Slayer 66 2/3: The Jeff & Dave Years. A Metal Band Biography.

by Ferris, D. X.

  A year and a half later, when Slayer needed a guitarist, Holt was the first name — and, eventually, the last — that came to mind. Then and now, he was bona fide.

  “I mean he was there, from the beginning,” Lombardo told Metal Rules. “He knows that style…. He’s part of the family. He’s from that time, and we have the common past.”

  The band reached a consensus and penciled in Holt as its no. 1 draft pick. King reached out to Holt, catching him shortly after Exodus returned home from the 70,000 Tons of Metal concert cruise47-7.

  Exodus was enjoying a hard-won career renaissance. But King’s offer of steady gigs — and paychecks — on dry land was too good to refuse. Holt was in.

  At Holt’s first rehearsal with Slayer, the prospect didn’t disappoint.

  Lombardo told Metal Rules his audition was “Fantastic. He’s very professional. He did his homework. He stepped up, big time.… He’s a fantastic musician.”47-8

  Metallica had long ago poached another Exodus guitarist, Kirk Hammett.

  “I think Gary Holt – I think Metallica took the wrong dude,” King told me 2007. “Gary Holt’s bad-ass. And that’s not to say Kirk Hammett isn’t. Gary is the one that, historically, I just like Gary’s playing.”

  Now, as always, Slayer wouldn’t repeat Metallica’s mistake.

  Holt wasn’t a big name outside the metal world. But he was a ranked shredder and recognized guitar hero.

  In 2004 — when the Exodus brand was far from its premium worth — Guitar World awarded a spot on its Greatest Metal Guitarists of All Time list to the classic Exodus team of Holt and Rick Hunolt, ranking them as its no. 72 shredders.

  (King and Hanneman, together, took the no. 10 spot. Metallica’s Kirk Hammett and James Hetfield placed at no. 2, behind Black Sabbath’s Tony Iommi.)47-9

  Achieving that recognition had taken Holt longer than most.

  Launched in 1980, Exodus prefigured the Big Four bands. But the group didn’t release an album until after the Big Four made their debuts. Holt thought his band could hold its own against the bigger groups.

  “I think it should be the Big Five with Exodus,” Holt told Metal Asylum’s Rich Catino in 2010. “Because we were there at the start of thrash metal with Metallica in the real early '80s.”47-10

  Many a discriminating metalhead and musician correctly consider Exodus a great band. But the group never achieved the largest levels of commercial success: In thrash’s golden age, Exodus had major-label deal, but never went gold or platinum, and never headlined a tour in full-size arenas. (1989’s Fabulous Disaster tour topped out in venues with a capacity around 10,000, like Tampa’s Sun Dome — but more frequently played 5,000 seaters like Oakland’s Kaiser Convention Center and Atlanta’s Civic Center.)

  Exodus would hit other heights, but the band peaked early, with Bonded by Blood, which remains Holt’s favorite selection from his extensive catalog. After that 1985 classic, the irreplaceable, volatile Paul Baloff was replaced with original Testament/Legacy singer Steve “Zetro” Souza. The group got some airplay on Headbanger’s Ball with 1989’s “Toxic Waltz,” an ode to moshing that felt like a novelty record.

  From the get-go, Exodus had the strongest antisocial streak of the varsity thrash bands. Slayer and Metallica sang about fantastic murder and diabolical rituals, but Exodus specialized in realistic interpersonal mayhem (“Bonded by Blood”). The group wrote more evolved lyrics in later years (like the political “Children of a Worthless God”).

  Following two major-label albums, Exodus split in 1993, after the grunge revolution relegated metal to the scrap heap. Holt and Souza worked at a roofing company, and other members took lucrative union labor jobs.

  With Holt at the helm, Exodus reunited, reshuffled, and re-broke up. The group reformed in 2001, and the band gradually ramped up its activity until it was a regular presence touring and recording.

  Exodus has hosted 19 members since its first album. As of June 21 2013, it had 3,895 references on Blabbermouth. Despite an eight-year hiatus, the band managed to record nine original studio albums (as of Exhibit B) — tied with Metallica, with just one less than Slayer and Testament, and five fewer than Megadeth.

  In 2005, the group attained the dubious distinction of having just one member left from its debut album: Holt. So he knows what it’s like to wrestle with the issue of replacement players.

  "Some people criticized it still being [called] Exodus, but I didn't go into that album planning on not having everybody there," Holt told me in 2008. “I think [it would have been different] if we split up and, 10 years later, I came back with four different guys and called it Exodus. I went into rehearsals as Exodus, and then all this shit happened. I'm not going to let the band die over it."47-11

  A career after Exodus guitarists’ paths diverged, Holt wasn’t bitter about Kirk Hammett’s success in Metallica. Master of Puppets remained his favorite metal album47-12. And Holt was content with his own body of work. With Holt as its captain, Exodus slugged its way through a respectable second career. Witness a decade’s worth of reviews at Blabbermouth:

  Borivoj Krgin scored 2003’s Tempo of the Damned an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10, with user reviews averaging 8.7 47-13. Released in 2005, Shovel Headed Kill Machine received an 8.5, with user reviews averaging 8.0 47-14. Released in 2007, The Atrocity Exhibition: Exhibit A received an 8, with users rating it 8.6 47-15. And Exhibit B: The Human Condition, released in 2010, rated a 7.5 from the site, with users scoring it 8.5 47-16.

  Exhibit A, the cream of the crop, was released in October 2007. Having covered the thrash renaissance exhaustively, Decibel didn’t rank Exhibit A among the year’s better albums — but still found it to be OK: The disc scored a 7 on a 10 scale47-17. In a later feature, though, the magazine’s Adam Tepedelen gave the band’s 21st century body of work a thumbs-up: “…we would fervently argue that said material kicked some serious fucking ass.”47-18

  Led by Holt, 21st-century Exodus has been more prolific than Slayer — four albums in seven years — and fans tend to like the band’s records more than Slayer fans do.

  Through the years, Holt is the only member of Exodus to play on every album — though, eventually, he wouldn’t be able to say he had played every concert. He also produced a record by thrash revivalists Warbringer and authored an instructional video, A Lesson in Guitar Violence.

  But Exodus remained his calling. He’s even more essential to his band than Hanneman was: Holt has contributed to every original Exodus song. He wrote nine of 10 The Atrocity Exhibition... Exhibit A songs solo, penning the lyrics and music. And he wrote 10 of 12 solo on Exhibit B: The Human Condition by himself. Then Slayer called.

  Since Holt joined Slayer, he has been understandably mum on his position in the organization. When he joined, the group issued a release that conveyed his reaction. He didn’t address the decision to step away from Exodus; he just said the gig was a good opportunity.

  “How can I put into words how excited I am to have been asked to play with Slayer? Hard to describe, for sure. Legendary band, check. Old friends since the birth of thrash metal. Check. Get to play 'Angel Of Death' live, priceless! I'll do my best to live up to the standard they've set for so many years, while we all wish Jeff a speedy return to health and his rightful place in Slayer."#47-19

  As the face of Exodus, Holt had the respect of his peers and fans, but high regard didn’t pay the bills. If your tastes ran to the old school, 2007’s The Atrocity Exhibition... Exhibit A was one of the better albums from the thrash revival. But the band was still moshing its way through the club circuit, with tourmates half Holt’s age.

  "All of the [big] bands from our era have money," he said in 2008. "They have houses. They have a level of comfort I don't know. So I'm constantly pushing myself to go back and reclaim what I truly believe is mine. And that's the crown at the top of the heap."47-20

  After more than 30 intermittent years in the game, Holt was playing with the kings of metal.

  “Gary’s part
of the family,” says Goodman. “He’s the perfect replacement. Anybody from a more recent band would be a fan, where Gary never wanted to be in Slayer, [was] never thinking he was in Slayer — he was filling in for his buddy, Jeff. He was going to be in their dressing room, drinking their beer anyway. He might as well play.”

  After Hanneman died, the Slayer organization held a public memorial. The band’s management read a statement from his widow, Kathryn, in which she remembered her husband learning about Holt replacing him. Her note described Hanneman responding to the news with an enthusiastic “Fuck yeah!”

  A month later, Guitar World revealed that “Fuck yeah!” was actually just one of Hanneman’s responses — after Fuck no!

  “I remember when the tour came up,” Kathryn told Kitts. “Jeff said to me, ‘No. No. There’s no way in hell this band is going on without me. He was definitely hurt… but eventually, he became okay with it, and a lot of that was because it was his friend Gary that was going to fill in for him. He knew the band had to go on.”47-21

  Click here to Google search “Slayer photos 2011”

  Chapter 48:

  Slayer Without Hanneman

  February 26, 2011. Slayer played their first show in its 29-year history without Jeff Hanneman.

  The show took place in Australia, at Brisbane’s RNA Showground’s. (Two years later, the Brisbane venue would see the live debut of another Slayer lineup.)

  With Hanneman in an American hospital and Slayer on the other side of the world, the new lineup took the stage in daylight, highlighted by red floods. With shoulder-length hair and a Schecter V-body guitar, Holt fit in just short of seamlessly, his signature buzzing guitar tone modulated closer to Hanneman’s shrieking sound. Toward the set’s end, Holt’s style was most conspicuous — though not out of place — in the guitar harmonies at the beginning of “Raining Blood.”

  The set list was a standard Slayer festival show, with new tunes — including the live debut of “Americon” — and deep cuts:

  1. “World Painted Blood”

  2. “Hate Worldwide”

  3. “War Ensemble”

  4. “Postmortem”

  5. “Hallowed Point”

  6. “Americon”

  7. “Payback”

  8. “Mandatory Suicide”

  9. “Temptation”

  10. “South of Heaven”

  11. “Raining Blood”

  12. “Black Magic”

  13. “Angel of Death”

  King stayed mobile through the show, putting his body into headbanging. Araya stood rooted front and center, but his feral sound and tense stance suggested he might leap into the crowd at any minute.

  Lombardo punished his kit through “Angel of Death,” and the concert was over. Slayer had done it. Without their co-founder, the band had put on a good show.

  Then it wasn’t long before Slayer, after never changing guitarists in nearly 30 years, added a second replacement player.

  In April, Exodus was scheduled to open a stadium show for Iron Maiden in South America. Faced with the awesome Exodus opportunity, Holt had to step away from his Slayer gig. Pat O’Brien, guitarist of death metal cult heroes Cannibal Corpse, filled in for seven European shows that month.

  O’Brien was so determined to nail the gigs that he sometimes skipped the hotel and just stayed in the dressing room, practicing and steeling himself for the show.

  Lombardo thought O’Brien handled the gig well.

  “Pat was nervous,” Lombardo said to Austrian metal site Stormbringer.at. “He was very, very nervous. But he did such a great job. He worked so hard. He only had... five or six days [to practice]. He flew in and he immediately went to work in the dressing room. I feel he nailed it. He did everything perfect."48-1

  But the shredder was a temporary replacement for the replacement. The group sounded fine. O’Brien capably emulated Hanneman’s tone and style. But Holt was back in the lineup as soon as possible. As, said the band, Hanneman would be.

  “Hanneman has amazed his doctors with his speedy recovery from an infection thought to have been caused by a spider bite,” noted Slayer in the replacement–replacement announcement that arrived March 30, 2011. “Following surgery on his right arm, he continues his physical therapy and has already been practicing with his guitar.”48-2

  A year later, Slayer’s May 2012 statement filled in some crucial details they omitted at the time. Two months after his surgery, Hanneman was still in the hospital, dosed with strong antibiotics, undergoing painful skin graft surgeries and recovering at a pace that was encouraging, but maddeningly slow48-3.

  Soon, though, Hanneman was back on stage with the band. It looked like his absence would be brief.

  Chapter 49:

  The Big Four, Part II

  One of the biggest metal shows in American history ended with Jeff Hanneman taking the stage and performing with Slayer for a final time.

  The first US Big Four concert took place April 23, 2011, at the Empire Polo Club in Indio, California, the site of the renowned Coachella festival. (It was 28 years to the day after the show when Hanneman met Kathryn.)

  “I prefer to call it ‘The Slayer show that Metallica closed,’” offers Doug Goodman, Slayer’s old tour manager, who was backstage for the monumental occasion.

  Going into the show, fans expected another set with Holt. And they got one.

  But Slayer had some surprises up their sleeves.

  In the weeks leading up to the show, Hanneman had been practicing with the band. The band were rehearsing four songs with its original guitarist, who was still far from full recuperation.

  The group still hadn’t revealed the extent of Hanneman’s condition. Knowing what they knew, they were glad he could play at all. The fact he could even take the stage was inspiring.

  A year later, when the band shared the full details of Hanneman’s condition immediately following the surgery, fans would find out just how hard Hanneman had to work to step on the stage: After the physical ordeals of the surgeries, the coma, the recovery process, and the ongoing rehab, Hanneman didn’t just have to learn how to play again. Following the medically necessary body horrors, Hanneman could not even walk. When he was well enough to get out of bed, he had to learn to balance and put one foot in front of the other49-1.

  Once he could walk, Hanneman tried to get his arms to work their magic again. But as the landmark California concert approached, the tunes weren’t shaping up.

  The day of the show, King made the call: Hanneman’s playing was not up to snuff. His cameo was cut short, from four songs to two.

  “I said, 'Dude, don't show anybody your weakness right now,’” King revealed to Nikki Blakk of radio show Metal Zone a year later. “People are gonna be stoked to see it. If you go up there for four songs, people are gonna start focusing on you, and they're gonna see that you're not playing that good. Do yourself a favor: Do two songs, have your big fucking moment, and leave it at that."

  Hanneman did have his final moment. As Anthrax and Megadeth played their sets, Hanneman geared up in the dressing room. Even friends who were close enough to score backstage passes were surprised to find Hanneman on hand.

  Slayer played their usual set with Holt:

  1. “World Painted Blood”

  2. “Hate Worldwide”

  3. “War Ensemble”

  4. “Postmortem”

  5. “Raining Blood”

  6. “Black Magic”

  7. “Dead Skin Mask”

  8. “Silent Scream”

  9. “The Antichrist”

  10. “Americon

  11. “Payback”

  12. “Seasons in the Abyss”

  13. “Snuff”

  And Holt didn’t return for the encore.

  Behind a wall of Marshalls, Hanneman snuck toward the stage, his gait askew. He looked ten years older than he had a year ago. Now his skin was wrinkled, nose swollen, hair longer than ever, goatee and head blended blond and gray. Weakened and da
maged, he was still dressed for war. He wore his customary hockey pads on his shins, the black armor that matched the rest of his outfit.

  The baroque intro of “South of Heaven” echoed over the crowd. Green and white lights washed over the stage. The crowd roared and surged.

  Lombardo walked up to the kit, black ballcap on backward.

  King entered from stage left.

  Hanneman stood just off the stage, waiting to go on, wearing a black long-sleeve over his scars, scared to show his damage. Then he decided: After a near-death experience and a long walk back, he wasn’t about to turn shy.

  “Fuck it,” said Hanneman.

  He tore the right sleeve off his shirt, revealing the long, thick lines of pink scar tissue on his pale white arm. And he strolled onto the stage, right hand raised defiantly.

  At the same time, next to Hanneman, Araya drifted on from the stage right. The crowd was loud, and they roared more when they realized the second guitarist wasn’t Holt. It was Hanneman. He was back.