R.I.P. "Diamond/Dimebag" Darrell Lance Abbott (1966-2004), Vinnie Paul Abbott (1964-2018)
Metal Magic wasn’t very metal, and it certainly wasn’t magical, but considering that the Abbott brothers were still in their teens when their dad helped them make the first Pantera record, it had its moments. The songs may not have all been there, but a handful of tracks like “I’ll Be Alright” showed an initial spark that would set the band on their way. In the early days, Pantera was all about having fun, and this track reflected that with enthusiastic playing from every member, and if Terry Glaze’s screeching was always more than a little ridiculous, it also always felt like he was right there in the mix with the Abbotts and Rex “Rocker” Brown. “I’ll Be Alright” was a no-frills early ‘80s Z-grade headbanger that sounded much more like a group of guys trying to get a party going than shooting for the stars, and that was fundamental to its charm.
Summary :: Dimebag gets home from tour earlier than expected and catches you....in an interesting position ;]
TW :: Suggestive- like very, rated M
[thanks for the request anon <3]
Dime smiles as he walks through the doorframe of your shared house. He looks around the living room but doesn't see you so he calls out for you, "Sweetheat! Darlin' I'm home early!" He waits a few seconds- still not hearing or seeing you, thinking you went out to the store.
Dime shrugs, setting his bag on the dining table and heading into the kitchen to make a sandwich. He whips one up quickly and heads to the bedroom to chillax as he waits for you.
He walks in, eyes widening as he sees you laying on the bed- face in the mattress hips in the air and your hand down your pants. The noises and whines you make send shivers down his spine. "Darlin'?" Dime mumbles, his mouth now very dry.
You stop, hand still down your pants and face red. You turn your head to face him and whine, "Dime..I need help,,.." You mumble, embarrassed by getting caught but glad that he's here. Dime's breath catches and he nods- not saying a word and coming up behind you, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing them softly.
Dave Grohl recalls how Dimebag shaped the Foo Fighters philosophy about backstage hospitality:
"...There was an Ozzfest in England in 1998, and Korn canceled. So we got the call. It was Slayer, Pantera and Black Sabbath. We had to go on after Pantera. I was so terrified: 'There's gonna be a riot. I'm gonna get drawn and quartered. No one's going to like our band.'
But we played, and I looked to the side. The guys from Pantera are watching us and singing the lyrics to our songs. Afterwards we made friends with Pantera. I was nervous and scared; I didn't think I fit in. But they were so open to us. That backstage hospitality we try to have – it all came from Pantera. Dimebag Darrell was the nicest fucking guy in the world. He could walk in and do a shot of Crown Royal with Justin Bieber, with Rick Nielsen, with James Brown – he was everybody's best friend. And you could feel that energy when he was playing.
After that day, I was like, 'From now on, everybody's allowed in this room. I don't care if it's Britney Spears.' I became the backstage best friend. Whenever I showed up at a festival, the first thing I'd do is grab a bottle of whiskey and go knocking on doors to see who the funniest people are. You'd be surprised who the real fucking nutcases are..."
R.I.P. “Diamond/Dimebag” Darrell Lance Abbott (1966-2004), Vinnie Paul Abbott (1964-2018)
The past 20 years, not to mention the controversy surrounding Phil Anselmo and Rex Brown reviving the brand without the Abbotts, managed to obscure the uncomfortable fact that Pantera ended on a down note: besides Anselmo’s antics being almost entirely responsible for the group’s dissolution, their final album and tour found the band exhausted and mostly running on fumes. On the one hand, the relative leanness of Reinventing the Steel was welcome after the increasing bloat of the previous two records, but while “Hellbound” was a canonfire blast of an opener, it also betrayed Pantera’s continued lack of focus. Sure, Vinnie Paul’s drumming was as intense and powerful as ever, and there could only ever be one Dimebag Darrell, but as singular as their “power groove” was, here it was very clearly prioritized over actual songwriting, and that wasn’t helped by Anselmo phoning it in and seemingly nodding off mid-song. “Hellbound” felt like a really good idea that wasn’t fully seen through, so while it sounded killer as it played, one couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.