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Pantera, though, remain special to me - an outlier within my personal pantheon, but one that runs deep into the archives of my adolescent soul. But sometime during high school I aligned myself with a different subculture, and my taste developed so that very few of the artists on the Inkcarceration bill piqued my interest, childhood CD collection staples like Bush and Limp Bizkit notwithstanding. I’d dipped my toe in this scene as a young teenager, attending shows at my local shed amphitheater by Staind (regrettable) and Kid Rock (would see again).

But there were a lot more military-adjacent T-shirts and ballcaps than I’m used to seeing at hipster-friendly events, as well as wardrobe choices like the lady in the tank top that said “Husband Beater” across the chest.

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The basic trappings of a festival were the same as I’m used to - plentiful bars, food vendors, brand installations, portable toilets. As it stands, I don’t frequent events like Inkcarceration, a festival so named because it involves tattoos and is held at the Ohio State Reformatory, the former prison where The Shawshank Redemption was filmed. Maybe if I’d experienced Pantera in person during their imperial reign as one of the heaviest, angriest, most gruesomely inventive bands in rock, I’d have become a different person.

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(There is no way the 14-year-old me, who heard The Great Southern Trendkill in my best friend’s bedroom across the street and spent the rest of eighth grade in my basement trying to learn how to play pinch harmonics like Dimebag Darrell, would have ever attended a Pantera concert with a hearty parental endorsement.) “That’s good parenting,” he mused.Īn hour earlier I had indeed spotted a young girl whose T-shirt read “I listen to Pantera with my parents.” But I imagine there were plenty of us present who discovered the Texas metal giants in their heyday and just missed the window when we would have been either allowed to attend a gig or able to sneak out to one. Barefoot, head buzzed to the skin, rocking shorts and his own band’s T-shirt, Anselmo looked positively chuffed. “And how many of you, this is your first time?” he continued, greeted now by even more hands and even louder cheers. A lot of hands in the thousands-strong crowd went up, soundtracked by the customary hooting and hollering. “How many of you saw Pantera in the ’90s?” asked Phil Anselmo.

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