Slayer, South of Heaven (1988)

I’m quite sure the metallic sphere of the internet is pouring with Jeff Hanneman tributes today — I honestly haven’t even had the chance to look — so I’ll do my best not to add to the slew of dudely cliches, but it seemed only appropriate in light of Hanneman‘s passing at the age of 49 to end the week with 1988’s South of Heaven. Probably any Slayer record would’ve done the trick, since he made his mark on all of them, but South of Heaven marked a sort of maturation point for the band, where they really established the dynamics that would carry them forward for the next decade-plus after the raging and ultra-pivotal speedfest that was Reign in Blood, and well, I like that.

Never having been a guitarist, I don’t listen to Slayer with that kind of ear, but it’s still pretty easy to pick out which leads are Jeff Hanneman‘s and which belong to Kerry King. King‘s solos have that bull-in-a-china-shop quality that one finds mirrored in his persona — all aggression with little time or concern for finesse. Hanneman was hardly what you’d call progressive in his level of technique, but his relatively nuanced approach helped set up one of heavy metal’s most formative dual-guitar attacks, setting a precedent in thrash that many try and most still fall short of achieving today, and where King‘s style is so much his own, Hanneman always struck me as more of a guitarist’s guitarist, someone people could hear and try to figure out what he was doing — which I’m pretty sure, if you actually get to that point, you’ve already learned how to play a guitar without realizing it. So kudos.

I wasn’t around for Slayer at the beginning, but I remember hearing them at around the age of 12 and I definitely remember them leaving an impression that in the years to come would develop into a metallic loyalism that I carry to this day. I’m glad I got to see them as many times as I did, as they were and I suppose still are one of those acts who’ve grown to embody a certain brand of extremity that, although others have come along since and played faster, louder or heavier, still retains a sense of being unsurpassed. And like King, and bassist/vocalist Tom Araya and drummer Dave Lombardo, Hanneman was an essential piece of what made Slayer‘s thrash that much more visceral than their counterparts in other bands, and an essential piece of what has made their albums endure for these many years. And just as their work has made an impact on heavy metal like none other — not to say they’re the most influential metal band ever, because they’re not, just that they’ve impacted the genre in a different way — so too is his contribution to that legacy by extension unmatched.

On my way to the Clutch show last night, I had the radio news on to see if they’d mention Hanneman‘s death at all. More than an hour I listened — through the whole cycle of news and then some — and there wasn’t a word about it. This is someone who’s work I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say has touched more than a million lives over the course of the last 30 years, and nothing. For me, it underscored the wider cultural irrelevance of this music, just how much of a niche it is that someone like Hanneman, who penned the lyrics to “Angel of Death” and “Raining Blood” and so many others, can go unmarked by the wider populace even as an entire subculture enters a period of mourning. It felt bizarre to listen for it and even more bizarre when I didn’t hear anything.

Like I said, the internet will likely be flooded with tributes of varying shittiness to Hanneman‘s impact on metal, so I’ll leave it there, but it’s a sad occasion and if I didn’t at least make some note of it, then I might as well cut my hair and get a real fucking job because this whole project is worthless.

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I end the week like I began it: In a hotel room. After I got out of work, The Patient Mrs. and I drove north and are staying in Providence, RI, for the night en route to look at more houses in Massachusetts early tomorrow. I’ll head back to Jersey before tomorrow night, but if you happen to be in Boston, Gozu are doing their release gigs with weekend at Radio in Somerville. I think the first one was tonight. I was really hoping to have that interview up before those shows, and it’s a serious letdown that I didn’t get to do it. I’ve never so seriously entertained the notion of using a transcription service, but I just haven’t had the chance to do it myself in I don’t even know how many weeks now. I’ll get there. Unfortunately not in time to plug Gozu‘s release shows.

Speaking of things I haven’t had time for, if you’ve sent me an email in, say, the last three to four weeks and not heard back, I’ll soon be rectifying that. Give me a couple more days. The Patient Mrs. is out of town early next week and while I want/need to catch up on a few email interviews as well going out — even though I think of the last four I sent out I only got one back — answering email is definitely also on my agenda. I’m not blowing anyone off, there’s just only so many hours in the day (it’s after midnight as I write this, for example, so it’s actually tomorrow even as I’m posting for today) and I need to spend as much of it as possible writing in order not to completely lose my shit. I’m doing my best.

Thanks too for your patience on reviews. Next week, Lamp of the Universe, Sgt. Sunshine and hopefully Before the Eyewall. Also stay tuned for a Kings Destroy track premiere on Tuesday, more info on The Eye of the Stoned Goat 3 and as ever, a ton of other stuff I don’t even know about yet. It’ll be a good time, I promise.

As always, I wish you a great and safe weekend, wherever you might be or whatever you’ve got going on. I’ll be checking in on the forum, as I hope you will, and we’ll pick back up Monday with more riffly plod and all the rest of it. Until then, here’s to Jeff Hanneman.