◄♣ Club 1120 and Special Treatment Taproom ♣►

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by Raazor

Why is it that the BEST BAND in the world, are considered Satanic?

[BOTY]

Mofo's .

[BOTY]

Originally Posted by FLEXjs

Let that be a lesson to you. Don't get on my bad side.

A round object has a side ?

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by BOTY

A round object has a side ?

[Anjdog2003]

I got some exciting news. Today i paid all my bills, took a shower, got a haircut and beard trim. And got a date with a women 24 years younger than me.


[MurraT] So that must make her in her 80's[/MurraT]



Canucks are worthless.

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by BOTY

Mofo's .

Present and accounted for.

[Raazor]

Originally Posted by Rikki Z-06

Why is it that the BEST BAND in the world, are considered Satanic?

They actually have many Christian themed songs

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by Raazor

Meathead making Chili again?

I knew you would get it.

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by Raazor

They actually have many Christian themed songs

Yes, they do. At least we get it.

[Anjdog2003]

Originally Posted by Rikki Z-06

Why is it that the BEST BAND in the world, are considered Satanic?

Because they're not the best band in the world. Just because you have 200,000 people at your concert doesn't make you the best band. Just like selling 21 Billion Hamburgers doesn't make you the best burger.

Learn from me stiikiheim. You'll reach heights you never thought you could reach.

Maharishi Mahesh Adog.

[C3C7NIC]

Originally Posted by Rikki Z-06

Why is it that the BEST BAND in the world, are considered Satanic?

Satanic?


Nope, just think I could tolerate the heavy metal if stoned!

Interesting article:

Andrew Chapman, Rock music author, 43-year rock music fan, 33-year drummer
Updated November 23, 2019 · Upvoted by Alex Melzer, Founder/Editor in Chief at The Metal Observer (2000-present)
I can’t resist this question because I have a great story related to it.

In the late 1980s, I collaborated with drummer Nicko McBrain on a book about his work, entitled Iron Maiden and Nicko McBrain’s Rhythms of the Beast. Warner Bros published it in 1990, and it sold well — but they discontinued it when the band’s popularity diminished later in the decade.

For the main part of this project I spent ten days in Cologne, Germany with Nicko and the band. They were rehearsing for their 1988 Seventh Son world tour. Prior to this, I’d only met Nicko once, just for a couple hours to talk about the project over dinner. We’d also talked on the phone a few times.

So, needless to say, I was quite excited about this trip to Germany. I’d been a fan of the band at that point for about seven years, had all their albums, and had seen them in concert. I kept wondering if I was dreaming all this. And then, as I’m flying over the Atlantic — all by myself at a young age, going to a foreign country for the first time — I had a sudden almost-heart-stopping thought. What if Iron Maiden were satanic?

I’d heard those stories and rumors. And now, I was committed to spending ten days with these guys, most of whom I’d never even talked to. Nicko certainly had been a charming, down-to-earth, and seemingly normal guy to me. But would he have told me that he was satanic? Of course not. Or what if he was fine but some or all of the other guys were satanists? Maybe all the preachers and others who labeled Maiden this way were right after all. Maybe the guys would all do a ritual sacrifice before each rehearsal, draining the blood of some poor stray dog. Maybe there’d be some creepy orgy involving goat’s heads and feces.

I soon talked myself out of my mental gymnastics and angst. I reasoned that the odds were very much against the band being full-on satanists. And if they had a passing interest in Aleister Crowley, well, no biggie. It didn’t seem to make Jimmy Page a bad guy.

But I still couldn’t help being more than a little nervous when I first arrived at their rehearsal facility…

So, imagine my surprise when I walked in and discovered — not a spread of heroin, cocaine, and implements for blood-letting — but rather a buffet spread of fresh fruit, yogurt, tea, sandwiches, veggie platters, sparkling water, and various chips and dips. The guys in the band and assorted techies were all milling about. They were just hanging out, talking on the phone, reading books, or kicking around a soccer ball in the parking lot. All but Bruce Dickinson were married, and a couple of them had young kids. There were no bottles of booze all over the place. No passed-out groupies. No remnants of stale pot smoke in the air. None of them even smoked cigarettes. The extent of any intoxicating substances I saw was beer — but hey, these were Brits in Germany. Of course there’d be plenty of beer.

Other than being wealthy internationally famous rock stars, they were just about the most ordinary guys you could imagine. They didn’t go out and about in limousines, but rather in taxis or boring rental passenger vans. They were incredibly friendly and welcoming to this much-younger American stranger in their midst, making sure I was comfortable and inviting me along to various outings during the ten days. Rather than digging up corpses at nearby graveyards, they went to museums and sight-seeing.

We played billiards and talked about all kinds of stuff. They had great senses of humor and were very smart. Conversational topics could go all over the place — Bruce Dickinson especially, and not surprisingly, was incredibly knowledgable about all sorts of things. (The guy also had the energy of five people and seemingly never stopped moving.)

More surprising was Steve Harris, who was not at all the frenetic and intense-looking bassist you see on stage. He was very quiet and reserved and clearly tending to the business at hand. If you didn’t know better, you might think he was the band’s manager (although this is somewhat true).

So… Iron Maiden satanic? Not at all. There wasn’t even a hint of the “dark side” during my time with them. And I spent many additional hours hanging out with the band before, during, and after a few concerts from 1988 to 1990. Their backstage behavior was as ordinary as what I saw at the rehearsal space. Sorry if it’s a disappointment, but they’re really just a bunch of professional musicians who have a very successful business making music and touring.

[Anjdog2003]

I got as far as Interesting article: "Candi helping me get a power nap with such a riveting articleHeim"

[C3C7NIC]

Originally Posted by Anjdog2003

I got as far as Interesting article: "Candi helping me get a power nap with such a riveting articleHeim"

My attempt at making Rikk~E and waddle cock feel good about their man crush on IM.

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by C3C7NIC

Satanic?


Nope, just think I could tolerate the heavy metal if stoned!

Interesting article:

Andrew Chapman, Rock music author, 43-year rock music fan, 33-year drummer
Updated November 23, 2019 · Upvoted by Alex Melzer, Founder/Editor in Chief at The Metal Observer (2000-present)
I can’t resist this question because I have a great story related to it.

In the late 1980s, I collaborated with drummer Nicko McBrain on a book about his work, entitled Iron Maiden and Nicko McBrain’s Rhythms of the Beast. Warner Bros published it in 1990, and it sold well — but they discontinued it when the band’s popularity diminished later in the decade.

For the main part of this project I spent ten days in Cologne, Germany with Nicko and the band. They were rehearsing for their 1988 Seventh Son world tour. Prior to this, I’d only met Nicko once, just for a couple hours to talk about the project over dinner. We’d also talked on the phone a few times.

So, needless to say, I was quite excited about this trip to Germany. I’d been a fan of the band at that point for about seven years, had all their albums, and had seen them in concert. I kept wondering if I was dreaming all this. And then, as I’m flying over the Atlantic — all by myself at a young age, going to a foreign country for the first time — I had a sudden almost-heart-stopping thought. What if Iron Maiden were satanic?

I’d heard those stories and rumors. And now, I was committed to spending ten days with these guys, most of whom I’d never even talked to. Nicko certainly had been a charming, down-to-earth, and seemingly normal guy to me. But would he have told me that he was satanic? Of course not. Or what if he was fine but some or all of the other guys were satanists? Maybe all the preachers and others who labeled Maiden this way were right after all. Maybe the guys would all do a ritual sacrifice before each rehearsal, draining the blood of some poor stray dog. Maybe there’d be some creepy orgy involving goat’s heads and feces.

I soon talked myself out of my mental gymnastics and angst. I reasoned that the odds were very much against the band being full-on satanists. And if they had a passing interest in Aleister Crowley, well, no biggie. It didn’t seem to make Jimmy Page a bad guy.

But I still couldn’t help being more than a little nervous when I first arrived at their rehearsal facility…

So, imagine my surprise when I walked in and discovered — not a spread of heroin, cocaine, and implements for blood-letting — but rather a buffet spread of fresh fruit, yogurt, tea, sandwiches, veggie platters, sparkling water, and various chips and dips. The guys in the band and assorted techies were all milling about. They were just hanging out, talking on the phone, reading books, or kicking around a soccer ball in the parking lot. All but Bruce Dickinson were married, and a couple of them had young kids. There were no bottles of booze all over the place. No passed-out groupies. No remnants of stale pot smoke in the air. None of them even smoked cigarettes. The extent of any intoxicating substances I saw was beer — but hey, these were Brits in Germany. Of course there’d be plenty of beer.

Other than being wealthy internationally famous rock stars, they were just about the most ordinary guys you could imagine. They didn’t go out and about in limousines, but rather in taxis or boring rental passenger vans. They were incredibly friendly and welcoming to this much-younger American stranger in their midst, making sure I was comfortable and inviting me along to various outings during the ten days. Rather than digging up corpses at nearby graveyards, they went to museums and sight-seeing.

We played billiards and talked about all kinds of stuff. They had great senses of humor and were very smart. Conversational topics could go all over the place — Bruce Dickinson especially, and not surprisingly, was incredibly knowledgable about all sorts of things. (The guy also had the energy of five people and seemingly never stopped moving.)

More surprising was Steve Harris, who was not at all the frenetic and intense-looking bassist you see on stage. He was very quiet and reserved and clearly tending to the business at hand. If you didn’t know better, you might think he was the band’s manager (although this is somewhat true).

So… Iron Maiden satanic? Not at all. There wasn’t even a hint of the “dark side” during my time with them. And I spent many additional hours hanging out with the band before, during, and after a few concerts from 1988 to 1990. Their backstage behavior was as ordinary as what I saw at the rehearsal space. Sorry if it’s a disappointment, but they’re really just a bunch of professional musicians who have a very successful business making music and touring.

Thank You for this Girly Wirly.

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by Anjdog2003

Because they're not the best band in the world. Just because you have 200,000 people at your concert doesn't make you the best band. Just like selling 21 Billion Hamburgers doesn't make you the best burger.

Learn from me stiikiheim. You'll reach heights you never thought you could reach.

Maharishi Mahesh Adog.

Mentorheim, my mind is always open.

[Kerrmudgeon]

A little song about your neighbours to the north....

YouTube (Short URL)

[MadInNc]

Originally Posted by Rikki Z-06

Thank You for this Girly Wirly.

You read it? Cliffs?

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by Anjdog2003

Because they're not the best band in the world. Just because you have 200,000 people at your concert doesn't make you the best band. Just like selling 21 Billion Hamburgers doesn't make you the best burger.

Learn from me stiikiheim. You'll reach heights you never thought you could reach.

Maharishi Mahesh Adog.

Should be an indicator though.

[Rikki Z-06]

Originally Posted by MadInNc

You read it? Cliffs?

Yes, best Band evAr.

[Steve_R]

Originally Posted by C3C7NIC

Satanic?


Nope, just think I could tolerate the heavy metal if stoned!

Interesting article:

Andrew Chapman, Rock music author, 43-year rock music fan, 33-year drummer
Updated November 23, 2019 · Upvoted by Alex Melzer, Founder/Editor in Chief at The Metal Observer (2000-present)
I can’t resist this question because I have a great story related to it.

In the late 1980s, I collaborated with drummer Nicko McBrain on a book about his work, entitled Iron Maiden and Nicko McBrain’s Rhythms of the Beast. Warner Bros published it in 1990, and it sold well — but they discontinued it when the band’s popularity diminished later in the decade.

For the main part of this project I spent ten days in Cologne, Germany with Nicko and the band. They were rehearsing for their 1988 Seventh Son world tour. Prior to this, I’d only met Nicko once, just for a couple hours to talk about the project over dinner. We’d also talked on the phone a few times.

So, needless to say, I was quite excited about this trip to Germany. I’d been a fan of the band at that point for about seven years, had all their albums, and had seen them in concert. I kept wondering if I was dreaming all this. And then, as I’m flying over the Atlantic — all by myself at a young age, going to a foreign country for the first time — I had a sudden almost-heart-stopping thought. What if Iron Maiden were satanic?

I’d heard those stories and rumors. And now, I was committed to spending ten days with these guys, most of whom I’d never even talked to. Nicko certainly had been a charming, down-to-earth, and seemingly normal guy to me. But would he have told me that he was satanic? Of course not. Or what if he was fine but some or all of the other guys were satanists? Maybe all the preachers and others who labeled Maiden this way were right after all. Maybe the guys would all do a ritual sacrifice before each rehearsal, draining the blood of some poor stray dog. Maybe there’d be some creepy orgy involving goat’s heads and feces.

I soon talked myself out of my mental gymnastics and angst. I reasoned that the odds were very much against the band being full-on satanists. And if they had a passing interest in Aleister Crowley, well, no biggie. It didn’t seem to make Jimmy Page a bad guy.

But I still couldn’t help being more than a little nervous when I first arrived at their rehearsal facility…

So, imagine my surprise when I walked in and discovered — not a spread of heroin, cocaine, and implements for blood-letting — but rather a buffet spread of fresh fruit, yogurt, tea, sandwiches, veggie platters, sparkling water, and various chips and dips. The guys in the band and assorted techies were all milling about. They were just hanging out, talking on the phone, reading books, or kicking around a soccer ball in the parking lot. All but Bruce Dickinson were married, and a couple of them had young kids. There were no bottles of booze all over the place. No passed-out groupies. No remnants of stale pot smoke in the air. None of them even smoked cigarettes. The extent of any intoxicating substances I saw was beer — but hey, these were Brits in Germany. Of course there’d be plenty of beer.

Other than being wealthy internationally famous rock stars, they were just about the most ordinary guys you could imagine. They didn’t go out and about in limousines, but rather in taxis or boring rental passenger vans. They were incredibly friendly and welcoming to this much-younger American stranger in their midst, making sure I was comfortable and inviting me along to various outings during the ten days. Rather than digging up corpses at nearby graveyards, they went to museums and sight-seeing.

We played billiards and talked about all kinds of stuff. They had great senses of humor and were very smart. Conversational topics could go all over the place — Bruce Dickinson especially, and not surprisingly, was incredibly knowledgable about all sorts of things. (The guy also had the energy of five people and seemingly never stopped moving.)

More surprising was Steve Harris, who was not at all the frenetic and intense-looking bassist you see on stage. He was very quiet and reserved and clearly tending to the business at hand. If you didn’t know better, you might think he was the band’s manager (although this is somewhat true).

So… Iron Maiden satanic? Not at all. There wasn’t even a hint of the “dark side” during my time with them. And I spent many additional hours hanging out with the band before, during, and after a few concerts from 1988 to 1990. Their backstage behavior was as ordinary as what I saw at the rehearsal space. Sorry if it’s a disappointment, but they’re really just a bunch of professional musicians who have a very successful business making music and touring.

Cliffs?