By Max Dropout
On the eve christening their 1997 Jugulator support tour, anticipation crushed expectation, and it seemed that scores of loyal Priest fans were embracing the new lead singer Ripper Owens with brain-damaged howls, and an uncanny enthusiasm that you’d figure most in their late thirties would have left behind in their teen years with their black denim jackets. The spirit of priest was seemingly alive and well, and even the departure of founding frontman Rob Halford could not douse the passions of their fiery followers. I recall even seeing foot reports, from within the sweaty, beer-soaked mob of metal fury, where commendations of Ripper’s power were sung … but the best endorsement of them all came from one group of rattling skulls, as the drunken, snaggletoothed leader mullet shouted into the glaring lights of the camera with an intonation of confusion, “… And best of all, he ain’t no homo!” Continue reading
By Kidwell King
The year is 1993. In Memphis, Tennessee, a band named P.P. and the Naildrivers (What else could the P.P. stand for, but for everyone’s favorite scapegoat, Pontius Pilate?) are playing their debut show. Before the end of the gig, they’ve changed their names not once, but twice. First, to the Gentlemen of Leisure. Right before the last song was played, they announced that they would go by the name we all know and love – the Oblivians.
Now, I’m not gonna waste your time with some bullshit biography on those guys. If you don’t know now, you best do your homework. What’s important is that after they released their last album on Crypt Records Play 9 Songs with Mr. Quintron, the band split up and the three Oblivian brothers went their separate ways. Eric stuck with Goner Records, and operates the shop and label out of Memphis. Jack and Greg briefly reconvened the Compulsive Gamblers, but then split up again. Continue reading