I had been counting down the days to this event since I bought the tickets in March.
There was a bloke who ran a stall on Maidenhead Market – known only as Punky, despite his advanced age and long, straggly hair – who, despite being quite obviously dodgy as fuck, was a
George Orwell got a lot of things right about 1984 in his book of the same name; but what he failed to predict was that the year would be absolutely titanic for ‘our kind of music’.
While I was waiting for Slayer founding guitarist Kerry King to arrive at a conference room tucked away in a stately five-star hotel in Melbourne, Australia, a por