Too many doses: The Rev’s cause of death is revealed

The world of modern metal was rocked at the end of last year when Avenged Sevenfold drummer Jimmy Sullivan, aka ‘The Rev’, was found dead at his home in Huntington Beach, California. It was my birthday when I heard and I, for one, was heartbroken.

It has been reported that on Wednesday June 9^th 2010 – 199 days since his death was announced – the band’s manager Larry Jacobson spoke to US magazine Rolling Stone following the publishing of the Orange County Coroner’s Office report.

The cause of his death on December 28th 2009 was labelled as ‘by natural causes,’ which remained a conclusion that many fans wouldn’t accept due to his painfully young age.

However according to toxicology tests released this week, the 28-year-old actually died of an accidental drug overdose, outlined as "acute polydrug intoxication due to combined effects of Oxycodone, Oxymorphone, Diazepam / Nordiazepam and ethanol." Oxycodone and Oxymorphone are both morphine-like drugs used to relieve severe pain and Diazepam – also known as Valium – is a tranquiliser used for anxiety and as a muscle relaxant. Ethanol is, as we all know from GCSE Science and fresher’s week, alcohol.

"To all of us who loved Jimmy, the only thing relevant about December 28 is that is the night we lost, too soon, a son, brother, friend and one of the most talented artists in the world," Jacobson told the magazine. "Every day, his parents and sisters, and his brothers in Avenged Sevenfold smile at the many memories they have of Jimmy and his fans around the world revel in the musical legacy he left them."

Jimmy had been playing drums since he was just five, and was known across his home state for being a ‘machine’ behind the kit. The five-piece had been best friends since early days of school. In a heart-wrenching finale to his tribute on the band’s website, Shadows said: “I love you Jimmy and I feel like the luckiest man in the world to have known you and spent 18

years of my life with you. Rest in Peace my friend.”

The organisers of this weekend's Download festival will be paying tribute to seven rock icons who have fallen in recent months. The Rev will be featured among them alongside Slipknot bassist Paul Gray who died suddenly last month and universal metal legend Ronnie James Dio who lost his battle with cancer, also last month.

Personally I believe Satan is worried Dimebag was getting bored. That’s some super group he formed down there now.

Avenged Sevenfold are set to play the US Uproar Tour this summer with Dream Theatre’s Mike Portnoy. The band has openly said it’ll be the hardest thing they’ll ever do and are making no decisions as to what comes next. For the fans, ‘Nightmare’ is next. July 27^th.

The Devil's Show: Avenged Sevenfold's 'Nightmare.'

Avenged Sevenfold return after two years and the recent death of their Drummer, Jimmy 'the Rev' Sullivan, with something very special indeed.

I was a spritely 15-year-old on my merry way home from school the first time I heard the Orange County five-piece. My portable CD player, somehow wedged into my trouser pocket, proudly displayed my copy of Kerrang!’s 2005 Awards album I got free with an issue that week. Among the tracks featured included Green Day’s ‘She’s a Rebel,’ Trivium’s ‘Pull Harder...’ and old school Lordi - before they were Eurovision champions, of course.

'Trashed and Scattered' was track 14, so it was almost an entire journey home before I heard it. Admittedly, seeing as this golden snippet featured on their third album City of Evil, I became a fan late. Having got hold of their sublime sophomore Waking the Fallen weeks later it soon became more of a dark infatuation than your average fanhood. A love for unpredictable double bass drums, raw growly vocals and sinister Bible-inspired lyrics that led me to the likes of Atreyu and Still Remains. I sat through countless free periods with my friends mimicking Shadows’ slur with unrelenting teen angst. I have done the same on an EasyJet flight to France and an open top boat on Lake Titicaca in South America. In the wake of the ‘indefinite hiatus’ of Blink 182 in 2005, these two albums saved my tears and changed my life. Well, diverted me from my inevitable plunge into pre-Blink depression and a devotion to +44 and, God forbid, Angels and Airwaves.

Waking the Fallen still remains my favourite album of all time. But on first hearing Avenged Sevenfold’s latest effort, ‘Nightmare’, it could be robbed of its title of my favourite Sevenfold moment. Can an album be judged on the strength of its first track? It’s been four weeks since I first heard ‘Nightmare’ and it’s likely I’ve given it a listen at least once a day since. Naturally, you would expect to tire but with each listen it seems to – somehow – grow on me even more.

The news of sticksman Jimmy Sullivan’s death at the end of 2009 had left me believing that was it for them as a band. It was my birthday and I was devastated. Childhood friends that they are, they’ve always raved about Avenged Sevenfold being more of a brotherhood than a band and were undoubtedly shaken by his sudden death. But, with the help of Dream Theatre’s Mike Portnoy, the boys found the willpower to lay down the drums and finish the album Jimmy had written in the months before. The album art says it all. It is Jimmy’s skull and the finished work will no doubt become his legacy. Whether they will continue as a band after a summer touring with Portnoy is uncertain.

So, the new song. It begins with what sounds like a music box. It could be a serenade, a sleep aid before the ‘Nightmare’ begins and develops smoothly with an orchestral backing. After a classic Gates into and rolling drums – perfected by The Rev’s hero, the Dream Theatre legend himself – Shadows screams “Nightmare! Now your nightmare comes to life...” which leads an unexpected groove laden verse. The frontman opens it with a sneer of “Dragged ya down below, down to the devil’s show to be his guest forever...” and I count three different vocal tones within the first minute, with fine examples of question and answer and mind blowing speed into the chorus. Seriously, they do what they do very, very well.

It takes a few listens to hone into the smooth piano through the chorus which houses another example of a crafted melody which fits Shadows voice perfectly. The midsection is a song itself. At just over six minutes it has everything Sevenfold have made their own – the classic riffs, the aggressive imaginative lyrics and the unpredictability. It ends with “Your tragic fate is looking so clear. It’s your fuckin’ nightmare” and the hint of it leading into something explosive.

Whatever the thought process behind it, the suggestions made through the single, the album art and the album’s content show A7X have clearly dabbled with the idea of a concept album on their fifth outing. They say it’s the darkest record yet, both lyrically and musically, and deals with the pain of losing their best friend.

The bottom line is it’s one of those songs you wish you’d written. It may be under the hardest circumstances but if the rest of the album follows in suit this could be their greatest achievement yet, their sound still developing and improving at every turn. I, for one, cannot wait.

Avenged Sevenfold’s ‘Nightmare’ is out on July 27th 2010. The single of the same name is out now. If you are at all intrigued I suggest checking it out.

'Nightmare' (Single)
'Trashed and Scattered' (from City of Evil)
'Second Heartbeat' (from Waking the Fallen)

Bournemouth Ink - 29th and 30th July, 2010.

The buzz of the needle at every corner takes a bit of getting used to. At first it’s like a prominent tinnitus. Then after a while it becomes an accepted background noise. But then as you turn corners, weaving through the crowds of people, and catch the tiniest glimpse of a tattooist and their subject hard at work, or the folders of drawings and past proud efforts, the drone becomes an excitable prospect and more of a symbol of where the once taboo hobby sits in the world today.

I went to Bournemouth Ink last weekend with my Journo friend Joanna Stass. With every intention of getting inked myself, mind you. I didn’t. But I did meet some utterly fascinating people with their own unique experiences and relationships with the art. Tattooists who have dedicated 10 or 20 years to it. Ordinary people who have covered themselves in ink to stand out from the crowd or to embrace the idea that you can change your image, your confidence and catch the eye of a passersby.

When you see so many tattoos in one place and the pride strewn across the faces of their owners it really becomes apparent that tattooing has developed into something more than the ‘cutthroat industry’ that some tattooists speak of - an image that is certainly conjured in the minds of those who are ignorant and cynical of the two thousand year old tradition. Tattoos are traditionally associated with convicts, bikers and gang culture. But today individuals from all walks of life are delving into the world of tattoo for their own personal reasons. And it is humbling to meet so many of them who strike you as interesting, friendly and down to earth human beings who are simply making the most of what life has to offer. One man tells me the symbols on his arm represent his wife and children. To anyone who doesn’t know, it’s simply an intriguing pattern on his forearm. An apprentice tattooist tells us that the portrait of Steve Carell sits proudly on his thigh because he’s ‘a huge fan – it was an obvious choice.’ It makes everyone who walks by stop and gasp in awe. Whatever your reason for having a tattoo, nothing makes you more unique than sporting a drawing or script that you believe makes you different to everyone else and ultimately changes your life.

Tattooing is an art. Art is made to be flaunted and on display to the world and no one here is shy of the camera. I get grins and poses at every turn from both tattooists and tattooees and propositions to return later to see the finished piece. An elaborate puffin painting, a Spiderman still, a hyper realistic picture of glamour model Vikki Blows. Speaking to those receiving tattoos only accentuates the excitement that surrounds such a long term commitment and you can almost smell the pump of adrenaline.

The end of both nights brings a catwalk for ink. Cheers echo around the auditorium, a video camera projects the art on a screen as onlookers ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ and for a split second each individual - that adrenaline still pumping from the day’s inking – becomes the focus of every eye in the room. Pride. I have never before appreciated contemporary art so much and have never had such an adoration for the work an artist of this kind does. Local tattoo hero Steve A said to us: “I could pick any medium to do my art on but having human beings is the most beautiful thing. Everyone is different and everyone has a unique concept to work on.” The evidence stands on the stage before hundreds of applauding enthusiasts.













The art of tattoo is evolving with the birth of hyper-realism and graffiti culture. It brings the pictures artists draw to life and adds a pride that cannot be found in a piece of art that hangs in a gallery. For the tattooed it allows a flaunting of individualism and, during a weekend like this, allows those involved in the tradition to become a family.

I will never look at a tattoo in the same way again.

Watch the video for an insight into our experience at Bournemouth Ink 2010. We caught up with Legendary tattooists Dan Gold, Steve A and Phil Kyle and upcoming artist Rich Simmons, who works for urban designers Graffiti Kings.

Check out what happened when Jo met up with London Ink legend Dan Gold.

BINK in Pictures- The highlights of the weekend

Slam Dunk- 02 Academy, Bournemouth, Friday May 28th. Set Your Goals, Out of Sight, Hit the Lights, Four Year Strong, New Found Glory.

Independent music label Slam Dunk sports an annual in-door festival of the same name to showcase their clients and play host to larger bands from all over. The festival has seen Fall Out Boy, Reel Big Fish and Paramore on its stages during its 4 years and this year was as big as ever. Its sister show – with bands from the festival’s main stage - stopped by Bournemouth’s 02 Academy this weekend to give fans of the scene a taste of what’s to come. And it started on a very good note.

Unlikely openers Set Your Goals have somewhere else to be so get the night underway, much to everyone’s confusion and the disappointment of those who are running late.
These guys are not a band to be judged on appearances as what you see, at times, resembles a hyper group of mathletes fronted by an uncool, white Keenan and Kel.Following a command to form a circle pit from Kel, Keenan quickly steps in with a terrified look and a cutthroat signal - a sign that circle pits are not allowed. You could almost imagine his counterpart declaring “aaaaah, here it goes...” That was not very METAL. Then, pop punk isn’t particularly metal. If you’re paying more attention to the music then you’d notice the pair works well with contrasting vocals and as a unit they are tight and seem flawless, full of an infectious energy and somewhat daring confidence which makes them a difficult act to follow.

Unfortunately those with the task of following are fresh faced four piece Out Of Sight. There’s nothing too wrong with what they’ve written but it’s certainly not original, no one knows who they are and no one is here to find out. Seeing as they were opening main stage at the festival this weekend you feel some pity that they have to beg the crowd to sing back lyrics that just aren’t as inventive or anthem worthy as they think.

“Who’s drunk yet?” bassist Sean slurs. Clearly him. Given that it is only 6.30pm and a great deal of the crowd are still in secondary school, only a handful of punters respond – which is awkward. It’s a shame they’re not as good as they think they are and no amount of sex faces or pleading for crowd participation is going to change that. A highlight comes mid-set when they attempt a cover of Black Eyed Peas ‘I Gotta Feeling’ which, admittedly, stirs some excitement. And, yes, it is going to be a good night. But when Journey gets a better sing along during the following sound check it’s apparent that it really is Out of Sight... out of mind. Chortle.

The 400 capacity venue is still filling up when Hit the Lights hit the stage. With copius amounts of energy and a guitarist who could pass off as a possessed Moss from the IT Crowd, they sound more like New Found Glory than New Found Glory. Well, almost. This is no accident as NFG spawned this scene and, although theirs is not an entirely original sound, those watching and listening start bouncing and singing and take to them well. The response from the crowd gives the Journey record a run for its money and its volume during the frequent breakdowns invites goosebumps every time.
It is obvious from the continuing roar of the crowd that Four Year Strong are as popular as the headliners and, if one didn’t know better, one would think everyone was here to see them. As far as their sound goes they’re not what the night has dictated so far and boast an aggression that has left a whole in what has come before. If you can look past the fact that front man Dan O'Connor looks like an angry saliva beleaguered Brian Blessed, who’s Gruff vocals are a welcome break from the whine of the pop punk, then what stands before you is a vat of sounds combining classic Rise Against with the hardcore hooks of Story of the Year. With no shortage of material and songs with intriguing titles such as ‘What the Hell is a Gigawatt?’ and ‘Prepare To Be Digitally Manipulated,’ Four year strong are definitely one to watch.

This year marks the 10th anniversary of their self titled release and, as they bound onto the stage to the sounds of Miley Cyrus’ ‘Party in the Usa,’ New Found Glory bring a sense of completion to the bill tonight. “We are going to play a shit load of songs for you!” front man Jordan Pundik beams. And they do so with the flare and precision that they’re known for, the crowd following every word and every song being met with a colossal scream. Classics ‘Hit or Miss,’ ‘Catalyst,’ ‘Dressed to Kill’ and ‘My Friends over you,’ as well as an excellent cover of ‘Kiss Me,’ are highlights and it hits home just how much NYG have brought to the scene when guitarist Chad Gilbert thanks the fans for their support and promises that “no matter how uncool we may be, New Found Glory will always be there for you.” Judging by the energy in here tonight, they are definitely still cool and - even after 10 years - show no signs of slowing down.

Oh and, let’s face it, everyone knows Hayley meant to send that picture to Chad. Lol.

Bullet For My Valentine- 'Fever' (2010)

1. "Your Betrayal"
2. "Fever"
3. "The Last Fight"
4. "A Place Where You Belong"
5. "Pleasure and Pain"
6. "Alone"
7. "Breaking Out, Breaking Down"
8. "Bittersweet Memories"
9. "Dignity"
10. "Begging for Mercy"
11. "Pretty On the Outside"

A group who have won music awards both on their arrival to the scene and for an early single, Bullet For My Valentine have played festivals across Europe and have already conquered America. They had nothing to prove when it came to writing new stuff except if they could deliver a devoted fan base something special. Having read Kerrang!’s review beforehand and even a certain amount of acclaim from BBC Music, I was expecting to praise every last inch of their third album ‘Fever.’ To be honest- having been a fan since their 2004 EP- I was a little disappointed.

Starting, logically, from the start, Fever sounds immense. The rolling military-like beats and axe layers of opening track ‘Your Betrayal’ get the double peddles tapping and pulse racing. The whole thing works immaculately, especially front man Matt Tuck’s experimental invasive whisper. The louder the midsection is, the better it gets. Despite questionable lyrics “come here you naughty girl, you’re such a tease” title track ‘Fever’ is as gripping as it needs to be, although without a growl it lacks any sort of bullet-esque punch. Lead UK single ‘The Last Fight’ is as perfect as they come and, with a hook that will imbed on first listen, it’s easy to see why it‘s a single. Basing the album on the hugely promising first three tracks – you can’t argue the quality. Unfortunately it rapidly fires downhill as the structure of galloping guitars and clichéd violence-driven lyrics tires and what follows feels awfully like a selection of b-sides.

The biggest issue for me are the vocals. Remembering Tuck recently had surgery on his throat his effort is commendable and his voice has never sounded better. But there is an obvious hole where the hard scream used to lie. It’s a new direction in its own right and, in a way, it would be wrong to criticise the new work on just this fact. But that's very difficult. The first taster you get of any bullet-esque hard vocals is the penultimate track ‘Begging For Mercy,’ but is it worth waiting 10 songs for?

The bulk of the song writing hasn’t changed and its clear Bullet For My Valentine have honed in their sound, taking the best of both of their previous efforts. As with before, penning lyrics isn’t a notable strength and tracks are often let down by cheesy crones of ‘I never said goodbye, can’t even tell you why’ (‘A Place Where You Belong’) or ‘I still want you, it’s easy to see... but guess what honey, you’re not that good for me’ (‘Bittersweet Memories.’) The latter has one of those ballad-like chorus’ that will no doubt warrant a decent lighter-worthy singalong. But remove the vaguely hard-rock guitar and obvious Bullet charm and it would resemble an S Club 7 single. A poor one, at that.

There are positives. ‘Pleasure and Pain’ and ‘Alone’ boast what are arguably amongst the finest solos Bullet have written and at the pace you’d want from modern metalcore. On a side note, I can’t get over how much the fading synths in ‘Alone’ sound like Still Remains' 'The Serpant'. The production is fantastic and, like I said before, the vocals are flawless. The first time I heard the final track ‘Pretty On The Outside,’ I hit to play it again. It’s original and gritty and provides relief that ‘Fever’ both begins and ends well.

But they’ve hailed ‘Fever’ as their best album yet and, for me, in terms of excitement and originality, it doesn’t even touch their somewhat sub-par sophomore album ‘Scream, Aim, Fire.’

It’s pure and simple critical negativity to bitch about the vocals and lyrics and it’s so easy to complain. I couldn’t write songs of the calibre they do. But it’s not my job to, it’s theirs and they’ve proved they’re capable of so much more and I loved the brutality they created before. It’s true to say that just three albums in, Bullet For My Valentine are one of those bands who write stand out beauties and simply crap fillers. You could create the perfect metal album by combining the likes of ‘4 Words’, ‘The Poison’, ‘Waking the Demon,’ and even ‘The Last Fight’ from the latest effort.

When an advert for a folk singer on Spotify interrupts you mid album and you find yourself distracted by the floating sounds of a eukalale- you know the metalcore album you’ve waited 2 years for just isn’t doing it for you. For the critical appeal of Fever it’s also awkward that a breath of fresh air comes as the final track merges into the first track of 2008’s ‘Scream, Aim, Fire.’

The lack of aggression, like an actual fever, leads to tediousness and discomfort and you may rather overdose on Lemsip and pass out than endure the entire thing. Save yourself disappointment- download: ‘Your Betrayal’, ‘Fever’, ‘The Last Fight,’ ‘Begging For Mercy’ and ‘Pretty On The Outside.’ As cynical as it is, you wouldn’t miss much if you avoided the rest.If you’re at all interested in the band, their first and by far most impressive album ‘The Poison’ is the best way to go. Lie down with BIG headphones, immerse yourself in the guitar flow intro and then experience ‘Her Voice Resides’ in all its raw growly glory.

Just don’t let anyone catch you air screaming, shredding and double-peddling.

Nothin' But A Good Time.

A wonderous insight into my teen years
put to a happy tune.



All footage filmed by Kyle Reed or my friends.
Song: Reel Big Fish- Nothing But A Good Time (Fame, Fortune and Fornication, 2009)

Creating writing? That's so old school.

It's been a while since I've posted anything on here. What with the ridiculous law revision cramming of the soon to be revised ridiculously crammed law unit. Bleurgh.

I took a few precious moments out of my revision to delve into the relics of a document folder labelled 'school,' in which i found an abundance of essays and rehashed Wikipedia pages fobbed off as 'research'. I really should have erased these years ago but somehow my obsessive compulsions scream at me that sonnets about my friends 'being attracted to men' and guides on how to PEE must live as long as I.

Among such things I also found a file titled Johnny's Johnny. I used to thrive on writing creatively in any way I could and somewhere in my room hidden from humans are the remains of crude half finished Goosebumps books and spy novellas. Well, they used to exist. I looked most forward to the English classes where I had to generate something original and something inspired. Johnny's Johnny was my answer to the brief of GCSE Creative Writing and one of my first and favourite inventions.

It's no Bloody Chamber, but to cut a long 'you had to have been there' story short, here is my somewhat dramatic account of when my best friend and I took some guys clothes while he showered.

Johnny's Johnny: Beast In The Showers

I waited. The cracked window rattled in the wind. I knew it would break, any second. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off. The whole cabin shook. The weather outside was insane. However, the eight-hour hike had knocked all strength out of me.

Everyone was upstairs, watching some b-rated movie on channel three hundred and something. This place sucked. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. ‘The Lakes,’ they called it. Same difference. Jim and Tom filled the silence with immature laughter, the dirty magazines controlling their minds. Pathetic. No, I preferred to waste away on my bunk.

He was in the shower. Secretly, I hoped he would drown in his own smugness. He’d made this trip hell. He was known as Johnny and was pure evil. When we’d reached our goal, The Old Man, highest mountain peak in the area, I could have finished him off. I didn’t, so instead I feared for my life.

Another giggle. I was getting tired of this. “You guys up for a laugh?” I said, obviously disturbing an important pastime of theirs. Like they could laugh any more than they were anyway.

“What like?” Tom asked, in a curious tone. I had their attention. I told them my plan. Told them it would be easy. They were just as much afraid as I was, but I didn’t show it.

The lock on the cubicle door slid away with ease, completing my flick knife’s task. He sang a deadly chorus of poison as he washed his filthy self. It sounds over the top, but he’s not human.
“Look!” Jimmy whispered, shaking like a pager. Johnny’s boxers were in view. They were his spies. Tom reached in; aware he would lose his life at any moment. There it was. In a flash, the shower room was empty, Jimmy plunging it into darkness with the click of the switch. It was empty, except for the trapped beast in the shower. A howl of fury escaped as I leapt to my bunk.

It seemed like forever before he appeared; dripping with the acid he had washed in. That’s when I saw it. That’s when he infected me with his evil. That memory; a life sentence. Jimmy was first, his forehead being slapped into the future. I could feel his pain. He was on his knees, begging for mercy. Still, Johnny screamed with pleasure. I wanted to help but was frozen by my fear. I fell down the side of my bunk, now trapped between it and the wall. This was the end. I had no chance. Tom, protesting his innocence, joined alliance with the evil. Together they taunted me, trying to capture my soul. I resisted, struggling to get under the bed. But it was too late. Johnny crushed my chest with his monster size 12’s, forcing my gaze towards his weapon. It ruined me. From underneath the bed I could see Jimmy. He wasn’t moving. I wished to hear him laugh. I couldn’t call his name. I couldn’t breathe. I could only hear the beast’s howl of satisfaction; could only see him step off me, cursing me one last time.

I thought the movie would end soon. But it didn’t. They didn’t save me. I’d seen it. I’d seen what no male teenager should ever see. So a bomb did go off. It was nuclear, left my mind paralysed. It will leave my children with horrible defects. I should be thankful I have lived to see them. But I am scarred with this permanent image. The image of evil; Johnny’s Johnny.

Move over, R.L.Stine.