BEWARE OF THE SEPULTURA BUCKET

One of the traditions held dear to the Sepultura camp, in the 90's was the birthday bucket! This concoction was as loved as it was reviled. One would sweat in misery as the big day approached...what unGodly mix would be projectile vomited on your Fresh Prince of BelAir Head this year?

The bucket started out innocently enough, one tour. Just a slimy batch of leftovers and old half drank beers, jellied in whatever container was available for demolition. As the tours passed by and the fun increased, the bucket began to age and I wouldn't say gracefully!

Paulo Bill and Nino

Me, Bill the driver and Nino

One year, in Italy, Paulo's birthday bash popped up on the calendar. We were nestling ourselves in, on a long forgotten beach village, on the northern coast of Italy, when we decided to get to work on the bucket. It was time for our driver, Bill, to take a 10 hour break, anyway. Plenty of reasons for some fun!

One thing lead to another. We romped through the village for a bit, visiting some local bars. The sight of my green hair was too much for the local Grammys. Two different Grandmas approached me and crossed, muttering something.... When I caught myself grabbing a one piece, old fashioned, light blue, butt flap buttoned, men's underware off a clothesline strung across a balcony, I decided it was time to head for the sanctuary of the bus.

When everyone regrouped, the bucket came out of nowhere. The recent German tour had left us with an excess of mustard, a very recommended bucket ingredient.  

 
This was quite tame, and in future years the bucket received cigarette butts, a bit of spit and even a drop or two of the yellow snow substance. The most sanitary bucket I ever saw was Zyon's one year bucket. It was a tiny little cup-bucket meant to dump a chubby pink toe in! And in Texas, the award for best bucket stampede ever, as I walked into a dressing room holding Zyon, at the precise time the bucket was sloughing about and a herd of laughing band and crew stormed out like a herd of Brahma Bulls!

The bucket tradition was retired on one of the stairs of Max's career. In all of our 'bucket memory dialog,' it will always be accompanied with a smile and a "phew.'

Class dismissed...

MOTORHEAD CHRISTMAS METAL MEETING...'91

Every year at Christmas, Motorhead would put on festivals in Germany for the fans to rage at. Normally at this time, there were very few shows going on, so the Christmas shows were packed with kids. Done with Christmas and looking for action, this was the place to go!

Rainer Haensel was the promoter of these shows. He was super cool and always wore this badass jean jacket given to him by Leslie West of the band, Mountain. His production manager was named Schlanky; you could go to him for anything and he would sort you out. Shizzle was organized!! These two G's had it together!

Rainer Haensel and Schlanky

There was a lot of camaraderie among the crew and all the bands on the tour....Motorhead, Kreator, Sepultura, Morbid Angel and others. Every day was one big party!

Silvio Golfetti was Andreas Kisser's replacement, when Andreas broke his arm in a jet ski accident in Brazil, shortly before the tour was to begin. He was in the band, Korzus, from Sao Paulo, Brazil. HE even looked similar to Andreas and could shred like a maniac!

Max and Iggor met Korzus in Sap Paulo in 1983. They went to the band practice, where Korzus serenaded them with a bunch of Slayer covers. It was very impressive and they played just like the originals. A month later, they heard Zema, the drummer hung himself and committed suicide. It was shocking! Korzus went on to record a compilation called SP Metal. Korzus is still a band today and opened for Soulfly recently in Brazil.

Horns Up to Motorhead!! We all love Lemmy and Co. The world of Metal wouldn't be the same without them!!

Class dismissed.....

DO NOT JETSKI IF YOU HAVE BEEN DRINKING...101

In the early 1990's just a short time before I had Sepultura booked to play on the Motorhead Christmas festivals in Germany, Andreas Kisser, guitarist of Sepultura, had a most unfortunate accident. He was having an extreme bit of fun when he decided to head into the dark waters off the coast of Brazil, on a galloping jet ski. As luck would have it, his jet ski got plowed by a wave and the jet ski crashed onto his arm, snapping it in half!!

It was no small miracle that Andreas was able to maneuver his way near enough to shore, to attract attention and help!! He did though, and that was his first case of good luck.

His next dose was being taken to a hospital that had one of the finest doctors for treatment of broken limbs. He had just graduated from the School of Inspector Gadget, in Venice, Italy. In no time at all, Dr. constructed an erector set in Andreas' arm that would align and heal the bone so it would be strong and straight, once healed.

The only bad misfortune was Andreas' arm was so sore and swollen, he was unable to play the Motorhead dates. We enlisted our friend Silvio, guitarist of Korsus, and continued the Sepultura domination. Andreas healed quickly and before you knew it, he was back on the road, raging on stage with his very Metal arm solidifier!!

Me and Phil Campbell of Motorhead

Silvio from Korzus

Class dismissed....

TOO MUCH SPACECAKE IS BAD...101

Thanks to the hilarious Cheech and Chong movies, many people have dreamt of traveling to Holland to sample the local coffeeshops' products. The art of sitting with a friend and legally enjoying the Holland greenery is one of the main attractions of Holland. It isn't all wooden shoes, tulips and Delft porcelain!

The legendary Dynamo Festival in Eindhoven, Holland was one of the first successful music festivals of the 1990's. It began in a tiny club; maybe holding 150 or less spectators and grew to the amazing number of 120,000+ Metalheads, moshing the days away, in giant fields!

Sacred Reich at Dynamo Festival

Sacred Reich

I had my dream fulfilled many times, with my bands Sacred Reich and Sepultura being on the bill and even had both bands playing on the same day! The festival presenters also organized small club gigs leading up to the big concerts. These shows created a thirst for the bands because the clubs and the surrounding streets would be packed with people straining to hear the tunes seeping out through cracks in the entry way..

Mordred band member

Death Angel!

One year, my birthday happened to be in Eindhoven.. While I spent the day selling merch under the stairs, in an alcove of the club, the crowd above me went wild in their Sepultura-mania. It was all cool; I always put my work first, before the party. After the show....now that was a different story.

Andreas and Max back stage

Iggor

My friend, who shall remain incognito, presented me with a large chocolate bundt cake. He said there was a surprise baked inside. We all wolfed the cake down, like it was aftershow pizza and took off to the next gig.

It wasn't long before we all realized there was definitely something different about this cake. When one of the chowhounds began projectile vomiting, I decided it was time to consult a doctor. I had to swerve around the planets and shooting stars surrounding me, as I accompanied my sick friend into the waiting room. Being a Dutch emergency room doctor, the medic knew instantly what the malady was...too much substance in the cake.

It took a couple hours to float back to Earth, but we all arrived unscathed! The moral of the story? Count your carbs? Beware of strangers bearing gifts? Or just...don't eat too much space cake!!!

Sepultura's crowd

Class dismissed.....

KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF THE COPS...101

• In the fall of 1995, a couple months after Igor was born, Max and me went to see Rage Against the Machine at a club in Phoenix, called The Grind. It was a big room in a very nice area of Phoenix, on Camelback Road.

• After the show, Max, Dana, our friends Mark Corona, Mouse and me split for our car, which was parked across the street in a mall parking lot. We must have been a sight...Max and I had no shoes on, loosing them in the club. I had cut-offs and a Dead Horse "Satan Kissed My Dog" shirt on, green hair blazing. A car came around the corner and almost hit us. We all gave them a big "F#@%! You!" To our surprise, the car flipped around in the street and pulled up next to Dana. Dana leaned towards the car slightly and said "What's up?"

  

  Mark in Jamaica at his home...

  Can you imagine our surprise when the jock got out with a metal bar and whacked Dana so hard on his arm, it flattened him to the ground! Next Mark got a crack on the side of his head that knocked him flat. I stood there screaming. Mouse was hauling ass to find reinforcement. Max was the next vicim. It took a good crack right across his back to stop him. The jock got back in the car and next....gun shots at us!!

• The car flipped around and zoomed off. Max jumped up and grabbed a brick from the construction zone in the middle of the street and flung it at the car. No luck for us though....the rock hit the window of a convertible stuffed with more jocks, that just happened to come around the corner. The shooters got away and the new jocks were heated because the rock had done a nice job of shattering the windshield of his shiny car. The driver was like "What the..." At this precise moment, I saw Max connect with the jock's jaw in one of the cleanest power punches I have ever witnessed!! The police just happened to fly around the corner at this time and boom...we were all arrested!!

• The officers let the shooters zoom off to the horizon; the jocks whined about the jaw slam and windshield; Max, Dana, Mark, and me all ended up in separate police cars. The police found the bullet hole in a parked car. Of course, with our looks, we were branded the culprits. THe road was blocked off with yellow tape. Everyone from The Grind was watching the commotion.

  

  
  

  

  
  

  After an hour and half of pleading with the police that we were the victims, they began to realize they had the wrong people in custody. They went car to car and told us they were letting us go. They came to my car and told me not to get wound up. I was free to go but the "big guy" (Max), was getting deported. Max had a green card but they did not care. Of course, this freaked out already-wound-up-enough-to-spin-loose Gloria.

• The very large officer let me out and what did the wildcat do? Why I body slammed him away from me so I could run to Max's car and tell him to call me collect when he got to the cell. This action was not so smart because 5 officers body-slammed me on the back of a police car and I was hauled into Max's car and we were taken to jail.

• Waking up in a holding cell with 20 other chicks who were in various states of sanity was quite an experience. I was a big attraction and officers kept viewing me through the big thick window of the cell. Yes, I was an animal in a zoo. Apparently, girls brawling in unstable mental states was no big deal compared to my hair, tatts and outfit. Fighting and cuddling were not on my agenda and I was thankful when I was released 15 hours later.

• Once home, Max and I collected Dana and Mark and went to the doctor for treatment. The wounds were serious. Dana could barely use his arm and Mark's noggin was as big as a watermelon. Max had a perfect imprint of the metal bar across his back.

• I went to court later, for assaulting a police officer. I didn't know at the time of my shove, that it was so serious. The judge was a fair judge and asked me why I pushed an officer in uniform. My reply? "I was mad!" The DA wanted me to get 30 days in jail, but the judge was FAIR. I got a fine of $100 and the charge cleared from my name. Max was never charged. Neither were the jocks who shot at us Metalheads.

This experience is memorialized in the Attitude video. Why do you think Dana was fighting the jock......???

Class dismissed....