It's the end of an era, so to speak. The man, the myth, Wild-Man Rick Ta' Life has made a big step towards manhood and shaved off his trademark dreadlocks. Gone forever are the days when wide-eyed youngsters can pay five dollars to gain admission to a 25 Ta' Life or Comin' Correct gig, buy a blank cdr or cassette tape that's supposedly the Straight Ahead discography from the Rick Healy Mini-Mall of Hardcore distro, and get that giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach as grown men brutalize you with blazing riffage, some of the world's stompinest breakdowns, and wisdom seldom found in this day and age.I recall watching my first 25 Ta Life show as a youth and being utterly blown away by the sheer power of the entire experience. When Rick procalimed that he wanted to see "nigguhs on top of nigguhs", by god, his request was granted! As the avid fans flew through the air to land upon each other in true NYHC Pile-On fashion, Healy flung his dreadlocks in every which way with a vigor unseen in today's heavy music. The way they hung in the air and danced around each other with each shake of his head, like a ballet of dander-encrusted snakes. My eyes find themselves watering as I wade through the memories of Healy explaining to the crowd, like a fiery Baptist preacher at a revival, how violence was "fucking idiot bullshit" and that if anyone had a problem with his sentiment they could meet him in the parking lot and "fucking fight" him right there and then! Oh Lord, the new crop of rascals will have no idea what they're missing. I weep for the future of hardcore as I type this, but I know in my heart that nothing can take those times away from me. Nothing. Those dread were always there for me when I needed them, like a true friend; The meaning of Hardcore.
JSIII
JSIII