Pumpkin Ray blues

September the 27th offered me an opportunity I'd never really dreamed possible, something resembling a culmination of two decades of music fandom. Although I've seen plenty of great bands on the same bill, the international tour dubbed "Hellish Rock" (or "Hellishrock," as my souvenir t-shirt says) reached an unprecedented level of personal significance. Yet, in the wake of a spectacle I'd waited the majority of my life to witness in person, I'm left with troubling ambivalence. I'm still figuring it out. Let me try to explain...

Twenty years ago, I was still a radio slave, my burgeoning hunger for loud guitar music fed only by what was easily accessible. I'd graduated from the kid-friendly likes of Quiet Riot and Twisted Sister, who weren't making the Top 40 anymore, to poofy shit like Def Leppard, Mötley Crüe, '80s Aerosmith and especially Guns N' Roses, who I'd correctly identified as the best of the hair-era bands. I'd recently moved away from my best friends, one of whom, Mike, visited one day sporting longer hair, a denim jacket and a bag full of heavy metal cassettes, packed with performers that I only knew of from seeing the band names on t-shirts worn by dangerous-looking dudes at carnivals and such. At Mike's behest, I borrowed two of these albums from him. One was the classic Master of Puppets by Metallica, which he claimed was the best album in the world, and at the time he was probably right. The other was by a band whose logo had intrigued me when I'd seen it on a patch at a local store that sold metal accoutrements. The word was shaped somewhat like a bat, nine letters symmetrically divided by a mouthless jack-o'-lantern that served as the central character. I saw that Mike had one of their tapes, and I asked specifically to hear it. The album was called Keeper of the Seven Keys Part 2. The band was called Helloween.
That's them back in the day. What an ugly bunch of jokers, eh? To my young ears, these German dudes with bizarre names like Kai Hansen and Ingo Schwichtenberg were some sort of crazy European wizards or something. Keeper 2 uprooted everything I thought I loved or understood about music. It sounded nothing like the commercial heavy metal I'd heard on Z-95, nor was it the foul and evil clatter that I'd imagined from the genre's arcane horror-flick trappings. Some of it was craaaazy fast, faster than anything on the tape by Metallica, who always tempered their speed with alternating tempos. Even if they were not, Helloween just felt faster, their bright guitars (often locked into jubilant harmony during the fast-paced solos) and precise percussion rocketing the whole thing forward like a roller coaster's initial drop. Other songs were midpaced, but retained the anthemic quality that glued the speedy tunes to my brain. The singer had this voice that could trumpet like a Teutonic god at high pitches, yet glow with warm humanity at lower ones. There was this deeper guitar-y sounding thing that occasionally played different melodies, something I later learned was a "bass guitar," a crucial component of a rock band which was often mixed into inaudible pulp in the radio metal of the time (there are techno albums that sound less fake than Def Leppard's Hysteria). Over time, Keeper 2 taught me not only what a bass guitar was, but to consider things about music that had never occurred to me: how different people who write songs in the same band have unique styles, that it's possible to sing about things you don't like in a sarcastic or even constructive manner, that a song can be over 13 minutes long and hold your attention throughout, that the little part after a verse and before a chorus is called a "bridge."

The songs were all incredibly catchy, and the lyrics were fascinating to me. These dudes weren't singing about having fun or putting the moves on women like the bands I knew from the radio. They started with a song about how animals are better than humans because they follow natural instinct rather than hurting their own while striving for petty goals. After that was an admonition to open up to the world rather than drowning in oneself. Another was about how events can change in an instant, how someone can be on the proverbial top one moment but come undone the very next. There was a rather jovial one about the further adventures of Dr. Frankenstein, the doc moving ahead to cloning which eventually backfires when he's killed by a clone of himself. Then, there was a ballad-ish rocker about humanity's need to resist the abuse of governmental power, which rallies us to "put all the bombs back up their builder's ass." That was just on side one. Helloween, with their awkward English phrasing and melodies seemingly copped from old German beerhall sing-alongs, had a unique viewpoint that was all the more inviting for its corny humor, lost-in-translation eccentricity and general good-heartedness. Don't get me wrong, I loved that Metallica tape, too, with its meticulously detailed compositions, socially concerned lyrics and grim, determined delivery. For years, these were my two favorite bands.

Well, y'all know my opinion of where Metallica went once the '90s hit. Best exemplified by the ideological shift between the powerful wounded soldier's tale "One" and the amusingly jingoistic "Don't Tread on Me," the quartet went from thinking man's thrashers to beer-swilling, truck-pulling, strip-club-going rock stars who infamously preened to mainstream press that they had never been a metal band. Meanwhile, Helloween had their own shakeups, most glaringly when co-founder, songwriter, guitarist and former vocalist Kai Hansen left the group, eventually forming a new metal band with some other Germans that he called Gamma Ray. In the wake of a rift with their label, Noise Records, Helloween found themselves without North American distribution, this coupled with a two-album shift toward music that was more "pop rock" in style. It sounded different, more mellow and even slightly experimental, but the music still had that goofy, earnest personality, which is one reason I loved the early '90s Helloween albums that many, including the band themselves, cannot stomach. I also happen to appreciate musical diversity, one point on which I differ with most die-hard metalheads.

In retrospect, perhaps my disgust with Metallica and unflagging support of Helloween for all these years comes down to familiarity. As an American, during most of the 1990s I couldn't get away from the former, so every stupid song or comment they made drove the thorn in a little deeper. At the same time, I could barely find out anything about the latter, so every morsel of news or music was a revelation. Metallica's treachery was rubbed in my face everywhere I looked, while Helloween's stylistic unease was only experienced when I stumbled across a new album or single at the local import shop. The information superhighway wasn't the great series of tubes that it is today. Helloween did not tour or put out albums or videos over here, and were only covered in magazines that weren't written in English. I found out about their bona-fide return to metal with a new singer and drummer only when I bought the single on which the men first appeared.

So, I had to search and pay extra to hear their music and to be honest, I was never truly disappointed, even while adjusting to Andi Deris' voice (rougher, thinner and more limited than the great Michael Kiske) and the band's increasing indulgence of nostalgic '70s classic hard rock influences. There came a point when I actually preferred what Hansen was doing in Gamma Ray, who carried on with the Keeper-era Helloween style while remaining equally elusive to me in the States. With the help of the Internet and the sudden lack of a girlfriend, I eventually learned that other bands existed who were influenced by Helloween, and I began snapping up imports by then-obscure acts like Blind Guardian, Angra and Stratovarius while exploring other dank Eurometal realms (black, death, doom, gothic, folk, experimental, etc.). Then, in the late '90s, the unthinkable happened. Along came a Swedish band called HammerFall, who marketed the formula to the scene at large, and suddenly there were hundreds of bands playing spirited but personality-challenged "power metal." The deluge petered for out a bit, but has resurged in recent years due to metalcore-weaned kids being exposed to the lightspeed stylings of England's DragonForce.

Throughout it all, I have stayed true to Helloween and Gamma Ray. Helloween once again secured American distribution in 1996, and after much effort I conducted a gushing interview with co-founding guitarist Michael Weikath for the college newspaper. I flew to Germany in 2000 with the express intent of seeing Gamma Ray live, since it seemed they would never come here. In 2002, they actually did, and I flew to Atlanta for their first American performance, and actually interviewed Kai Hansen and met the rest of the band. I showed Kai my fucked-up tattoo, the pumpkin which served as the "o" in the original Helloween logo, and told him it was in honor of drummer Schwichtenberg, who committed suicide in 1995 after being kicked out of Helloween and unable to manage his schizophrenia and substance abuse problems. The following year, Helloween finally toured America for the first time since 1989, and backstage before the glorious Chicago show, I interviewed bassist Markus Großkopf, the only original Helloween member remaining in the band other than Weikath. In 2006, I trucked up to Minneapolis for Gamma Ray's first (and for that brief tour, only) show in the Midwestern United States.

This leads us to today. Aside from the great Blind Guardian and a handful of others, I haven't kept up with the power metal scene in quite a while, as its general mediocrity mocks the mad genius of its creators. It's gotten to the point that while Gamma Ray still haven't changed their approach (or, since 1997, their members) and do it better than their imitators, they also seem stodgily predictable. Helloween, on the other hand, I would describe as "reliably eclectic," since despite more lineup changes they still come up with something interesting every time. But I still buy both bands' import albums so I can get all the bonus tracks, collect all of their singles with all of the b-sides and own a plethora of t-shirts promoting each, some which will always be too small to fit me.
So last winter, when Helloween and Gamma Ray announced their first joint tour in Europe, I was stoked. The idea of Weikath and Hansen performing in the same building on the same bill brought giddy visions of the hairy pair laying out those famed axe harmonies back to back as in the days of yore. It's something that never seemed important enough to anyone but myself to actually happen. Even more, it seemed inconceivable that I would see with my own eyes this momentous reunion, this symbolic forgiveness of old injuries by guys whose lyrical legacy is rooted in notions of fellowship and compassion. Then, they announced that the package was coming to the States, including the aforementioned date at The Pearl Room, the Mokena venue where all the real, non-trendy metal tours make their "Chicago" stop these days. I just about fudged my Fruit of the Looms.

The band who opened the European leg, fellow Germans Axxis, did not take part in the American shows. An early announcement I saw listed Danish Blind Guardian sound-alikes Manticora as an opener, but they also did not participate (Manticora did play three days later with Jon Oliva's Pain about five minutes from my house, but I sadly couldn't make it). Nope, this was just Helloween and Gamma Ray. That's nothing to scoff at, and you'd think it would have been very welcome to yours truly. However, this is where my first problem arose with this epochal concert for which I've waited so goddamned long.

In lieu of a European tourmate, a single band had been announced as the only support act for this show, a band whose members and music are very well liked among local fans of this type of music. I would go so far as to say that for much of their existence, this band was almost entirely responsible for maintaining representation of power metal in the area, especially when it wasn't trendy. I know for a fact that these dudes are fans of Helloween and Gamma Ray, as those acts came up during the first conversation I ever had with them. So, this local band was announced as part of the show months ago... and the night before it happened, they were kicked off the bill by the tour manager, who reportedly claimed a third act would tire the audience out, or some such nonsense. I cannot dispute that it's the headliner's prerogative to lay down a prima donna rule like that. I do, however, take issue with the timing. Waiting until the night before to straighten out whether or not a local opener's allowed isn't just unprofessional and discourteous. It's a loud message that you have no regard for your regional audience, and when you do it in a market reliant on a grassroots fanbase, you're pretty much pissing in your own porridge.

"But, wait!" you say. "That just means no one cut into the stage time of the bands you came to see! You should be happy that they both got to play a full co-headlining set." You are somewhat correct. Both Helloween and Gamma Ray did have enough time to play full sets, and that was a good thing, considering all the between-song goofing and call-and-response antics these bands typically stuff in (where another whole song or two might be better placed). You are also wrong, as a third band would not have stolen a second of time from the Germans, at least at this show. They could have even added a fourth without any hassle. Gamma Ray did not start playing until more than an hour after the show time printed on the tickets, and Helloween took an even longer break before getting on stage. I don't know the real reason for this - Deris sheepishly claimed there were "technical problems," while I also heard speculation that the delay was financially motivated, i.e. they were trying to get paid before the show or even squeezing the venue for more cash then they'd brought in. So much for the poor saps who paid an extra $45 for early entry and a pre-signed poster, who got to spend extra time standing around and staring at an empty stage.
I realize I haven't said anything positive about the show yet. Well, I was grouchy about the wait. As soon as Gamma Ray came on, I felt better. These dudes perform like classic German engineering: clean, dependable, efficient, precise. I'd seen the set lists ahead of time, but even if I hadn't, I would have guessed that they would open with "Into the Storm," the Judas Priest-y first song on their latest album, Land of the Free II. They did. It's not my favorite track from the album, nor is "Empress," the Accept-sounding tune by drummer Dan Zimmerman which was the only other new song aired. Both were actually great live, pumping with physical energy that seems lacking on disc. They dropped a few older songs from the set they'd played in Europe, yet if they hadn't, they still wouldn't have touched two early albums which I would have liked to have seen represented, as I have a deeper affinity for their old stuff.

Nonetheless, although I'd seen Gamma Ray play all the songs in the rest of the set before, they were just as strong this time. Characteristic numbers like "Valley of the Kings," "Heaven Can Wait" and the more recent "Fight" are simply what Kai Hansen does best, and with a band this tight and authoritative, cannot be diminished. Zimmerman and longtime bassist Dirk Schlächter are a devastatingly heavy rhythm section, something better felt through the feet in a live setting than simply heard at home. Guitarist Henjo Richter is a stiff, geeky dude with an enormous neck and dated hair, but the man moves like lightning on the axe. As for Mr. Hansen... he is near the top of my favorite semi-famous people of all time, and he remains there thanks to his apparent sincerity, even as his music becomes increasingly machine-like. Kai is one of very few heavy metal musicians known for smiling frequently on stage, looking as if he's enjoying himself rather than projecting anger, fear, agony or studious masturbatory musicianship. Even if his songs weren't so engaging, his animated performance would be a hell of a lot of fun to watch. I mean, the guy came back for his encore with a cigarette in his mouth, something I haven't seen since the indoor smoking ban went into effect. It was a magnificent gesture at a venue that makes paying customers pay an additional $3-$5 for a wristband if they want to go outside and smoke.

From previous experience, I knew they would cut off the amazing "Rebellion in Dreamland" halfway through, but this time, they didn't finish it at the end of their set. They also only played half of the early Helloween favorite "Ride the Sky," while leaving plenty of extra time to have different sections of the audience yell different words of the title during "Heavy Metal Universe," their mega-cheesy tribute to Manowar. This last one was hardest to take, since it's not even one of the best songs on the album it's from, yet it's the only one they still play and they always do this stretched out "audience participation" version. None of this might have mattered if this was my first time seeing the band, as it was for a lot of people at this show, but to me it's further evidence of Gamma Ray's predictability. At the very least, I would have preferred fewer homages to other bands' styles. Gamma Ray likes to do this here and there on record, but a set so heavy on such tunes doesn't leave much room for songs in the "true" style of the band at hand. This tour is nothing if not a celebration of the sound ol' smilin' Hansen helped create, and I wish he'd been bolder about showcasing his signature creations. That's really the worst I can say about them, though, as despite the nitpicks, Gamma Ray ultimately emerged as the heroes of the evening...
As I said, Helloween took a ridiculous amount of time getting their asses out of the dressing room. I've waited less time for GWAR to come out, even when they opened for themselves as the X-Cops and had to change costumes between sets. The crowd was so pissed that they started two separate chants of "What! The! Fuck!?" I was so sore-footed and sober by then, I joined in. I have never seen that happen for a headliner, let alone veterans who hadn't played an area date in five years. I mean, damn. By the time the recorded intro ("Crack the Riddle" from the new one, Gambling With the Devil) finally started, most people in the reasonably-filled venue seemed too tired to respond much.

The band began with the seasonally appropriate "Halloween," which you should remember from its ludicrous video (Helloween's first) and its 1993 "Beavis and Butt-head" cameo. It's a Hansen-penned fan favorite, one of two epic Keeper-era songs that cross the 13-minute mark, the one they didn't play on their last U.S. tour. Considering the hostility Helloween's tardiness inspired, it's lucky for them that it was a pretty damn faithful rendition, and sounded fine with Deris. After they followed it with two other great tunes, mid-'90s single "Sole Survivor" and "March of Time," the latter a deep cut they haven't played since the '80s - and as you might guess, a personal favorite - I started to let the evening's indignities go.

Although Deris and an unusually talkative Weikath both appeared to be a tad inebriated (to the point that they were joking about it, but probably weren't really joking), the band sounded good and seemed to care about their performance. Markus Großkopf, who gets my vote for most underrated metal bassist ever, absolutely had his shit together, as did guitarist Sascha Gerstner, an excellent player (and songwriter) who merely suffers from looking younger than the other leathery Germans. Since he joined in 2005, I hadn't seen drummer Dani Löble before. He proved to be the German powerhouse he is on CD, absolutely merciless on the speedy parts. Löble was not so precise on the tricky patterns at the beginning of "Sole Survivor," or later on the little showcase built into "Eagle Fly Free," but that's forgivable considering his strengths otherwise. His drum solo, though... oh, what I wouldn't give for a federal mandate capping all drum solos during rock concerts at one minute maximum. After that, only the very young or the retarded are interested. Dani's wasn't any more indulgent than any other I've ever seen, but inserted after merely five songs, it put the brakes on the show much too soon, and it never really recovered.

The remainder of Helloween's set was a really fucking odd mix-and-match of old and new songs. Five entire albums were ignored, including their previous two(!), and you can make it seven if you count the debut EP and the all-covers album. Two other albums only got a brief nod during an interminable encore medley (more on this later). They only played one song from 2000's The Dark Ride, another very good album the band claims not to like due to fighting during its construction. Yet the song they played was one of their lightweight "fun" singles, "Mr. Torture," which was written by ex-drummer Uli Kusch, who Weikath infamously fired via email following the Dark Ride tour. Like I said, really fucking odd. From the new disc, we only got the video tracks: the mediocre pop tune "As Long As I Fall" and speedy monster "Paint a New World," Helloween's best choice for a promo track in about a decade. The latter was awesome live, although for some reason they added an extra couple of beats right before every chorus, as if it were a cushion so they could catch up with one another. "Dr. Stein" is always a gas, except here Deris kept singing the "into the night" line from the chorus in a silly shriek that became immediately grating. He had to have been drunk. I mean, this guy sings it better.

Then, the medley. I hate medleys. They're an ineffective way for bands with lots of songs to placate fans. They're ultimately frustrating, since you're only getting a piece of a song you like, and maybe not the part you really want to hear. Just play one song all the way through. Fuck! Well, I was prepared for this one, since as I said, I saw the set list ahead of time. However, I did not know that of the five songs enclosed, four of them really good, they would choose to stretch out the catchy if banal "Perfect Gentleman" with the old call-and-response. I was already disappointed about the songs that the delay had caused them to drop (most painfully, no "King for a 1,000 Years"), and here they were, Deris twirling some sort of Willy Wonka top hat, egging the exhausted crowd into hollering "I AM A PERFECT GENTLEMAN!" over and over... it was about this time that one friend of mine declared he could take no more and simply left. I was not about to do that, but never in my life had I pictured myself not having a great time and going apeshit at a Helloween concert. Now, I have this mixed memory, of fighting the pointless urge to scream, "Just go to the next 1/4 song already!"

The grand finale, as everyone knew, featured a Gammaween/Helloray blowout in which all members of both bands except Dan Zimmerman came out and played two Kai-penned Helloween chestnuts together. To be honest, I sang along with every word of "Future World" and "I Want Out" without thinking about the songs, as I could do in my sleep. I was waiting for the golden moment. I had soldiered on through every last bit of inconvenience, effort, financial strain, frustration and occasional embarrassment that my two solid decades of Helloween fandom has wrought for this. It didn't matter that Markus and Dirk both looked pleased thrumming away, nor that the odd duo of Andi and Kai were singing together, not even that Henjo and Sascha were there to make it a four-guitar mush. I simply needed to see Weikath and Hansen cranking out harmonies together. I saw it, nearly wept, and forgave all the evening's transgressions, even as I felt a pang of guilt for being such a undiscerning fanboy. If such a sight couldn't yank these ol' heartstrings, I would be absolutely dead inside. It's like, what does it matter? I might as well just vote for Bush in a Dress.

My second interview with Michael Weikath, conducted last month, can be read here.

New music for the season coming soon, hopefully next week. Thanks for reading.