Of the recent Oscars, I had only seen five of the best picture nominees. I liked them all for completely different reasons. I think it is somewhat important to reflect upon these movies which garnered such critical acclaim and quite a few millions gross at the box office. Whilst I did enjoy them all, there was only one movie in 2010 that has really stuck with me and resonates to this moment. And it wasn’t even released in 2010. Anvil – The Story of Anvil is the best music documentary ever made. And this is coming from someone who lives and breathes Metallica, and adored Some Kind of Monster. This Anvil movie is as powerful as SKOM but there is something unique and touching about its main stars that is hard to put a finger on. Maybe its the fact these guys as normal as Metallica’s members are and made to seem on SKOM but without the enormous bank accounts.

Anvil began in the late ’70s with Steve “Lips” Kudlow as the lead axe-man and singer, Robb Reiner (the extra b means he is a badass drummer) and Glenn Five on bass. Kudlow and Reiner were featured heavily in the movie, and it chronicled their rise, fall and rise again. The amazing thing about the documentary is how this band touched and influenced so many others that ended up riding the wave of metal in the mainstream. When a movie has Lars Ulrich say “when Anvil burst on the scene it was like…fuck!” within its opening minutes, it is destined to be awesome. Their influences, as evidenced in the movie, spread from Lars’ Metallica to Anthrax (Scott Ian makes is mandatory appearence in yet another metal show), and even Slayer and Megadeth. It is heart-breaking to think that these four bands have recently embarked on a much anticipated and desired “big four” of trash metal shows across Europe and soon the USA. Despite the feelings of “oh poor Anvil” it would not be fair to begrudge the other four bands success due to the unfortunate fact that Anvil missed the wave.

Much like the Rolling Stones and even my beloved Metallica, Kudlow and Reiner both met in high school and shared a passion for music, in particular metal. This relationship has spanned well over thirty years, and the two have grown to be as close as brothers. This brings about the love of each other, support and respect, with equal parts brotherly fighting. During the movie you see Kudlow’s unwavering drive and determination for Anvil to succeed push him to saying things to Reiner that are emotionally charged to the point where they argue and fight. But it always ends in tears and hugs; much like me and my own brothers. It really connected with me seeing these guys who have so much love and respect for each other push through their petty bickerings (that have now became three decades long) and continue to be together. Its inspirational really.

The movie picks up after a brief introduction to the band and they appeared to be left at the bus stop of heavy metal’s drive into the mainstream. Kudlow was working an everyman job delivering food to high school cafeterias and Reiner was, well, I forget, but he was doing something similarly menial. The amazing thing about Kudlow was that he was still as passionate as ever; like a wide-eyed kid with the world in front of him ready to dominate. Yet, there was a sign of a stinging resentment and regret that it never happened. The movie followed their attempts at touring small town bars and clubs in Europe, metal’s favourite port in a storm. With an amazing build up that showed ill-planned train trips, planes missed and gigs with no crowd, the movie made me almost cry when they just kept going, failing, going and failing. The eventual triumph of a large crowd in Japan was brilliant. I actually cheered, as some tears welled in my eyes, when I saw the crowd. They loved them. Anvil had finally played an awesome show. They had finally had some recompense for their lifetime of work and dedication. It was a triumph of will and fuck, a triumph of honest people with a passion. Awesome.

It is interesting to note the Kudlow has since commented that the whole saga of Anvil is an example of what the music industry can do to people and also that if you are not fully switched on to the realities of such an environment you can be eaten up and shat out without a second glance. This is an important acknowledgement as in some ways he can see, and I reckon this is where the regret comes from, that they may have been able to handle things differently. Approach record labels and managers differently and present the Anvil package as something sellable as opposed to “something that needed to happen”. When the credits rolled as they rocked the venue in Japan, I had goosebumps. It felt like I had been invited into their world, saw their massive highs, deep lows, and eventual rebirth. A reincarnation if you will. They are now semi-regular on some of the massive European and US festivals, playing in front of a new breed of fans as well as some die-hards. Fantastic, so happy for them.

Do yourself a fucking favour and listen to “Metal on Metal” and crank that riff up until your ears bleed and tell me that is not one of the grooviest, heaviest and most kickass riffs ever. What a story.

When was the last time you truly felt something? A moment [or collection of moments] so potent it was as if everything that came before it was merely an overture to something far greater; its limits would be impossible to define, the scale was without any context. I hope that you have felt it, because I have. Some people devote their spare time to exploring religion, spending time with friends or even whiling away the minutes hiding behind zeroes and ones. I tend to devote my time to things I hold important – work, family, friends and Metallica. I made a promise to myself six years ago that I would see the latter in every city in this wide, vast and brown land. This promise came roaring back into my life early May this year when the news I harkened so long to hear finally burnt into my retinas, making a beeline directly to my core. This promise heralded what would become the genesis of my own creation story. How does one put into words that which is so personally significant it suffocates the fluency from my tongue, intoxicates the feelings within and carries me forward, holds my hand and tells me everything is going to be ok.

Memories are fleeting things that can grab grind and gorge on you to the point where reality begins to blur; snapping back in an instant when you least want it. It can fracture you, leave you feeling empty; a chasm that needs refilling but you simply cannot reach the remote control to hit rewind. It’s been close to three months since I last truly felt this something and the split second that the pang of melancholy and misery appears, it’s torched away by a searing fire of ferocious pride. And pride is an amazingly powerful energy. Those six years since I made that promise have changed me for better and worse, the ever constant knowledge within that I would never let myself down on this one. No, not this one. Of all things this would be the one thing I could feel most proud about that didn’t relate to my brothers, parents and friends.

I had my own personal pilgrimage in 2010, that spanned this continent, by foot, bus, train and air. Where Metallica landed, so to did I. Where they played, so to did I rejoice. Where they slept, I was within their spheres. Thirteen shows were spread out from September 15 at Rod Laver Arena here in Melbourne, and ending at the same place on November 21. Each show had its own special flavour, its own memorable moment of madness and Morgan. I am sitting here looking at something of a pile of my life. Tickets, booking information, leftover train tickets, notes, photos. All of these things are the tangible triggers that when I hold them I am whisked back to moments in time that will never leave me.

I hope to be able to bring forth into this digital realm a taste of the adventure. It wont just be reports of the gigs, it will be the in betweens, the downtimes where I was able to reflect, regenerate and rejuvenate my soul. It wont happen quickly, as nothing seems to happen quickly on this site, and I do have a few things to share prior to delving back into the Morgs Magnetic 2010 tour. Humour me as I throw out these things; time is fleeting however there is plenty of it. Patience is a virtue, or so they say, but never pay full price for late pizza.