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After an epic absence, The Foundry reopens!
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Zakk
Wylde
Concrete
Sledge
A
History of Zakk Wylde
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Archive
June 19, 2006
Timed
to coincide with their recent appearance on the VH-1 Rock
Honors, Def Leppard delivers a new set chock full of familiar
tunes. Yeah! is the band's tribute to some of their
favorite songs, focusing on the glam and arena tracks that
helped define their early pop-metal identity. The liner
notes explain it all, packed with memories from each member
of the band and explanations of how each song was chosen
and why it was important. This whole process results in
a fun time.
Among
the best covers herein would be the opening track, T-Rex's
"20th Century Boy". The shiny strut well suits
the band, and they drop every crunching riff and background
harmony with gusto. Appropriately, the final track is another
stand-out moment: "Stay With Me". It's kind of
funny in a way; while Rod Stewart has rushed to embrace
the great oldies, he finds his own work being used in homage
as well. Of all the collected tunes, these two remakes convey
the best of what Def Leppard brings to the material; that
would sharp musicianship and a fan's love of the originals.
This
set is truly made for long-time DefLep fans that may have
never had much exposure to the original tunes. If they already
know the Nerves and such, there's a comfort level for aging
rock fans in hearing the same songs over and over, so it
probably doesn't bother them that the Leppard is playing
someone else's easily recognizable piece. For my part, I
would have liked to have seen a completely new record full
of stadium-worthy anthems. With emo bands essentially co-opting
the high drama that metal used to have (hell, My Chemical
Romance even name-checks Iron Maiden as an influence), it
would have been interesting to see DL strike with a new
batch of larger than life material. As it is, there's nothing
wrong with the disc. It is as you might expect: a nostalgic
good time.
 Back
to current reviews
May 20, 2006
If you
ever want to evoke the image of raw animal power in concentrated
metal form, all you need to do is say the word "Pantera".
The Cowboys from Hell were explosive, corrosive, and far
beyond the typical conception of what that particular genre
could be. It helped that the huge sound was soaked in Texas-flavored
attitude; that assemblage of musicians remains quite unlike
anything else on the planet. And now, fans get to hear what
the instrumental backbone of that storied group (that is,
Dimebag Darrell, Vinnie Paul, and Rex Brown, gathered officially
as Cowboys from Hell) would have sounded like with that
most authentic of country voices, David Allan Coe, up front.
The
result is the incredibly appropriately named Rebel Meets
Rebel. It's not a genre-bender; it's a genre-mutilator.
The talents involved manage to take everything that is great
and glorious about their respective fields and smash it
together with hellish intensity. Coe has always been a singular
voice in country; whereas many C&W vocalists trade on
maudlin wallowing or cartoonish despair, Coe remains able
to inject fundamental anger into his tunes. That's extremely
important, and the simple aggression behind his pronouncements
makes the raging swirl of music below him sound all the
more anthemic.
Of course,
that's not say that the tracks are filled with empty thrash
on the instrumental side. There's an undeniable feeling
of boogie to this album that recalls, in all seriousness,
the work of Hank Williams Jr. or ZZ Top (perhaps ZZ Top
playing while chased by rabid wolverines, but ZZ Top nonetheless).
The Cowboys acquit themselves masterfully, expanding their
range while remaining defiantly planted in metal. Everything
you'd expect, particularly the late Dimebag Darrell's potent
riffing, is in full abundance.
First
track "Nothin' to Lose" is an early, easy favorite.
All the proper elements are in play, and Coe shines. "I've
lived it up/now I'm livin' it down" couldn't be a more
appropriate line for the disc opener. It bears mention that
for all the iconoclastic impulses of their respective natures,
Coe and the gang are obviously students of the historical
heft of their genres. They all bring a deep sense of purpose
to the crafting of the disc, even if they're having a great
time while doing it.
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Queensryche
- Operation: Mindcrime II
Review
by: Troy
Brownfield
Label: Rhino
Where to buy: Amazon.com
|
April 19, 2006
You
may have heard the phrase "You can't go home again."
Apparently, Queensryche haven't. It would also seem that
they have no knowledge of the axiom that sequels suck. Operation:
Mindcrime II finds the band returning to the scene of
their concept masterpiece, and remarkably, delivering. Time
will tell whether or not this follow-up becomes as similarly
revered as The Godfather II, but it's safe to say
that the band comes closer to recapturing the spirt of the
original than anyone might have ever expected.
If your
major exposure to the seminal Seattle act came from radio
hit "Silent Lucidity" and the rest of the Empire
album, that's okay; that disc remains a stunning set backed
with amazing singles. The band's huge artistic breakthrough
actually came with the previous set, the original Operation:
Mindcrime. A group of songs that detailed a narrative
structure regarding Dr. X, his brainwashed assassin Nikki,
and Sister Mary, a young hooker who becomes a nun in a musical
personification of the virgin/whore dichotomy. It was a
particularly arresting record, filled with strong hooks,
heavy music, insightful lyrics, and a genuinely affecting
standalone track in "Eyes of a Stranger". Obviously,
that's a tall order to live up to in terms of a follow-up.
Amazingly,
Queensryche as a band sounds just as vital as they did in
1988. At a time when his contemporaries have resorted to
more limited ranges or "studio sweetness", lead
singer Geoff Tate stuns. His mutliple-octaves firmly intact,
he attacks his complex lyrics with power and conviction.
The same can be said of the rest of the band; every ounce
of guitar, bass and drums is a fusilade of unadulterated
Rock Power. In relating the tale of Nikki, released from
prison 20 years later and consumed with a lust for revenge,
Queensryche manages to comment on today's political climate
as well as the previously established themes of domination
and redemption.
Among
the individual high points are "I'm American",
which is a study in contrast and irony, and "The Chase"
which casts Ronnie James Dio as Dr. X versus Tate's Nikki.
That one's a gripping vocal duel between two of the classic
howls in heavy music. Pamela Moor also reprises her turn
as Sister Mary, lending another nice layer to the proceedings.
Frankly,
I'm shocked. Queensryche is that rare veteran band that
hasn't lost their vigor. Even more impressive is the plan
to tour on BOTH albums, playing Mindcrime I & II
in their entirety as part of a full stage show with actors
essaying the characters. Whereas many of the bands that
they rose to stardom alongside have retreated to state fairs
and shed tours, Queensryche builds on its already prodigous
reputation by remembering what many others have forgotten:
ambition can often be its own reward. In this case, ambition's
reward is another set of winning music.
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The
Best of Poison: 20 Years of Rock
Review
by: Troy
Brownfield
Label: Capitol/EMI
Where to buy: Amazon.com
|
April 18, 2006
When
I hear the opening of “Talk Dirty to Me”, I can't help but
smile. Poison remains one of the great unrepentant party
bands of all time. Whether you embraced or disdained their
glam posture, you have to admit that they knew their way
around an anthem. This exuberant first track, fittingly
the band's first single, announced them as a new power player
in the then-dominant genre of popular metal.
What
follows is a whirlwind tour through a variety of up-tempo
rockers and heartfelt ballads that still engender an amazing
amount of rotation on classic rock, retro, and mixed format
stations. Some may have forgotten that Poison was extremely
productive and managed to land quite a large number of songs
on both radio and MTV. In fact, some of the more familiar
tracks (“Every Rose . . .”, “Something to Believe In”, “Nothing
But a Good Time”) are played so often on radio in my area
that the changeover to lesser-heard tunes like “Fallen Angel”
and “Cry Tough” comes with a pleasant jolt of delayed recognition.
The
chief weapon in the Poison arsenal remains C.C. DeVille,
the classically trained guitarist with a penchant for elaborately
designed guitars, reality TV appearances, and general possible
insanity. The guy is a human riff machine, and his signature
tones power the rockers. Of course, that's not to say that
Bret Michaels doesn't have an instantly recognizable set
of pipes; his wink-and-nod delivery always seemed to say,
“Yeah, I'm wearing more make-up than your girl, but I'll
probably wind up banging her after the show, too.” Mssrs.
Dall and Rocket hold down the rhythm in steady fashion,
particularly on chestnuts like the bombastic “Unskinny Bop”.
Though
the disc may largely preach most directly to those who already
follow, it's an unquestionably incandescent party record.
For me, it instantly recalls a by-gone era when I was in
my young teens and trying to master the art of one-handed
unhooking. Somehow, I think that would make the band quite
proud.
Inhale
420 - The Stoner Rock Compilation
Review
by: Randall
Clark
|
Nov. 12, 2000
This
is a pretty decent compilation featuring many bands you will
most likely be unfamiliar with. Aimed towards those who know
where to stash their grass, this disc provides a nice blend
of music that will take you riding through your high.
The first track is probably the most unusual. The reason why
is simple: you have the song "Dream Weaver" being performed
by one of metal's crunchiest groups, Crowbar. To hear Kirk
Windstein's voice take on that smooth melody line of Gary
Wright might scare you at first. Surprisingly, it seems to
hold its own after a few times hearing it. This was a bit
scary at first, to hear the power-chord crunching of Crowbar
assault this synth-tune, but they end up handling it with
dignity.
"Alohawaii," by Natas, mixes the slide-guitar sounds of Duane
Allman with a hungry backbone of Black Sabbath. I know, this
is hard to believe, but it's true. What you have here is something
rare, and by my own mind purely unheard of. But it works.
More than half the song is instrumental, and by the time the
lyrics kick in you're already caught in the dreamscape setup
beforehand.
Sixty Watt Shaman appear on this compilation, and it satisfies
me greatly. These guys have a unique sound drawing on everything
from grunge to metal to southern rock. The groove here at
midpoint is nasty, and it'll get you going in no time. "Southern
Gentleman" is a nice song to get your ass in gear.
There's a cover of AC/DC's "Whole Lotta Rosie" here, by a
band called Murder 1. The song is nearly exact in its performance,
and the singer has a voice similar to Bon Scott, and overall
is pretty entertaining. For you Mother Love Bone fans, the
band Gunfighter follows their footsteps. "Anti-Hero" is a
bit more noisy than MLB, but it still carries itself pretty
well.
Other songs follow, some of them pretty good, others OK, and
I won't lie to you, some aren't that great. The production
on the disc isn't great, either, and this detracts from the
overall quality of the disc. Some tracks, though good music,
seem as though they came straight out of the garage with little,
or no, polishing. Still, the disc works for its intended purpose.
Classic!
Oct. 12, 2000
By
the late 1980s, metal was all the rage on MTV and rock radio.
Bands like Judas Priest had served as sacrificial openers
of the way in the early part of the Reagan Decade. 1985 began
the true ascendancy of Motley Crue, and behind them followed
acts like Bon Jovi, Poison and more. However, one band that
always stood out from the crowd due to their complex musical
stylings, reckless abandon, and general bad attitudes was
Guns 'N' Roses.
Combining equal love for glam, metal, thrash, punk, Elton
John, the New York Dolls, Led Zeppelin and half-a-million
more influences, the Gunners stomped onto the scene and demanded
your attention. Never has their ferocity been unleashed in
such full measure as on the multi-platinum Appetite for Destruction.
A disc of towering popularity, it nonetheless holds up almost
14(!) years later and can still make bands like Creed rightfully
sound like a bunch of pussies.
Any music fan knows that the band was fronted by Axl Rose.
Axl, whose on and off-stage antics have overshadowed his musical
legacy in recent years, became the preeminent rock vocalist
of the time on this album. Weaving back and forth on stage
and screen and veering vocally from sinister mumblings to
that legendary out-of-control screech, Axl was impossible
to ignore. It was also hard to ignore his words; his dark
tales of drug abuse, love gone wrong and paranoia seemed miles
ahead of the girls-n-party anthems of the day. Equally impressive
was his songwriting partner and lead guitarist Slash. Forever
emblazoned across rock-n-roll history for his mass of hair,
top hat and low-slung guitar, he personified relaxed cool
while ripping furious chunks of riffage from his instrument.
That's not to decry to contributions of Izzy Stradlin' and
Duff on rhythm and bass. Izzy, a fine songwriter in his own
right, and Duff provided a backbone for the band along with
their first drummer Steve Adler. Somehow, these disparate
personalities fused into 12 explosive tracks on Appetite.
While everyone and their mothers know Sweet Child O'Mine,
Welcome to the Jungle, and Paradise City, I'd like to note
a couple of often missed gems.
Mr. Brownstone is probably the "cult" favorite of the disc.
One of the most overt songs about heroin ever written, it
still manages to simultaneously rock out and deliver a message.
I can't think of a single rock fan that doesn't both a) know
the lyrics to this one and b) know when to pause when Axl
sings "worries a waste of my . . . time." Track number 8 brings
us Think About You, an uptempo love song that seems positively
optimistic among the brutality of some of the other numbers.
The drive of the song and relatively basic construction hearken
back to the punk roots of the band.
My sentimental favorite track has got to be the album ender,
Rocket Queen. Virtually epic in scope with two completely
different movements for God's sake, it's another of Axl's
twisted tales of sordid love. Frankly, I'd kill to hear this
song covered by the likes of Type O Negative or The Sisters
of Mercy; I'm sure they could do amazing things with it.
Of course, don't think that I'm discounting the rest of the
disc; there's It's So Easy, Nighttrain, Out Ta Get Me, My
Michelle, You're Crazy and Anything Goes. While not every
song hits the heights of the first six I covered, there are
moments that stand way beyond what other bands were doing
(or capable of) at the time. Appetite for Destruction proved
that bands could succeed built on intelligent lyrics, fierce
determination and an abject unwillingness to do exactly what
they were told. This is an essential CD to own for its place
in music history and the fact that it still, after all these
years, rocks.
New Tattoo
Sept. 19, 2000
The
Crue have been plagued by problems over the years. I won't
go into them all, but will point out the line-up problem.
First, Vince Neil left, or was fired depending on what you
read/heard, to be replaced by John Corabi, who now is a member
of Union. That didn't sit too well for the fans, which caused
sales to slump. The whole grunge thing didn't help, either.
Then, in a controversial act, Corabi was fired, and Neil came
back. What resulted was Generation Swine, a disc with a flavor
for experimenting. The disc wasn't too bad, but not your standard
Crue fare. A greatest hits disc followed that, and then a
live disc. After that, and out of nowhere, Tommy Lee left
the band to pursue his own ventures in the form of Methods
of Mayhem. Many were skeptical. Randy Castillo, former drummer
for Ozzy, came in for a replacement. What resulted was New
Tattoo. This disc is what Motley Crue is about. It returns
to that sleaziness of old, while bringing in a new vitality
of the rejuvenated band. This new disc comes off as a dirtier,
raw, Dr. Feelgood. It carries the sleaze of Girls, Girls,
Girls, as well.
The first single from the album, "Hell on High Heels," has
a hint of that old spark Crue used to carry. While not the
greatest off the album, it certainly is Crue. It carries a
guitar rhythm that is somewhat bland, but it's one that you
can get past once the full song gets going. "Treat Me Like
a Dog" is better. Though, the lyrics are a bit plain, the
melody is great. This, in my mind, should kick the disc off.
The solo here is fun. "New Tattoo" is the big surprise. It's
a ballad. Not exactly what the title suggests, but none-the-less,
it's a good ballad. True, it carries those lyrics that are
somewhat cliché in metal, but the melody is what it's all
about. Mick Mars really shines on this tune, carrying a tone
and guitar melody that smiles of Jeff Beck. It comes across
great. Neil is in top form here with the vocals, as well.
The Crue get tough on "Punched in the Teeth by Love." Although
it follows that formula of a pounding guitar and bass line
behind a vocal melody with guitar licks after every few lines
followed by a headbanging chorus, it still rocks. This one
will have you singing along with every chorus. A standout
here is "Fake." Nikki Sixx, the longtime writer of most of
the Crue catalog, unleashes his angst on all those musicians
that assault bands such as the Crue as not being a "real"
band. Well, this shoves everything back at those who point
fingers as hypocrites. It's a great track, and it's vital
Crue.
While not the best in their line of work, New Tattoo
is the closest thing to real Crue that's been around in a
long time. Castillo pulls off the drums well, fitting in perfectly.
Motley Crue returns with what will certainly be a new, healthy
return to the way Crue is supposed to be: loud, obnoxious,
and sleazy.
RTS
Sept. 19, 2000
Pantera
finally unleashes a new disc. It's been about four years since
the cowboys from hell gave us some studio material. While
I'm more of a fan of pre-Southern Trendkill Pantera, this
disc kicks some butt. With The Great Southern Trendkill, front
man Philip Anselmo began stretching his vocals into the realm
of full-blown screaming. I must admit, that turned me off
a bit. With this new outing, the boys find a nice medium between
Vulgar Display of Power and The Great Southern Trendkill.
The opening track, "Hellbound," takes off at lightning speed.
While the chorus displays Anselmo screaming, it's appropriate.
The guitars are pounding, and the groove is one of power that
only these boys can provide. "Goddamn Electric" is the first
single, and there's a reason. This is the Pantera of old.
Dimebag is mixing the guitar's hellish grooves up, throwing
in some crunch. Anselmo brings about a melody that will have
you telling anybody why their goddamn stereos aren't loud
enough. On "Yesterday Don't Mean Shit," the boys mix up the
speed, shifting the tempo from groove to groove. To say Dimebag
is a good guitarist, a damningly talented guitarist, is the
truth, but don't forget Rex and Vinnie, the boys keeping his
beat. All shine on this. Dimebag's solo is an onslaught, and
Anselmo gives you reason to not brood on the past.
On "Revolution is My Name," the boys bring in a bit of Black
Sabbath to their amplifiers. It's got a catchy beat, with
a smoking guitar churning out the hook. The solo here kills,
along with that fill-induced talent of Dimebag throughout.
The vocals bring in that medium spoken of earlier, with the
screaming mixed into melodic howling. This is just a kick
ass, all around, good track, ready to take you to the steps
of D.C., not to mention giving Rage Against the Machine (a
kick ass band in their own) a run for their style of songs.
Track 7, "We'll Grind That Axe for a Long Time," was written
for those problems dealing with friends or family that just
don't change. Kick their ass to this soundtrack, grab a beer,
and relax. The next track will make you feel good after kicking
some ass, or can serve as that warm-up needed right before
getting into the ring for an Ultimate Fighting Championship
match. "Uplift" is full on growling melody with a punching
beat.
Dimebag carries his guitar throughout, soloing in his style
of vibrato quickness with no tricks. If you're a guitar player
you've listened to him, you've learned him, and you know him.
If not, your soul is worthless in the realm of six strings,
and you should be condemned to a life of 24 hour Tiny Tim
records. This is Dimebag playing... that's all that needs
to be said. Anselmo has found that place worthy of his vengeance-fear-inducing
screams and his deep vocals carrying straight ahead melody.
He is a frightful singer, one that is full power. If you don't
recognize his talent, join the unknowingly damned from the
previous paragraph. With his bass, Rex carries his own, backing
up Dimebag, and adding depth to Vinnie Paul's drums. The brutal
pounding here won't let your legs sit still. These boys are
the heart of the band, adding the time and backdrop to the
others. If you don't acknowledge this... then you're just
plain all messed-up and need to join the ignorant from the
previous two paragraphs.
Once again, those boys from Pantera have returned, and their
ready to kick your ass.
Sonic Brew
Sept. 19, 2000
Black
Label Society is the bone-gnashing offspring of Zakk Wylde.
No stranger to metal, Wylde learned his trade under the godfather
of metal, Ozzy Osbourne, playing guitar for nearly a decade
under him. This, however, is heavier than anything he has
done before.
This album lists 15 tracks, and it takes off from the minute
it begins spinning. The album is laced with fuzzy bass, crunching
guitars, and howling vocals. The album is steeped in what
we all see in the emotional content of everyday life.
Leading Sonic Brew off is "Bored to Tears." The track, not
to mention the entire album, pulses with bass and guitar,
a definite thumper that will knock you on your ass if you're
not careful of the volume. The bass here would make Cliff
Burton proud. The thumping turns into a guitar line and vocal
melody that's so catchy it's burned into your brain. The mid-section
before the chorus is poundingly strong, adding a strong attack
to an already powerful tune. This song, with it's thumping
and tired-of-bullshit attitude makes me want to just kick
ass. If you don't like your job, or your boss, try not to
listen to this during work because you'll be ready to destroy
all who piss you off. "The Rose Petalled Garden," and "World
of Trouble" (one of my personal favorites) carry such crunchy
grooves that resisting them are nearly futile. "Mother Mary,"
and "Low Down" shred quickly. Particularly, "The Beginning...
at Last" carries a ripping rhythm worthy of high velocity
octane. "Beneath the Tree" has a solid delivery, slowly bringing
the guitars up. The chorus on this one kicks some serious
ass.
Taking it down a notch is "Spoke in the Wheel," a ballad backed
solely by acoustic guitar, and Wylde's vocals. The song succeeds
in what many could say is a genre worn thin by those hairspray
days of metal. The reason for that are Wylde's vocals. His
voice is easily able to reach moods of different emotions,
and in this track, his voice is of plain despair.
The last track is a retooling of "No More Tears," a signature
Ozzy song Wylde co-wrote. But this version is all Zakk. Where
the song had solely bass and guitar, this one is covered fully
by chunky guitar. Wylde howls at the breakdown before the
chorus, turning it into a frightening experience. Where Ozzy's
version was sly in an evil way, Wylde's is pure full on; a
strangling brutality. The solo is much the same, only more
raw and full of power. This has become a favorite of many
Society Dwelling fans. Wylde's soloing shines throughout,
particularly on "The Rose Petalled Garden", "Mother Mary",
"Low Down", the furious acoustic instrumental "T.A.Z.", "Lost
My Better Half", a song with that signature harmonic howl
of Wylde's near the end of the solo, "The Beginning... at
Last," with a quick ascending slaughter, and, of course, "No
More Tears." If you're wanting metal, Black Label Society
delivers. Period.
Stronger Than Death
Sept. 19, 2000
Returning
to the studio, Zakk Wylde and Black Label Society emerge once
again to demonstrate how metal should be done. In doing that,
Wylde has produced an even heavier album. All without turning
the vocals into screams, the guitars into pure power chords
(not that there's anything wrong with that), and without a
loss of melody. The guitars are a bit more even with the power
of the bass on this disc, adding to the overall power.
Opening the disc is "All For You," a song quick in pace with
a killer solo. The lyrics here could be used in a ballad,
but Wylde's music suggests the power of loyalty. What comes
next is "Phoney Smiles & Fake Hellos." This is another one
of those tunes that bears groove. This deals with those people
who you know are all bullshit. The ones you can't trust, the
ones you see coming a mile away. Listen to this, and you're
libel to smash their teeth in. "13 Years of Grief" continues
the attack, brandishing another worthy groove. I cannot suggest
through words how intensive the rhythm is in this song. Live,
this is one of the best performed. Wylde wrote this one about
those punk kids you see on shows like Maury or Montel, or
any other show bearing a person's first name. It makes a great
soundtrack. Try it. The solo here is fantastic. Wylde puts
a backdrop lick to it that could be considered a solo in itself.
Coming up next is the first of two ballads. This one is a
bit darker than the single ballad on the previous disc (Sonic
Brew). The picking guitar in the background is broody.
With a drumbeat pacing in the background, Wylde again proves
he knows how to put out mood. The solo is astounding, pulling
in a bit of shred. "Superterrorizer" carries the rhythm of
a Rottweiler. At this rate, Wylde should be crowned king of
the metal groove. His vocals howl during the verses, displaying
a growling strength. The solo takes off slowly with a bit
of wah, but then it soars into those shredding notes Wylde
is a master of. This just smacks of beer and bruises. "Counterfeit
God" is probably the closest thing he has written to an Ozzy
song in some time. The chanting of a radio religion show starts
the tune off. The vocals take an up and down fashion, with
the chorus proclaiming "Worship Me" in that howl that's all
Zakk. The guitars take a chopping line, but it in no way diminishes
the song. The solo is one of Zakk's favorites (see interview),
and rightly so. It takes some twists and turns. In "Just Killing
Time," Wylde brings out the piano, and contemplates mortality
in this second ballad of the disc. His lyrics sum it all up,
and damn, if you can't attach yourself to any of this man's
ballads then you're just plain without emotion! The solo here
is one of my favorites. It takes a low growl in the beginning,
pulling up to a single sustained note that delves into more
notes, until one note is simply sustained and bent up and
down like a wail, eventually falling into a wah-ing pit of
notes. Beautiful. The title track hits next, bringing the
emotion back to powerful fury. "Stronger Than Death" is solid
strength and all about kicking ass. A welcomed surprise here
for professional baseball fans: Mike Piazza is credited on
this song. For what he does, you'll have to go get the disc,
but I can tell you it's an integral part of the tune. This
song came to chew bubble gum and kick ass, and it's all out
of bubble gum.
This album continues the metal fueled brutality (or alcohol
fueled brutality according to the man) that begun with the
previous disc. Again, if you want metal, BLS will not let
you down. This is the best to date. If all things go according
to plan, there could be a live disc soon (see interview).
Black
Label Society - 08.16.00
Maximum
Rock Tour - Fall 2000
Concrete
Sledge - Fall 2000
Wombat
Festival 2000
>
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