Neon Night Tinnitus

You don’t have a choice, really.

Even if you don’t care, you’re going to have to listen to every single little sordid detail. Because you’re here. If you’re not interested, you’re free to leave right this instant, I’ll try not to hold it against you.

But if you’re still reading past this point, sit down, shut up and strap in, because it’s one hell of a ride.

We started waiting outside the gates at four which turned out to be lucky because we were something like the seventh ones in line and when they finally opened the gates at seven, we were right up in front, pressed against the heavy-duty metal barrier that protected the amplifiers and security guards.

People were already getting drunk and smoking wildly, leaning and shoving slightly, jostling to get a better view. The seven of us just held the barrier tightly, and we basically had an unobstructed view of the entire stage all night.

When the concert actually started, it was magnificent. Magnificent like – there are no words to describe how fucking awesome this experience is and yet how completely surreal so that I can’t actually believe I’m standing here, 10 metres from Black Sabbath – magnificent. I could see every line on Dio's forehead, each lock of Vinny's hair as it whipped backward in the wind from his fan.

Ronnie James Dio was perfect. He was an absolute gentleman, charming, polite, sincere and that voice. I could go on about that voice all night. Vibrato so perfect at times we couldn't tell it apart from the guitar. Pitch so accurate it was better than the studio recording. A scream like a fender on heavy distort. And of course, the trademark Maloike.


And Tony Iommi? My god, he’s SUCH a fox. He strode out on stage in his trademark black leather trenchcoat and his golden cross and it was love at first sight. He refused to look at me through those tinted glasses of his, mostly because he closes his eyes through all his solos and feels his way through the music. And you know me, that sensitive, cheeky, intuitive musicianship just gets me, every single time.

I started head banging the moment they appeared on the stage, tossing off the riffs to Children of the Sea like it was nothing. The seven of us were standing in a sort of semi-circle at the barrier, surrounding this little, Australian, 12-year-old kid and protecting him from the crush. Halfway through the concert, the audience started pushing and shoving, and I found myself crotch-to-ass with a couple of other girls constantly.

When they screamed into Die Young, all hell broke loose and at some points, I couldn’t actually feel if my feet were connected to my body, but we were all head banging so frantically that it didn’t seem to matter. Their rendition of Heaven and Hell just killed me… I literally just died on the spot with joy, nevermind that some idiot was body surfing in the crowd above my head and someone else was throwing beer on all of us.

By the time they encored with Neon Knights, I was plastered to the barrier by a surging human wave and I couldn’t feel my toes. The whole barricade smelt like hot metal from our grips and I could feel the damp warmth rolling off the bodies surrounding me. To be fair though, my brothers did a great job of keeping the crowd off the girls near them. They really protected us and prevented us from being smashed around too much.

The best part of the night was when Geezer Butler and Iommi threw guitar picks out at the audience. There was a mad scrabble and somehow, my brother managed to get one, Han got two, and even the little kid with us stole one off the security personnel. I was just feeling sad at not having caught one when I kicked a crumpled beer can with my foot and unearthed a purple Geezer Butler pick that had fallen to the floor!

(Left to right with all our picks: Wei, Cha Siew, Fendi, Lai, Han, Shen, and behind the camera, yours truly)

So basically more than half of us left with an amazing memento, actually cradled in the hands of the fathers of metal… and even more than that, I am now accompanied everywhere by the sound of a dozen birds chirping loudly in my ears.

Considering that I was standing in front of two highly amped speakers that sent reverb right into the base of my chest, I got off pretty lightly with a little tinnitus and slight, temporary hearing defects.

Yeah, maybe I went home with ringing in my ears and beer-stained clothes… maybe I was pushed around an awful lot and made to stand uncomfortably on tiptoe to avoid stepping on others’ feet.

But I had my hand in the air with the rest of them the whole time, because, really, numb toes, tingling ears and sweaty clothes just to be front and centre at a lifechanging event with people who altered the face of music forever and have Dio look, actually LOOK at me?

Completely, totally, heaven-and-helliciously worth it.