Undisputed_ How to Become the World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps - Chris Jericho [131]
Fozzy was a machine that day and led the rowdy crowd through an all-original six song set. We jumped, pogoed, headbanged, led chants, got thousands of people to wave their hands in the air in unison and put on the best show we could. After the last note was played we were rewarded with the sound of 25,000 people chanting our name.
It was an incredible feeling and I was so fired up that I didn’t notice the flight of stairs leading off the stage. I had just played the biggest gig of my life and conquered thousands of fans, but none of that mattered when I tripped and fell down the steps.
I skidded and stumbled into the arms of a seven-foot-tall masked monster named Mr. Lordi, who was waiting to go on next. “Watch your step, friend,” Mr. Lordi said with a thick Finnish accent. “Don’t be such a klutz next time.”
This mob of 25,000 at the Download Festival in Donington, England, was the biggest crowd Fozzy ever played for. Fozzy’s smallest crowd? Twenty-seven people in Windsor, Ontario.
Olen idiootti!
Afterwards, we were hanging around the backstage compound watching our bass player Sean Delson take advantage of the free haircut that the festival organizers provided to all bands (a haircut at a rock show?). The stylist spent thirty minutes sculpting his coif into an awful outdated style that could only be called “The Joyce DeWitt.”
Strangely the helmet hair kind of fit Delson, as he was a comical guy who referred to things he liked as “Your Dad” and passed the time on the road by replacing the “Driving” in Driving Miss Daisy with any form of torture he could think of: “Defiling Miss Daisy,” “Eviscerating Miss Daisy,” “Cornholing Miss Daisy,” “Cleveland Steaming Miss Daisy”—you get the gist.
We were thoroughly enjoying his look of embarrassment at his horrible haircut, pointing our fingers and laughing in his face, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned and saw Dave Mustaine, the leader of Megadeth and one of the best guitar players of all time. I’d met him a few times over the years, and even though he had a reputation for being surly he was always nice to me.
“You guys sounded great today, Chris, and your lead guitar player really knows what he’s doing.”
We called our guitar player, Mike Martin, “Sir Shred” and “Mr. Holy Shit” due to the reactions he received after he displayed his guitar wizardry. I knew Mike was a big fan of Mustaine’s, so I brought him over to say hi about twenty minutes later.
“Hey Dave, this is Mike Martin, from Fozzy.”
Dave’s facial expression altered into one of disgust like he had just stepped in a pile of Ulrich shit. He stared at the bearded Mike, sizing him up from head to toe.
“You need to shave. You look like a terrorist,” he sneered and sauntered off.
Classic MegaDave.
Download was a huge success for us, and even the previously Fozzy-unfriendly Kerrang! magazine called us “the surprise band of the day.”
The great reviews opened the doors for us to tour the UK yet again and we crisscrossed the country playing more sold-out shows packed with loyal fans. But in typical Jericho fashion, whenever I got too high on my rock-star horse, something always went down to bring me back to earth.
We were playing in Brighton and there were two pretty girls in the front row. When I strutted past them, I noticed them smiling and giggling at me. It was obvious they were digging my vibe and I decided to sing directly to them. They were sniggering now and I thought how amazing it was that I had the power to make girls swoon with my singing.
When one of them pointed at me I pointed right back and kept crooning. She continued pointing and I noticed she was gesturing towards my lower abdominal area. What was this girl insinuating? Did she want to see my love gun? But the weird thing was, she wasn’t pointing sensually or with any modicum of desire; in fact the two of them were outright belly laughing now.
Download, 2005. We’re a big stage band, we always have been, and it’s where