"They're not as evil as I thought they were," he commented.
That's an interesting comment that might reflect as much on metal fans jaded by bands like Slayer who are not afraid of being extremely politically uncorrect. These days, it takes a lot to shock and awe a metal fan.
What is to be made of this 25-year-old thrash metal band which spews hatred of all things religious and inspires its black-clad fans into mosh pit frenzies that are not all that different from the kind of gyrations one might expect to see at a Christian tent revival? Is it a slick, cynical commercial enterprise that uses devil worship, Nazi symbols and loud ear-shattering guitar, drum and bass riffs to play to its fan base? Or do group members Thomas Araya, Kerry King, Jeff Hanneman and Paul Bostaph really believe what they say and promote? The group, ranked with Megadeath, Metallica and Anthrax as the greatest of the 80s' big hair thrash bands, certainly doesn't shy away from controversy and definitely would be offensive to many religious beliefs.
Starting the concert with a chorus informing its adoring, gyrating and chanting fans that "God hates us all" and later singing from their latest album Christ Illusion that "religion is hate, religion is fear, religion is war, religion is rape,
relgion's obscene, religion's a whore", the group left little doubt where it stands on the subject of God.
Of course, actually hearing any of the words Araya screams into a mike during a concert would be a challenge. While fans could be seen shouting along, it is possible to only a actually discern a word or two in the din of pounding guitars and drums with bass loud enough to shake the rafters.
In some ways, that's a pity because, in Christ Illusion, Slayer has some interesting and controversial things to say about not only religion but about the post traumatic stress syndrome suffered by soldiers returning from Iraq and the motivations behind the 9-11 terrorist attacks.
If one of the purposes of rock music is to challenge the established order and make those willing to listen think just a bit, then Slayer remains relevant.
Of course, I doubt that most of the nearly 3,000 fans who came to see Slayer and opening act Unearth pondered such philosophical musings. Most of this male-dominated crowd came to rid themselves of testosterone and beer-powered energy in the mosh pit, enjoy continued shouting of variations of the f-word and repated chantings of the band's name.
Most seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience.
Slayer can and does put on a 90-minute show packed with hits, flashing lights, pounding guitar licks, slick choreography and plenty of smoke.
From a distant part of the cavernous Saltair, Slayer lead vocalist and bass player Araya resembles a deranged Charles Manson, a look that may or may not be accidental considering the numerous devil references in the band's album artwork and lyrics.
The pounding guitar and bass licks and two-bass drum throbbing work of Bostaph coupled with lighting effects designed to enhance the madness of a venue that sells all general admission tickets and offers no one a place to sit gave fans something to shout about.
And shout they did. Considering the body surfing, violent moshing and number of coats, hats and assorted plastic bottles flying around in the air, it's a good bet that many a Slayer fan woke up a bit on the sore side Wednesday morning.
Being cynical about Slayer's intentions to stir controversy aside, one could only leave Saltair Tuesday night marveling at both the energy displayed both on stage and inside the arena as fans and band members alike seemed to let off more than a little anger.


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