Devil’s Music - Chapter 107: Return to PANTERA

The Waiting Room an Hour Before the Performance

Vinnie and Rex sat in the waiting room, engrossed in their phones, brows furrowed in concentration.

<Article Search: PANTERA Tour>

In December 2017, amidst the rugged voices of British rock, the once globally renowned band PANTERA was set to make a comeback in the United Kingdom. PANTERA, a glam metal (or groove metal) band, rose to fame with their 1990 hit “Cowboys from Hell.” In stark contrast to the intellectual style of contemporaries like Metallica or Megadeth, PANTERA, rooted in the wild essence of Texas, presented a dangerous, beastly, and viscous sound. They stood out as one of the top three metal groups globally, alongside the frequently mentioned Metallica and Megadeth.

Different from the more cerebral Metallica or Megadeth, PANTERA, with their Texan danger, beastly demeanor, and sticky sound, could be considered a band with a distinct style. They shared a vibe akin to the Brazilian thrash band Sepultura, active during the same period, and achieved worldwide popularity.

However, the band’s trajectory took a tragic turn on December 8, 2004, when a fanatic named Nathan Gale stormed the stage at the Ohio Stadium in the United States, fatally shooting guitarist and band leader ‘Dimebag Darrell.’ Even before this incident, the band had already disbanded due to discord fueled by unruly behavior, driven by alcohol and drugs from vocalist Phil Anselmo.

Their live performance, without Dimebag Darrell, encapsulated in my articles “100 Timeless Masterpieces of History” and “20 Worst Albums that Should Never Have Been Released,” immortalizes the band’s “hidden life and shameful death.” Yet, without Dimebag Darrell, PANTERA is no longer PANTERA. They, in my opinion, deserve the ‘rotten tomato’ I throw at them for their ‘worst performance that should never have been seen.’

<November 30, 2017, Music Critic Norman Lebrehit.>

Vinnie tossed his smartphone aside, irritation evident in his voice.

“A critic who writes trash like this is still called a critic! Is this even an article?”

Rex nervously shook his head.

“If someone hasn’t seen our live performance, they might say that kind of thing. It’s based on facts, you know. Like the story about Phil, too.”

Vinnie glared fiercely and retorted.

“What did you say? So, it’s okay to get hit by those rotten tomatoes that guy throws? Shouldn’t you write the article after watching the live performance? Phil does the same, even though it happened a few years ago, people are still blaming him? He’s not like that now!”

Rex snapped his fingers and said nonchalantly.

“Don’t get worked up, Vinnie. I don’t mean that. I just mean that it would be more satisfying to crush the noses of those who come with such thoughts. Let’s see if they can write the same article after watching the live performance.”

With a sly look, Vinnie approached the now calmed Rex.

“No, Rex, why do you seem intellectual for once?”

Rex shrugged and said while clenching his fist.

“I’m naturally a bit intellectual. Even the girls who follow me like my philosophical mindset.”

Vinnie smirked and slapped Rex on the forehead.

“Did you know that you failed the philosophy exam in high school?”

Rex, struck by the hefty blow from the massive Vinnie, held his forehead and fell backward.

“Oof! You ignorant pig!”

At that moment, Phil entered the dressing room, sighing at the sight of the two bickering.

“Hey, you two. How much time is left until the performance, and you’re fighting again?”

Rex, holding his forehead unjustly, said.

“That ignorant pig hits me if he’s bored! You saw it too!”

Vinnie, with a drumstick in hand, added.

“He says he’ll hit me with rotten tomatoes if he’s bored! Didn’t you see that?”

Phil looked at the two of them and shook his head.

“Did you read the article? Do you know how much the UK media is criticizing us right now?”

Vinnie’s playful demeanor solidified. Seeing Vinnie checking the smartphone, Phil asked.

“Did you read the article?”

Phil, sitting on the sofa and massaging his temples, replied.

“Yeah, I did. Phew.”

Vinnie and Rex, noticing Phil’s mood, sat down on the sofa, looking serious. Phil, after massaging his temples as if he had a headache, looked up and spoke.

“That so-called critic, is he coming today?”

Vinnie picked up the smartphone he had thrown earlier and said.

“He mentioned in the article that he’ll come to the live performance and bring rotten tomatoes. Well, he probably won’t actually bring them.”

Phil, leaning back on the sofa, sighed.

“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve been stressed because of some critic’s nonsense. Where’s Kay?”

Rex, glancing at Phil, asked.

“She went out with Rin earlier.”

Phil raised an eyebrow and said.

“Where? There’s not much time left until the performance.”

Vinnie, bouncing the drumstick, said.

“She said she’s going for a stage check. Checking the sound on the guitar side. She’ll be back soon.”

Just then, Gun entered the room. Phil looked at Gun and said.

“Kay, why are you doing the stage check? Shouldn’t the staff do that?”

Gun smiled and replied.

“One must endure after reading the articles, hehe.”

Vinnie raised his head and asked.

“Article? Did you read that too? The one written by the critic?”

Gun nodded, sat on the sofa, and replied.

“Yeah, I saw it. Phew.”

“Open your eyes properly and see, I’ve reserved the seat right in the center of the audience for that person.”

Rex exclaimed, eyes widening.

“The center? Why?”

Geon, placing his folded hands on his stomach, inquired.

“Just wanted to see if I can write the same article even after seeing it properly. Also, I want to check the reactions during the live performance.”

Phil nodded approvingly.

“Alright, well done. So, he writes a few lines and gets a VIP seat. Is this all planned?”

Vinnie chuckled, making a comment.

“Hahaha, if this is planned, then he’s a genius.”

Soon, on the monitor installed in the waiting room, the audience began to enter and take their seats. Even in distant England, there were die-hard fans of PANTERA, each looking eccentric, resembling gypsies, streaming in. Amidst such fans, a man in a neat suit, hair neatly combed, holding his ticket, was seen finding his seat. After the middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a gray suit, took his seat, Rex pointed at the screen, shaking his finger.

“That guy! Could it be him! That Norman critic guy!”

Vinnie murmured while looking at the screen.

“He looks like an intellectual, probably the type who criticizes art, finding flaws rather than appreciating it as it is.”

Geon commented after briefly eyeing the seat where Norman sat.

“Well, let’s get ready. In the UK performance, Daryl’s video comes first, so we can go out while the video is playing.”

As Geon and his team stood behind the stage, a live video of PANTERA’s past performance started playing on the large screen. Unanticipatedly, fans in the audience became silent, focusing on the old footage. Members took their positions on the dark stage below the large screen.

After a while, when the live video stopped and the lights came on the stage, the audience cheered.

“Whoooa~~~~~ PANTERA! PANTERA!”

Phil, smiling, encouraged the audience’s response, and while holding the microphone, he spoke.

“We’re happy to be in the UK. Today, for our first stage, we’re going to try a song from a UK band, not our own.”

Phil glanced at Norman while speaking, and noticing that, Vinnie laughed, made a fist, and leaned back with a mocking expression. Phil gestured to Geon inwardly, who approached the vocal position in a hakama (traditional Japanese clothing) and checked the microphone mounted on the stand before speaking.

“The first song we’ll play is Bush’s ‘Swallowed.'”

As Geon took the vocal position instead of Phil, the audience reacted with surprise.

“Why is it not Phil? Why the guitarist?”

“Woooh~~ We want to hear Phil’s songs!”

“Your music is better! Don’t embarrass yourselves by singing songs from British bands just because you can’t sing well! Stick to your own songs!”

Geon, noticing Norman sitting in the center of the audience, his fist clenched, openly mocking, addressed the audience.

“Personally, I think it’s nonsense when some American critics, lacking vocal skills, claim that Bush’s music is a derivative of Nirvana. Today, I want to convey to those critics watching from afar in the United States, as well as the fans here in the UK, that their music has its own unique characteristics and depth.”

As the audience praised the British rock bands, Norman, as if challenging, leaned further back on the couch, crossing his legs. Geon turned towards the audience and continued.

“Music is about listening and enjoying. I believe there’s at least one fan who understands that it’s about listening with the heart, not just the head.”

After finishing his words, Geon glanced at Vinnie, who responded by crossing drumsticks and setting the rhythm. After four beats, Geon lowered the guitar and simultaneously began to sing.

“Warm sun feed me up, I’m leery loaded up.”

Some fans, engaged in quiet conversations, turned their heads to focus on Geon. A few even lifted off their seats, adopting awkward postures while watching him. Norman, who had been comfortably mocking, lost his smile.

“Loathing for a change, and I slip, some boil away.”

Norman, expecting an easy victory, sat up, surprised. Rex and Vinnie joined in with bass and drums, and Geon’s vocals, with a self-reproaching tone, flowed.

“Swallowed, followed, heavy about everything but my love.”

Norman, who had been eagerly watching from the couch, sat up abruptly. The atmosphere in the Royal Festival Hall, with its 3,000 seats, grew silent. Unconsciously, Norman, now perched at the edge of the sofa, pointed his finger towards Geon and softly muttered.

“P-Pyemon’s scream?”

>

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