Requiem for a guitar god: remembering Dimebag Darrell Abbott
This is an article I did for work and mentioned on my TV segment, in memory of the late Dimebag Darrell Abbott, the revolutionary guitarist from Pantera: Requiem for a guitar god: remembering Dimebag Darrell Abbott (http://www.kuam.com/news/11879.aspx)
Also, check out the previous blog I wrote after learning of Dime's murder. Again, thoughts, prayers and condolences to the Abbott family, to Pantera, and to the millions of fans whose lives Dime's music and friendship touched.
Perhaps the ache I've been feeling for the past few days is exactly how my parents felt when John Lennon was slain or when Elvis died. Rarely have I been as directly affected by a person's passing as last Friday, when I got word about the untimely, cruel and tragic death of the revolutionary guitarist "Dimebag" Darrell Abbott from the Texas-based heavy metal band Pantera. He was senselessly shot and killed during a performance last week.
I've had few true heroes in my lifetime, and he was one. I hadn't been moved to tears after learning of the loss of a musician since former Ozzy Osbourne guitarist Randy Rhoads died in a plane crash in 1982.
I hurriedly rushed to my blog, fingers shaking as I typed, and containing the emotion wrote a simple sympathy note to his family and the millions of fans, titling it "The Day the Metal Died - RIP Dimebag Darrell". As a lifelong lover of metal music, it was my duty. And just as quickly, people flocked to read my thoughts and rapidly appended their own messages of sorrow - some angry, some sad, some confused, some just saying "RIP, Dimebag - I'll miss ya, bro."
Media reports recall that Abbott and his brother, drummer Vinnie Paul, were playing with their new band Damageplan in Columbus, Ohio on December 8, 2004, in a small club, when - allegedly - 25-year-old Nathan Gale, a former Marine and metal fanatic, stormed the stage and shot Darrell Abbott five times in the head. A total of four people were killed, and numerous others were injured before local police shot and killed Gale.
The news spread like wildfire and caused an entire industry predicated on its machismo to openly weep for the man so many looked up to, so many learned from, and so many were lucky to call friend. His musical brethren have come out in droves to support his family and band mates, offering their love, condolences, and prayers. Thousands of blog posts have been logged, message board and forum topics created, and tribute web pages created in his honor. The fact that musicians from all genres have made such heartfelt statements shows the true impact of the man's body of work.
Twice nominated for Grammys, Pantera in the early 1990's became the sole connection to the lost art of 80's speed metal music to a generation then obsessed with the self-pity, loathing and self-deprecating behavior propagated by grunge. And Abbott, Pantera's animated axe man, became the champion of headbangers worldwide. He'd constantly make reference to the band's inspirations, drawing from his knowledge about his predecessors and appreciation for history, paying homage to those he idolized growing up - Eddie Van Halen, AC/DC's Angus Young, Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page, Jimi Hendrix, Black Sabbath's Tony Iommi, Rhoads, Metallica's Kirk Hammett, ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons, and B.B. King among them.
Dime had the vision, innovative thinking and balsiness to apply unconventional methods of playing guitar at breakneck speeds with surgical precision to achieve a sound completely his own - one that was constantly emulated, but never quite duplicated. He'd combine techniques like unorthodox bending, multi-finger tapping and alternate tunings with technical effects like extreme distortion to create truly unique sounds that reflected the beautifully brutal quality of his band's music.
And despite having such vast technical ability and wide depth of knowledge, he was quick to share his gift with others. He knew that the real magic of music was to share it and promote creativity in others. He realized that he was blessed to have found his voice so early in life, and he encouraged others to work to find theirs. Read any of his tutorials and you'll be amazed at how he makes the complex simple.
Perhaps the fact that Dime wasn't a schooled musician made him such prolific one. He would frequently make reference to his lack of formal music training in interviews. Quite possibly, not having a solid foundation gave him more of a free palette on which to create amazing new sounds. He wasn't bound by the conformity of 300 years of music theory, so he just made up his own rules as he went along. That's Pantera for you.
But the part about his death that hurts the most, as it does with the tragic, unexpected and cruel murder of anyone we love, is that we'll never know the reason why. The world will never get resolve on the killer's frame of mind, what pain he might have been going through, or what motivated him to rob us of enjoying the music and company of one of metal's most endearing figures.
The only solace I can offer those family, fans and friends of Dime (and I'm struggling to find some) is that he literally died doing what he was born to do. We lost him far too early, and for that, he'll be enshrined in our memories right up there with Lennon, Rhoads, Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, Bob Marley, Tupac Shakur, Jam Master Jay and other unforgettable musicians.
And despite the fact that he's no longer with us, Dimebag's music, fittingly, lives on forever.
