Number 9 - The Great Southern Trendkill by Pantera

 Number 9: The Great Southern Trendkill by Pantera

A Texas-sized thrashing

Release: May 7th, 1996
Genre: Groove Metal
Favorite Tracks: Drag the Waters, The Great Southern Trendkill, Suicide Note, Pt. 2

 

Where I heard it: 

Starting with Metallica in 2008, I've had an overwhelming influx of new metal bands and subgenres to dive into throughout my life. I feel like metal has always been a genre I've had encompassing knowledge on, a natural progression after exhausting the fair majority of the classic rock catalog. In fact, metal has consistently maintained playtime in my listening rotation; it might even be my favorite genre. I've heard the heaviest of its offerings - Cannibal Corpse, Whitechapel, Meshuggah, Carbomb - and yet there's one band I find myself coming back to for a surge of adrenaline no others can provide: Pantera. They're a band I didn't really get into until after high school, but I've always been aware of their existence going back to my origins with metal. As a kid, I spent a lot of time listening to the radio for my musical consumption, and my preferred station was the hard rock haven of southern Colorado's 94.3 KILO. My budding knowledge of metal was nurtured into a full-blown lexicon here, introducing me to Pantera staples like Walk and Cowboys From Hell. For some reason, Pantera never found their way onto my radar until much later, after I'd discovered an astounding assortment of metal groups I adored. The Great Southern Trendkill was available to play in its entirety (sans Suicide Note, Pt. 1) as DLC on Rock Band 4, a modern rebirth for the franchise that I played religiously for years after release in 2015. I was living with my friend Paul in late 2017 when we acquired The Great Southern Trendkill and began chasing the leaderboards, myself on guitar and Paul on drums. We emulated two legends on their respective instruments: Dimebag Darrell and Vinnie Paul. Pantera began to grow on me as we played through the ten available songs from The Great Southern Trendkill, leading me to buy the vinyls for Vulgar Display of Power and Cowboys From Hell. I was officially diagnosed with headbanger's disease, constantly spinning these two albums in my room and rocking out to some of the finest metal tracks ever conceived. However, I never lost that association with The Great Southern Trendkill. When it came time to compile my top 100 albums, it turns out I still haven't gotten over how good this album is.

All the money in the fucking world
Couldn't buy me a second of trust
Or one ounce of faith in anything you're about
Fuck you all
Nothing is worth the sleep that I've lost
Apologies unacceptable now
A blistered revenge awaits in me
This is fucking loveless
~ War Nerve 

 

What to expect: 

Pantera has experienced one of the most unbelievable career turnarounds of any band, initially beginning their recording tenure in the early 80's as a glam rock band. They chose to pursue a heavier sound after the departure of original vocalist Terry Glaze in 1986, leading to the recruitment of Phil Anselmo, a grittier vocalist with high vocal range to boot. The band earned a recording contract while on a demanding tour schedule, and suddenly found themselves in the spotlight on the main stage. They knew this opportunity couldn't go to waste, dropping a bombshell with 1990's Cowboys From Hell. Pantera delivers an absolutely unhinged performance that's a far cry from their glam roots, cranking the amplifiers to maximum volume and eviscerating tracks to a pulp with an explosive fury that leaves listeners paralyzed in its wake of destruction. "Dimebag" Darell Abbott put himself on the map with furious fretwork that rivaled all-time greats like Eddie Van Halen. Phil Anselmo ditches any semblance of melody for an aggressive growl which bellows through the speakers with every roar. Pantera were the biggest sensation in metal throughout the 90's with mainstream hits like Vulgar Display of Power and Far Beyond Driven, but the demand took a toll on the band's spirited frontman. Anselmo dealt with chronic back pain caused by years of erratic behavior on stage, but when surgery was ruled out as an option due to his unrelenting work ethic, he turned to sedatives like heroin to keep the machine running. This decision brewed tension among Anselmo and the Abbott brothers, which reached a boiling point during the early stages of The Great Southern Trendkill, resulting in separate recording sessions between Anselmo in New Orleans and the rest of the band in their native Texas. Although Pantera did not see eye-to-eye personally, their vision for The Great Southern Trendkill was crystal clear in its development. The album features its heaviest material yet for Pantera, executed through Anselmo's vehement vocal style. Driven by the mania of his addiction and his wrath toward the outside world, the themes of songs like War Nerve and Suicide Note carry a menacing nihilism that holds potent discontent for life. Anselmo's wretched screams in the title track are completely convincing in translating the mental anguish he suffers in this moment. This demonic display is further propagated by the punishing chords and wailing solos of Dimebag Darrell, a savant of riff-writing that is sure to melt your face off in any scenario. His symphonic strategy of rhythmic pacing puts on a metal masterclass for his predecessors to study. Whether the tempo is trudging in 10's or blistering in Suicide Note, Pt. 2, Dimebag has a hook that is sure to keep your head bobbing in speechless amazement. His brother Vinnie has similarly been bit by the musical bug, commanding the attention with booming double bass and crashing cymbals that triumphantly march through sections of The Underground in America and 13 Steps to Nowhere. The weight of the group's collective force is crushing, building to each climax until it collapses in epic fashion. Pantera has always made its money on tight unison breakdowns, but those moments in The Great Southern Trendkill seem to leave a larger crater upon impact. Often overlooked in their discography, this album has left an indelible impression on me that I simply can't pass over.

 Why would you help anyone who doesn't want it
Doesn't need it, doesn't want your shit advice
When a mind's made up to go ahead and die?
What's done is done, so why cry?
Tortured history, addict of misery, this exposes me
For weakness is a magnet
Watch me do it
Don't you try to die like me
It's livid and it's lies
And makes graves descending down
~ Suicide Note, Pt. 2

 

Why it's my favorite: 

Music has the remarkable capability to influence our moods just by listening to it. Personally, music helps evoke a wide range of emotion based on my feelings at any given time. I have playlists I listen to when I'm particularly chipper, songs I turn to in moments of weakness, and certainly an array of bands to take my aggression out during drives home from stressful days at work. I wouldn't consider myself short-tempered, but I'm no stranger to anger. Life can be tough sometimes, and I tend to hold a resentful attitude toward those tribulations. My most reliable outlet comes through the form of music, blasting some of the most abhorrent things over my speakers to relieve some of that internal angst. My seething never seems to last long after I've stewed over it for an hour or two. The Great Southern Trendkill has been a go-to for a while when I think about albums that embody blind rage. There's two components for me that give the album that reputation, the first being the magnificence of Dimebag Darrell. I've repeatedly told friends when discussing Pantera that Dimebag took all of the good riffs in metal and horded them all to himself. His catchy compositions are the backbone of the album, laying blow after blow with sludgy breakdowns and impervious solos that obliterate your mind. The second piece is exceedingly grimmer: Phil Anselmo's descent into extreme drug abuse played an imperative part in making The Great Southern Trendkill so brooding. The subject matter of the album comes from such a dark place within the catacombs of Anselmo's brain. Pantera's content can be pretty sinister as it is, but songs like War Nerve and Suicide Note, Pt. 2 are downright demented in nature. Anselmo's tortuous, blood-curdling shouts are only made possible through excessive heroin use, producing a horrific gurgling that appears toward the end of extended screams. I liken this performance to a method actor, fully immersed in their role in order to enhance their effectiveness. I'm no advocate for hard drugs, but that is just...the most goddamn metal thing I've ever heard. Conversely, Anselmo exhibits impressive control of his lower register in ballads like Suicide Note, Pt. 1 and Floods, his resonant bass tones echoing throughout. The Great Southern Trendkill represents the shortcomings of humanity's sin, a scar that symbolizes the path that led to its creation. Pantera's entire discography is full of incredible music, but there's something truly evil about this album. Who am I to deny that inner wickedry that resides deep within me? The Great Southern Trendkill allows me to acknowledge that feeling when it arises, and helps me realize that these emotions are only temporary. Much like the legacy of Pantera, nothing lasts forever.