"Dimebag" Darrell Abbott
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0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page i BLACK TOOTH GRIN THE HIGH LIFE, GOOD TIMES, AND TRAGIC END OF “DIMEBAG” DARRELL ABBOTT Zac Crain Da Capo Press A Member of the Perseus Books Group 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page ii Copyright © 2009 by Zac Crain All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Printed in the United States of America. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Crain, Zac. Black tooth grin : the high life, good times, and tragic end of 'Dimebag' Darrell Abbott / Zac Crain. p. cm. Includes discography. ISBN 978-0-306-81524-9 (alk. paper) 1. Abbott, Darrell. 2. Guitarists—United States—Biography 3. Rock musicians—Biography. I. Title. ML419.A04C73 2009 787.87'166092—dc22 [B] 2008040662 First Da Capo Press edition 2009 Published by Da Capo Press A Member of the Perseus Books Group www.dacapopress.com Da Capo Press books are available at special discounts for bulk purchases in the U.S. by corporations, institutions, and other organizations. For more information, please contact the Special Markets Department at the Perseus Books Group, 2300 Chestnut Street, Suite 200, Philadelphia PA 19103, or call (800) 810-4145, extension 5000, or e-mail [email protected]. 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page iii TRACK LISTING Introduction: Blink of an Eye vii SIDE ONE: METAL MAGIC (1966–1988) 1 AND THE CRADLE WILL ROCK 2 Born Country and Western, Raised Heavy Metal 2 HEAVY METAL RULES 18 “Diamond” Darrell Lance, Dime Bags, and Life on the Road 3 FLAMING YOUTH 29 Brothers from Another Mother 4 RIGHT ON THE EDGE 41 Rita Haney, Ride the Lightning, and Philip Anselmo BONUS TRACK: THE ART OF SHREDDING 57 The “Dean from Hell” iii 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page iv iv – CONTENTS SIDE TWO: COWBOYS FROM HELL (1989–1995) 5 BECOMING 62 Cowboys from Hell, by Way of Hurricane Hugo 6 A NEW LEVEL 76 “Metal Gods” and Other Monsters of Rock 7 RISE 94 From Skid Row to Spacewalking with Ace Frehley 8 DOMINATION 107 The Heaviest Album to Hit No. 1 on the Charts BONUS TRACK: BY DEMONS BE DRIVEN 130 Devil’s Night, Dime’s Night SIDE THREE: THIRTEEN STEPS TO NOWHERE (1996–2000) 9 YESTERDAY DON’T MEAN SHIT 136 The Highs and Lows of Rock and Roll 10 PLANET CARAVAN 151 Endorsements, Existentialism, and Endless Nights 11 PSYCHO HOLIDAY 159 Rebel Meets Rebel, Hockey Players, and Strippers 12 GODDAMN ELECTRIC 167 Don’t Call It a Comeback BONUS TRACK: THIS LOVE 178 Good Friends and a Tray of Shots 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page v CONTENTS – v SIDE FOUR: NEW FOUND POWER (2001–2004) 13 SHATTERED 184 The End of Pantera 14 HOLLOW 190 “Dr. Dime” Starts Over 15 REBORN 202 The Abbott Brothers Concoct a Damageplan 16 BREATHING NEW LIFE 207 On the Road Again 17 SHEDDING SKIN 222 Grinding a New Axe and the Birth of Krankenstein 18 SLAUGHTERED 227 Alrosa Villa, December 8, 2004 19 CEMETERY GATES 246 A Raucous Farewell to a Cowboy from Hell BONUS TRACK: LIGHT COMES OUT OF BLACK 251 The Legend of the “Black Tooth Grin” Epilogue: I’ll Cast a Shadow 261 Tributes, Lawsuits, and Riffs from the Great Beyond Acknowledgments 267 A Darrell Abbott Discography 269 Selected Bibliography 273 Notes 277 Index 283 About the Author 303 9781586487843-text1.qxd:9781586487843-text1.qxd 7/8/09 10:05 AM Page iv 1 2 3 4 “This page left intentionally blank.” 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 REAL PAGES 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page vii Introduction Blink of an Eye This was the boring part of Mitch Carpenter’s job, telling assholes like the guy in the red Pontiac Grand Am they couldn’t park their cars wherever they felt like it. If one were to break it down, what Mitch did, it was like being a glorified hall monitor sometimes. The Grand Am had pulled to a stop next to the fence border- ing the patio area at Alrosa Villa. The low-key, stucco-sided building had been hosting heavy metal shows in Columbus, Ohio, for more than three decades. Albert Catuela and his wife, Rosa—hence the name “Alrosa”—opened the club in 1974 and just about every hard-rock band worth a damn had graced (if that word was appropriate) the stage since then. The driver of the Grand Am, a burly six-foot-something with a shaved head, had been heading for Alrosa Villa’s front door, probably in search of tickets for tonight’s show. He’d have to wait. Mitch turned him around and made him move his car. Mitch walked back to his post in the parking lot. It was only 9 P.M., but he’d already been working for almost three hours. vii 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page viii viii – INTRODUCTION Having his brother, David, here with him, working security in the parking lot, too, might make the time pass a little quicker, but it didn’t do a damn thing about the weather. If winter wasn’t here yet, it was at least close enough to count. Maybe later he would duck inside, get out of the chill, and check out some of the show. Two of the guys from Pantera were in a new band that was headlining tonight and—wait. Christ. Now the red Grand Am was parked by Alrosa’s sign, which, besides marking the club’s location off Sinclair Road, also happened to be a no-parking zone. Dammit. What did he want, valet parking? Mitch waved the driver away: “Hey, can’t park there either.” The beefy guy at the wheel nodded and—again— eased out of his illegal space without putting up a fight. Maybe it was going to be one of those nights, a trying shift that found Mitch having to practically hold everyone’s hand like a kindergarten teacher. Or maybe not. Maybe it would be a bor- ing night, the kind you hope for when you work security. What- ever. It was cold and getting colder. Yeah, he’d duck inside for a bit later, just inside the door. At least he’d be out of the wind. Mitch noticed the Grand Am’s misguided owner was heading his way. Looked like he ended up parking across the street. Why couldn’t he have just done that in the first place? “Hey, buddy. You OK?” “Yes, sir. Sorry about that.” AARON BARNES was the last guy left on the tour bus tonight, which wasn’t unusual. The Abbott brothers, Darrell and Vinnie Paul, hall-of-fame hell-raisers for more than two decades, liked to be out among the fans, buying shots and posing for photos. 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page ix INTRODUCTION – ix Barnes had been with them almost the entire time. The only thing the Abbotts, and Darrell in particular, liked better than having a good time was making sure everyone else had a good time, too—whether they wanted to or not. It was a few minutes after 10 P.M., and the show was about to start. Then there would be an after-party, because there was always an after-party, and Barnes wouldn’t be alone again until he hit the sack, whenever that happened. Definitely wouldn’t be for hours. There wasn’t much time to enjoy this rare moment of solitude, but no one really got into the music business for that anyway. It was time to go to work; Barnes, the band’s sound engineer, was needed inside. He stepped off the bus, locking the door behind him, and turned into the face of a muscle-bound man in a Colum- bus Blue Jackets jersey with a hooded sweatshirt underneath. He was bald, or close to it anyway, and anxious about something. The Columbus Blue Jackets fan wanted to know if the Abbotts were still on the bus, or if they’d already made their way inside the club. Barnes wasn’t surprised by the question. People always wanted to hang out with the brothers, before and after the show, and they were rarely turned away. That wasn’t exactly standard op- erating procedure with most bands, but it was in the Abbott camp. Barnes told him the brothers were already backstage, preparing for the night’s gig. He shrugged off the missed opportunity, a los- ing lottery ticket bought with a dollar he found in the street. “See you inside,” the big man said, and walked away. LIKE MOST rock-show audiences, the crowd that night was acting as a human motion detector. Any hint of action onstage 0306815249-Crain.qxd:Layout 1 3/16/09 10:58 AM Page x x – INTRODUCTION brought forth a chorus of whoooos and/or chants of the band’s name, each syllable separated by an exclamation point: Da! Mage! Plan! Even though it was only tour manager Chris Paluska arranging water bottles on the drum riser, or security chief Jef- frey “Mayhem” Thompson crossing from one side to the other to set up the band’s ever-present video camera.