al played an economical but effective set that touched on many of their staples like ‘Madhouse’, ‘Indians’, ‘Metal-Thrashing Mad’, and my personal favourite, Judge Dredd ode ‘I Am the Law’.
Having found myself a less annoying vantage point, I eagerly awaited the next act, Viking enthusiasts Amon Amarth, only to encounter not one but *two* work colleagues. Though nodding acquaintances on the job, we greeted each other warmly. The camaraderie continued throughout the set as we compared notes as to how often we’d seen Amarth, bellowed along to stormers such as ‘Guardians of Asgard’, ‘Shield Wall’, and ‘Raise Your Horns’ and even joined the rowing crew for ‘Put Your Back into the Oar’. Good times. As with when I first saw them when they co-headlined with Machine Head in 2022, Johan Hegg and his warband put on a great show, bringing a combo of inflatables and incendiaries to the stage. However, in something of a disappointing surprise, they forestalled ‘The Pursuit of Vikings’ from this set—for fucking shame! Maybe it’s a headline-set privilege these days.
After a brief dispersal to grab some booze (them) and take a piss (me) following Amon, we reconvened in roughly the same spot for libatation, eagerly awaiting the Slaytanic set to come. Turned out that one of my two Bulgarian colleagues was a “Slayer virgin”, there to have his aural cherry well and truly popped. Eventually, the band provided something in the way of lube by means of a retrospective video of their career that also got the Slayer-seasoned like myself amped up for the carnage to come.
And, holy fuck, did things go off! Opening with the momentum-building descent to damnation that is ‘South of Heaven’, the band set the audience a-thronging with a well curated setlist of classics from across the span of their tenure, from the relentless fury of ‘Die by the Sword’ to the latter-day onslaught of ‘Repentless’, almost every era—minus those post-Divine Intervention ’90s albums—had a decent showing. Some more than others, admittedly. As a huge Seasons of the Abyss enjoyer, I was especially chuffed to hear not only the storming’ War Ensemble’, the lurid ‘Dead Skin Mask’ (which, according to him, has become a love song for frontman Tom Araya and his missus), and, of course, the title track but also the excellent ‘Spirits in Black’ and the incendiary ‘Born of Fire’.
From a more panoramic perspective, other standouts included the damning ‘Disciple’, the unexpected ‘Reborn’, ‘Hell Awaits’ with its pyrotechnic shenanigans—a visually striking moment—and the intermingling of ‘Postmortem’ and ‘Raining Blood’ with a cover of Black Sabbath’s ‘Wicked World’ toward the end. The capping-off of proceedings with ‘Angel of Death’ their most controversial, Mengele-influenced number, proved to be the cherry atop the Slaytanic sundae, though I’m surprised displaying visuals of the Austrian Autocrat and his henchmen at an open-air visuals didn’t get the band done for “hate speech” in 2020s London.
Whatever issues Tom, Kerry King, et al may have had that led to the band’s 2019 disbanding were not evident onstage. Tom especially seemed to be having the time of his life, engaging in a friendly and welcoming manner with his audience and getting near sentimental with his speech at the end. After hearing about his earlier movement-restricting back issues, it was good to see the bloke on stage again, albeit in a more physically tempered fashion.
This having been my first time seeing the band live since the passing of Jeff Hanneman, it was also good to see Exodus’ Gary Holt taking and handling the baton, or rather guitar, with the acumen warranted.
So, yes, a glorious return to the stage for one of my favourite bands, metal or otherwise, meeting, and at times exceeding, all the expectations and anticipation built up since its announcement. I could go on about the tracks I wished they’d played, but with Slayer, it’s inevitable that some favourites will be passed over in favour of others. Selection- and performance-wise, they did a banging job, and coupled with the suitably strong reception, one would hope for more shows of his ilk, maybe even some indoor dates, in the foreseeable future.
And my Bulgarian colleagues, both virgin and veteran, certainly weren’t complaining either.
~MRDA~
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