Anvil!: The Story of Anvil

Anvil!: The Story of Anvil

Language: English

Pages: 320

ISBN: 1439176663

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


In the early seventies, when Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath ruled the world, Steve “Lips” Kudlow and Robb Reiner, two young Jewish boys from the northern suburbs of Toronto, vowed to rock together forever. A decade later, their band Anvil released one of the heaviest records in music history, Metal on Metal, which influenced a whole musical generation, including the world-dominating bands Metallica, Slayer, and Anthrax. Yet while these bands went on to sell millions of records, Anvil slipped straight into obscurity.

Was it too much sex and drugs and not enough rock ‘n’ roll? Was it the menagerie of pets that accompanied them on tour? Their uncanny knack for setting themselves on fire whenever a record company executive was watching? Now, almost thirty years later, like a real-life Spinal Tap, these unlikely musical heroes are still rocking, and still chasing their dream. Written in their own words, Anvil: The Story of Anvil charts the rise, fall, and eventual triumph of two men whose indestructible friendship, talent, and determination took them on a unique journey in the world of rock. A bittersweet and frequently hilarious hymn to the human spirit, played loud in power chords, it is a story of true brotherly love, living the dream, and never giving up.

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few years earlier, he didn't look well. As we made our way to the Spectrum stage, their tour manager took us aside. 'Tonight it's no thirty-five-minute set. You're playing for an hour and a half.' 'What?' Lips was freaking out. Nearly twenty thousand Aerosmith fans were waiting to see their idols. They'd tolerate us for half an hour at most, but then the trouble would start. 'An hour and a half? You must be fucking joking.' The tour manager said Tyler was in a bad way because of his

the oldest concert theatres in America. Before the show, he came up with another of his weird requests. 'OK, guys. I want to get a picture of you throwing the anvil around the stage.' That sounded OK. Lips would be the one who had to do it and he was fine with it. 'OK. Beautiful. I'll do it. No problem.' A couple of hours later, we were on stage and had finished 'Bondage', the last song in the set. From behind my drums I watched as Lips grabbed the anvil from the front of the drum riser,

single one of those days, someone tried to entice or coax me into smoking crack. And every day I resisted. Upstairs, the place was chaotic, filthy and depraved as a continuous stream of crack-users came, got high and crashed out. Downstairs it was clean, peaceful and ordered. When I finished the painting, I was doubly proud of creating work in such extreme surroundings and of proving to myself that I didn't need to lose myself in hard drugs to cope with my father's death. It was a way of saying

were needed. Now that Dad was gone I wanted to prove something to myself. In the days after Dad's death, I decided that I was going to make a speech at his funeral. The speech was quite short, a simple remembrance of some of the things my father used to do, but preparing it made me think over our relationship. Dad wasn't an easy man. He had a very direct manner that made it difficult to cry on his shoulder when things didn't go to plan. He made his feelings clear when I moved in too young with

cream?' 'Yeah.' 'Go to work.' That's the kind of guy he was. Sometimes he felt like being generous, but I knew not to ask him, so when he asked if I needed a car, I knew what to say. 'I don't know. I think I'm OK.' 'Whaddya mean you don't need a car? I'm gonna sell your mother's car. Why don't you take it?' 'Oh, OK.' Dealing with my dad and the rest of my family's idiosyncrasies was the perfect training ground for becoming the lead vocalist of Anvil. Negotiating my family prepared me for

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