Neil the Tank goes mental to metal

I’ve known Neil for about 2 years now on a professional level and I have to say that he is one of the best coppers I know, coupled with the fact that he’s a really nice guy, very sharp and funny and one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. Which all goes right down the shitter when he’s drunk at a metal gig.

I had tickets for Stone Sour and Bullets & Octane at the Astoria. I had been waiting to see my two favourite bands for a while and was fucking excited about going. I was meant to be going with The Wilsotron from Cornwall but he had to bail at the last minute. I knew that Neil liked metal so asked him if he wanted to come and he agreed.

We met up about an hour before the doors opened and even tho there was already a queue forming we decided to go for a drink first so headed off down Charring Cross Rd and ended up in a cheap-shitty-pub. We ordered a couple of jugs of vodka red bull and sunk them in quick time and were onto our third when a rather homeless looking fella walks up to us and just starts talking utter, utter shit. He turns to me and asks me my name. Why the fuck do you want to know my name? I inquire of the bu. He looks at me and then turns to Neil and begins conversing with him. Another potential friend lost. Neil just stares at him open mouthed with a little bit of dribble erm, dribbling out the side of his mouth. I don’t even think he blinked. The hobo finishes his long rant and asks Neil what he thinks. Neil looks to me then back at the bum. Fuck off mate comes the well thought out reply. The homeless fuck looks set to cry but instead walks off to be homeless somewhere else.

We finish our drinks and then head off to the queue where we character assassinate everyone in the queue and non too subtly. By the time we reach the door we are laughing uncontrollably, mainly at the sign above it saying;

ASTORIA

7-11pm Stone Sour and Bullets & Octane

11-4 G.A.Y.

Fair enough then. Me and Neil postpone the decision to stay on for a dance afterwards til later.

The bouncers look at me and Neil and just wave us through shaking their heads. Maybe to do with the fact that Neil is 6’7″.

We get in and have a few more drinks. I explain to Neil that Bullets & Octane are one of my favourite bands and how much they fucking rock. Neil nods his head in anticipation of seeing this truly awesome live spectacle. He then shouts out really loudly to a guy walking past, “Alright mate, bit of a short cunt!?” to someone who is basically a midget. I promptly spit out my drink over a big nasty looking biker type. Apologies follow almost as quickly.

Bullets & Octane burst onto to stage a short while later. Gene Louis the lead singer swigging from a bottle of Jack Daniels looks the very epitome of cool and the whole floor turns into a mosh pit. Just very fucking cool. Punk rock baby. A few songs in and the crowd is hyped, bouncing along.

Louis has crowd in his palm.

Neil finishes drink.

Louis finishes song.

Neil looks at bottle.

Louis takes adoration.

Neil looks at Louis.

Louis stares out at adoring crowd.

Neil throws bottle.

Bottle hits Gene Louis of Bullets & Octane square in the face.

Neil allows himself small smile.

Graeme pisses himself.

Louis looks less than impressed.

Louis gets over it and starts a new song.

Neil nods out of respect.

We then enjoy the rest of the Bullets gig and get more wassted.

The main event follows soon after and as soon as Corey Taylor [lead singer of Stone Sour and Slipknot] walks out the place goes fucking mental and the whole club is a mosh pit. I’ve never seen this place like it. Neil drags me deep into the pit, obviously thinking that 5 metres from the stage is too far away and we proceed to basically ABH and GBH our way through about the first three Stone Sour songs. Fucking amazing.

I was at the time, as I am now really, a little unfit and I flag quickly. Trouble is there is no way out. I ask Neil for advice. He tells me to hang on. He then bends down and picks me up and I get crowd surfed for about a minute before going to the front of the crowd and out into the welcoming arms of security who hug me to safety. I feel like a baby.

I wander to the side of the crowd and watch the gig from the relative safety there. I glance across and it’s pretty easy to see Neil as he’s so tall. He’s standing there like a fucking giant in his white vest. But wait a minute, what’s this? Neil is obviously feeling a bit warm and is taking his vest off. Trouble is, it seems is that Neil couldn’t be arsed to wait the 2 seconds to take it off over his head, so has decided to rip it open like he’s the fucking hulk.

Corey Taylor finishes song.

Neil is topless.

Taylor soaks up the applause.

Neil looks at vest.

Taylor asks the crowd how they are.

Neil looks at Corey.

Neil throws vest at Corey.

Corey attempts to say something but is severely impaired by face-full of sweaty Neil vest.

Neil allows himself small smile.

Corey removes vest and tells Neil he can have it back.

Neil stands defiantly.

Corey throws Neil vest.

Neil throws it back.

Corey has face full of vest for second time that evening.

Neil allows himself small smile.

Corey pulls down pants and trousers and proceeds to wipe his arse with vest-of-Neil.

Neil gives a look of “yes, and what now then mate?”

Corey throws back vest-of-Neil.

Neil side steps and vest is consumed by mad Stone Sour/Slpiknot fans desperate for a piece of ass covered vest-of-Neil.

Gig continues.

The gig finished and I wandered outside to await the vestless Neil. As I am waiting a small fight begins in front of me. Neil turns up. Picks both of them up and tells them to calm down we’re all here for some fun. The fight stops as the two brawlers can’t quite believe that one man has just picked up two fighting men and told them to calm down. I am by this stage shocked by nothing that this man is doing.

We then wander off towards the tube. We part ways but not before Neil gives me one of Stone Sour’s drum sticks. I decide not to ask.

All words by G.