Thrash doesn’t suck—as long as Belladonna’s behind the mic.
Let’s be honest: in the 80s, glam metal was the popular kid in school. All hairspray and eyeliner and songs about shagging. But while that lot were busy straddling motorcycles in leather trousers and writing lyrics about sex on the beach (the act, not the cocktail), something louder, faster, and infinitely more pissed-off was brewing underground.
Enter: Thrash metal.
Less about image, more about rage. Less hairspray, more whiplash.
The bastard child of NWOBHM and hardcore punk, thrash turned metal up to 11 and then set the amp on fire for good measure. Speed, aggression, palm-muted riffs, and shredding solos were the name of the game. And lyrically? Forget roses and heartbreaks. Think nuclear war, political unrest, and environmental doom. Fun at parties.
You’ve heard of the Big Four—Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, Anthrax.
And just to be difficult (on brand), I didn’t start with Metallica. I started with Anthrax. Because Scott Ian yelled something on Metal Evolution that got lodged in my brain like a rogue guitar pick in a washing machine.
“That’s not metal.” – Scott Ian, Warrior of Righteous Scorn
Scott Ian—guitarist, beard enthusiast, and metal purist—summed it up best:
| "That's not metal. We were metal. Iron Maiden is metal. That shit that was coming out of L.A. or anywhere else where you had guys dressing like girls was not f*cking metal."
I chuckled. And decided, if I was going to throw myself into thrash metal—something I’d actively avoided like an overdue dentist appointment—Anthrax was my gateway drug.
The Anthrax DNA: Chaos, Changes, and One Very Stubborn Guitarist
Formed in 1981 in the concrete jungle of New York, Anthrax was the brainchild of rhythm guitarist and eternal eyebrow-raiser Scott Ian—the only founding member who’s still hanging on for dear life.
Over the years, the lineup has shuffled, but a few key players have become the band’s backbone:
- Joey Belladonna – the voice that could cut glass and charm snakes
- Frank Bello – bassist and high-kick enthusiast
- Charlie Benante – drummer, riff-writer, and general thrash wizard
Together, these three have appeared on the lion’s share of Anthrax’s 11 studio albums (yes, eleven), and have kept the ship steady.
First Impressions: Fistful of Metal (1984)
Anthrax’s debut is exactly what it says on the tin: a sonic punch in the face. Still rough around the edges, still figuring itself out—very much a metal band in puberty. It’s also the only album with Neil Turbin on vocals, and frankly, the band doesn’t revisit this one much. But I was pleasantly surprised.
The cover of Alice Cooper’s I’m Eighteen? Solid nostalgia hit.
Favourites: Panic and Deathrider—both now living rent-free on my playlist.
Spreading the Disease (1985): Thrash, Found
Now this is where things clicked. Enter Joey Belladonna, whose clean, melodic, and borderline operatic voice immediately set Anthrax apart in the thrash landscape of barked vocals and testosterone yowls. Suddenly, I could hear the thrash blueprint—tight, fast, furious—and somehow still catchy.
Also, if you haven’t watched the Madhouse video, please do. It’s 80s chaos on acid.
Favourite track? Medusa. Belladonna is an absolute weapon.
The Golden Era (1985–1990): Belladonna Reigns
With Belladonna up front, Anthrax released four studio albums in five years, proving they had more energy than a toddler on Red Bull. Belladonna’s voice gave the band a melodic edge that made me go, "Huh. Maybe thrash is for me?"
They also weren’t afraid to get weird.
1987’s I’m the Man was a rap-metal crossover before nu-metal made that a regrettable trend. Then in 1991, they doubled down with Bring the Noise featuring Public Enemy, and toured together like it was the most natural thing in the world. And somehow—it worked. It slaps, even.
Among the Living (1987): The Breakthrough
If you want textbook thrash, Among the Living is it. Fast. Furious. Loud.
Certified Gold in 1990, despite minimal radio play and MTV giving it the cold shoulder.
This is the album that solidified Anthrax’s Big Four status and gave them that sweet "main stage at the apocalypse" vibe.
Follow-ups State of Euphoria and Persistence of Time also went Gold. The latter marked a shift into darker, more serious territory—less jokes, more existential dread. Still heavy. Still good.
Metal, Sitcoms, and Sudden Firing
In peak "wait, what?" fashion, Anthrax showed up on Married with Children in their own episode (Dinner with Anthrax, 1992). Because nothing says thrash metal like Al Bundy, apparently.
Also in 1992: Joey Belladonna was unceremoniously yeeted from the band. Creative differences, they claimed. (Translation: someone threw a cymbal during rehearsal and it wasn’t just for percussion.)
Enter John Bush.
Bush fronted Anthrax from 1992 to 2005, taking the band into a grittier, more groove-laden direction—less falsetto, more grit. Honestly, the Bush era deserves its own blood-soaked blog post, because it’s a whole different beast.
Belladonna would eventually return for some nostalgic live gigs in the mid-2000s, and then again properly in 2010, completing the world’s loudest boomerang arc.
Closing Thoughts from a Thrash Convert
So, look. I avoided thrash because I assumed it would just be noise.
And yes, it is noise. But it’s purposeful, blistering, beautiful noise, with insane musicianship and way more nuance than I gave it credit for.
Belladonna sold me. Anthrax surprised me. Thrash isn’t the enemy. It’s just the cousin that shows up to family events in denim vests, screams about injustice, and steals your last beer. And now? I kind of love that guy.
Next up on the genre tourism trail: more thrash, more chaos, more shouting.
Stay tuned, weirdos.