Actually being a metal head in Malaysia is not that bad of a deal if you don't mind being judged by the ever intolerant and ignorant society or getting caught wearing corpse paint while attending underground heavy metal concerts or getting your records seized by the custom officer from time to time. I have long accepted the fact that Heavy Metal was, is and always will be a tribal thing. Heavy Metal, this wonderful sick music, gave me some sense of pride, self empowerment and to a certain extent kept my head up high when life was being a hard on me. And one more thing, metal was never meant for fucking Ipods! My name is Hafeez and this is my story.
When I got my first dosage of heavy metal, I was about 13 years old. I think I have already written somewhere in here that I was introduced to heavy metal, not from any heavy metal uncles or any long haired heavy metal friends but from a shitty local tabloid called Harian Metro (a Malaysian daily metro; a still existing local shitty tabloid which regularly glorifies sex related “intelligence” as its major headline and from time to time launches crusades against heavy metal).
Before the life changing revelation, I was just your typical neighborhood adolescent nerd who would listen to whatever there was on the FM radio. Back in the early 90’s, although Hollywood rock, or glam metal or hair metal as some people would call it, was slowly losing its grip back in the United States due to the Seattle/Kurt Cobain’s phenomenon (read: grunge); here in Malaysia, Rock was fighting for her last few breaths against Rap music.
To be continued...