Archive for the 'Metal Photography' Category

The Estradablog Has Landed

May 14, 2008

I was lucky to meet Kevin Estrada while writing my Van Halen book, Everybody Wants Some. A lifelong devotee of the band, he had been photographing them since age 12. Weaned on Van Halen, Estrada came into his own as a professional rock photographer in Los Angeles during the glory days of 1980s metal. Now we are all lucky that he’s launched a blog to show off classic photos and tell charming stories about taking pictures at historical nights like Iron Maiden playing Long Beach Area in 1985, or the above shot of Rob Halford singing with Black Sabbath in 1992. Following is the unedited photographer’s note I wrote about his exploits, a shorter version of which appears in my book.

LINK TO THE KEVIN ESTRADA BLOG

PHOTOGRAPHER’S NOTE

[Unedited text from Everybody Wants Some: The Van Halen Saga]

Photographer Kevin Estrada, who took most of the rare photos included in Everybody Wants Some, deserves special thanks and attention. These shots capture his lifelong infatuation with Van Halen, which began when he and his brother pooled their pocket money to buy Van Halen from a department store record bin – based solely on the band’s looks. As a sixth grader, he was suspended for squirting a VH logo on the school walls with mustard packets – also as a 12-year old, he shot the photos of Van Halen’s 1978 tour that appear in this book.

Raised in Arcadia, CA, Estrada grew up in Van Halen country, and the band tweaked his life in unexpected ways. Estrada was constantly bumping into his favorite band, asking them to autograph his bag of Dorito’s or his ever-present Van Halen albums.A family dinner at the local Mexican restaurant Peppers once led to a chance encounter with Michael Anthony’s birthday party – and Estrada’s dad mistaking David Lee Roth for Peter Frampton. Later, Roth nearly ran over Estrada and his friends in his red Mercury lowrider while filming of the “Panama” video.

In high school, Estrada befriended Michael Anthony’s younger brother Dennis, who supplied him with first-generation live tapes. Their principal had a signed Van Halen poster hanging in his office, which Estrada was eventually encouraged to visit without cooking up a reason to get in trouble. Estrada later took guitar lessons at Dr. Music, where Eddie Van Halen bought and repaired his gear. Eddie gave him a guitar pick and a pat on the back, but Estrada had other ideas. “All my friends wanted to be Eddie Van Halen, and I wanted to be the guy down there shooting Van Halen.”

Estrada began sneaking his camera into concerts, capturing hard rock acts like Scorpions, and of course, Van Halen. “I would tape my camera to the back of my neck with duct tape, hoping the security guys wouldn’t go up that far. My friend had a huge afro like Dee Snider from Twisted Sister, and he would stick my telephoto lens under the neck of his leather jacket. I also had a friend who had a really large chest, and she’d stash the lens in her blouse.”

Incredibly, Estrada took most of the photos here from the audience, popping up and down quickly, keeping one eye on the band and one eye on security. When he was 15, a bouncer sent him flying across the room with a punch to the head. Other years, he got lucky – another school friend’s mom worked for David Lee Roth’s father in his medical office, and got tickets close to the stage. He only regrets that he could only afford one roll of film the final time he shot classic Van Halen, on the 1984 tour. “I had to be very careful that night.”

Estrada now lives in Burbank, CA, with his wife and two daughters. He has photographed professionally acts including Nirvana, The Cure, and Slayer and his work also appears in Johnny Cash: From the Editors of Rolling Stone and The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx

[photo caption: Eddie Van Halen’s cigarette butts. “I was talking with Eddie and he was chain-smoking. When he left, I just picked them up and grabbed them. When you’re a kid, that’s like having the shirt off his back.”]

LINK

Bang Bang Meditation: Visualize a Slayer Party

May 12, 2008

The pressure is building already, and it’s so early in the day. You feel the twitch in your temples. Why won’t the phone stop ringing? How are you going to finish everything in time? If you have another coffee, you’ll crack, but you can’t concentrate. You’re killing yourself!

No, wait — I think I hear skateboard wheels riding a pool. The keg is tapped, and all your friends are there. It’s the heat of summer. But there’s a shady spot just under the Slayer logo calling you. Somebody’s got a joint, and that girl you’ve seen around in a Beherit shirt is just hanging out. Everything’s going to be just fine.

Visualize it: You are in the Slayer bowl.

 

 

Deranged in Spain

May 10, 2008

Yep, it\'s a heavy metal bar.

Does the place where you hang out and listen to metal have a massive garish wall mural covering its entire fucking face, and make you feel like you live in a Sepultura or Iron Angel album cover from 1985? Unless you answered “Si!” — I don’t think so. Tyrant is one of several total metal clubs ringing the open sublevels of a housing complex northwest of downtown Madrid, Spain. Exactly across the courtyard is Club Lemmy, a hard rock bar open since 1980, boasting its own eight-foot tall picture-perfect Motörheadbeast mural.

Unfortunately for me, Spanish bars and restaurants open and close seven times a day — just in case the Moors decide to invade again. I missed the action at Tyrant several times, but I went on a 14-mile walk instead and watched a bullfight, found the squatters at an enormous street fair, took a nap in a park, ate fried bacalao and drank tiny beers and cava, and stumbled onto a mythically cool building that turned out to be the General Society of Authors and Editors [SGAE]. Madrid is a great sprawling maze of a city, an easy place to get lost and find a prize.

History Lesson, Pt. III

April 11, 2008

[Click image to enlarge]

Hey look, it’s our founding fathers (and mother Kira Roessler), the ones that really matter. This excellent info-graphic charts the 11-year history and changing hairs of fundamental psychotic California hardcore band Black Flag, If I could get this printed onto disposable paper placemats, I’d take them with me everywhere I go and eat every meal blessed by these people I consider to be as holy as monks.

Artist unknown–but the Henry Rollins head is obviously copied from a sketch of Charles Manson, and that’s pretty goddamn funny!

Who Are You? #4

April 10, 2008

Nope, not David Bowie, and not Gary Numan, either. Here he comes now!

Who do you think? Close your eyes and comment…

Who Are You? #3

March 31, 2008

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So you figured out the faces in Who Are You? #1 and #2. Next in our ongoing series of semi-embarrassing early photos of classic metal bands (because it’s a lot easier than digitizing old tapes!), here’s a forgotten line-up of a long-running operation. Would you donate blood to these guys? Close your eyes and comment, and all will be revealed…

UPDATE: In particular, can you identify the platform-boot glampire at far left? That’s the real question!

Thanks, Brant!

Life Imitates Shirt

March 14, 2008

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“Corpse paint on shirt…corpse paint on face,” writes Pat D. It is a little uncanny, like a hall of mirrors. Give it a few seconds to start to bang around in your brain…

—–Corpse paint on black shirt
Corpse paint on face–hold my torch
———-Brazilian Kult

Thanks, Pat D!

Who Are You? #2

February 13, 2008

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I have nothing to say here that wouldn’t be a dead giveaway. The two guys on the right are still in this band, and note that the young buck in the fancy middle eastern neckgear to far right is frowning… Close your eyes and comment!

Thank you, PatD!

Who Are You? #1

February 13, 2008

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This mystery arrived in my mailbox today. I thought the dude in middle with the nasty homemade codpiece might be “Evil Chuck” Schuldiner circa 1983, but no dice. Please comment first, then think later–this is a good one!

Obrigado, Javier!

Spill the Blood Onto the Red Carpet

February 11, 2008

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Yippee for Slayer, they made King Diamond, Machine Head, As I Lay Dying, and Shadows Fall eat hot wet mud tonight by taking home the Grammy for Top Metal Performance. And there to accept the chalice of Grammy blood was the Araya brood. The cute clan rises each morning by warming their tootsies on a bed of freshly-laid hot coals raked by groundskeeper Satan, so the red carpet is really no big deal. I’m proud of them, but baffled beyond belief, and brain-blocked by a torrent of tasteless jokes the least offensive of which is wondering how long until Tom Jr. replaces Kerry King in Slayer.

(If this in any way leads to a reality show for the Araya clan, Tom really will go to hell.)

Congratulations to Tom, Kerry, Jeff, and Dave. Maybe next year, King Diamond…