When I landed in Colorado Springs, I found the tour on yet another leg, this one heading to the Broadmoor World Arena just down the road. Even better, they assembled a fresh group of top-notch openers, turning the stop into a mini-festival celebrating the band’s final jaunt. Unlike the last stop, the Broadmoor World Arena was kind enough to let concertgoers know that the start time on the ticket was not a joke.
Despite the stature of the openers, all of whom headline their own shows in smaller venues, all three played shorter sets to avoid upstaging the headliner. Right at 6, Phil Anselmo and the Illegals took to the stage.
The former Pantera frontman dedicated their set to his late bandmates the Abbott brothers, guitarist Dimebag Darrel and drummer Vinnie Paul. He still hit the high notes relatively, and covered the band’s history in eight songs and less than 40 minutes. He favored songs from their breakthrough, Vulgar Display of Power (Walk, Mouth for War, F—in Hostile) and 1994's Far Beyond Driven (Becoming, Strength Beyond Strength).
If you stopped listening to Ministry around 1995 like I did, they crafted an ideal set. The Missing, Deity and Stigmata hailed from The Land of Rape and Honey, and reminded me how groundbreaking this band was in the early 90s before drug excesses sent them off the rails. A cover of Black Sabbath’s Supernaut fit seamlessly in the eight-song set. Psalm 69 received three songs, including the always-blistering Jesus Built My Hotrod as a finale. NWO was updated from the first Bush administration to the Trump administration, and Just One Fix’s harrowing, apocalyptic sound fits its tale of opioid addiction. Frontman Al Jourgensen slotted Thieves into the mix. Chalk it up to low expectations, but Ministry was the surprise of the night. They were incisive, direct and despite all the drug use, Jourgensen’s voice came through clear as on those 30-year-old records. They were also nearly invisible on stage – thanks to the light and smoke effects, I counted a few fleeting glimpses of band members moving around. Beyond a little between-song banter from Jourgensen, the band was mostly anonymous.
The last opener raised eyebrows and more than a few yawns. Yes, Primus has a thrash metal background and counts most of the groups from that first wave as its friends. But they felt totally out of place. Stretching the bass-heavy songs to 10 minutes or more caused a bit of a lull. They mixed up the heavier favorites (My Name is Mud, Those Damn Blue Collar Tweekers, Here Come the Bastards) with quieter material like Southbound Pachyderm, a personal favorite. Closing with the peppy Jerry was a Race Car Driver livened the audience anxious for its headliner.
By the time the curtain dropped and the pyrotechnics launched for Repentless, Slayer seemed the same fine-tuned machine from Nashville in summer 2018.
As before, the setlist leaned heavily on the band’s classic triptych of Reign in Blood, South of Heaven and Seasons in the Abyss. Had Slayer ever had any hits, you might call it a greatest hits setlist. But the list was without a weak moment. They touched on almost every song, and the setlist was mixed up enough from the earlier show that I didn’t feel like they were going through the motions at the end of a final tour. They brought the energy and bodies went flinging around the main floor.
Guitarists Kerry King and Gary Holt charged through their riffs and solos while Paul Bostaph kept pace with the double bass drum all night. After standing on the floor for the Nashville show, I was fine with a seat for this show. The floor crowd seemed a bit more frenzied than in Nashville, although vantage point might have played a role. For me, the swirling pit at the center of the crowd was better observed than joined.
For all those who focus on Slayer’s speed, the band never sheds its darkness on slower tempos – I put Seasons in the Abyss up against any of their songs built on buzzsaw guitar riffs. They slotted South of Heaven between Hell Awaits and Show No Mercy, the two oldest songs of the night and title tracks on their first two records.
Angel of Death was again the closer. The opener to Reign in Blood is every bit as blistering when it ends a show. If the music had not pummeled you by this point, you were at the wrong show. Slayer is never much for banter, although bassist/singer Tom Araya takes a little time to address to crowd with a few moments of appreciate . With songs built on dark themes and shows of force, the show's energy stuck with me for hours after the house lights come up. It's impossible to avoid at a Slayer show.
It’s easy to worry that the final tour might lead to a reunion down the road – how many times have Kiss or Simon and Garfunkel launched “final” tours? These guys felt done with touring. Their last album, Repentless, arrived in 2015 and only got a single song (When the Stillness Comes) after the concert opener.
After 35-plus years of pummeling riffs, zero airplay and no compromises, the band seemed ready to call it good. If this is really the last of Slayer, the two shows I caught showcased a band that roared till its last note.
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| Tom Araya commands attention |
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