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Thursday, July 14, 2016

1996......ROOTS.....BRIXTON ACADEMY....THE END....PART 2


Max had made a long set list for this show. We knew it was to be the last time he would share the stage with the other guys together.. Looking back, I now know that we were the only people outside of our children, who knew this was the end. Lots of emotions... We went through the routine, it was what we did, every day, on tour. Photos, press, visitors... What we did not know was that Roadrunner Records had hired a mobile recording unit to capture the show, and it was tucked out of sight. Sure, they thought they had some secret insight, but they were wrong...very wrong.




Our family was in force...every one of us...except Dana. Kristen was there with the little guys, and of course, Christina was there..ever my champion. The side of the stage was filled with friends, support and opening bands and family. It was a strong unit. But something was amiss...


The set began and some of the bands with us pulled me aside. "Gloria, the guys want us to come out on stage naked during Ratamahata, but we don't feel right." Sure, this caught me by surprise! That track was Max's favorite of the live show. He interacted with the crowd during it and this would cause distraction and also catch him off guard. I though and said "Well, with his children on the side of the stage, his wife and other people, a sold out London show...You need to decide; but I wouldn't recommend it." They agreed and the show smoothly proceeded.


The drum jam was coming up. I wanted this to be one to remember. I had some of the tribal face paint in my purse. God only knows where it came from, but it was there. Christina and I gathered everyone we could...the bands, friends, family, and gave everyone a dose of tribal face paint. We shooed them all on the stage for the most memorable drum jam Sepultura would ever have with Max at the helm. On Max's sides, the friends and bands, and in the center, around their Pops...the children..all 5 of them! Roxanne held little Igor, who was only one year old.




This brought laughter and massive crowd response. Everyone was smiling..and then..it was done. Max and the kids went to the bus and I went to talk to the others.

Briefly, I was told that they didn't want me to manage them They would get someone else and I would continue to manage Max and everyone would be happy. I focused on Max...WHAT A CRIME! Whoa! Oh, so it was MY fault he was charismatic? It was My fault the press and fans ran after him? No, it wasn't. It was just Max, and everyone wanted him and everyone loved him. I never said a word but I knew I was gone the second I walked out the door. After al, my contract was done. Did I offer another? Nope, I didn't. Why would I stay and share management when I had just completed their fantastic deal with Roadrunner? Why did I need someone when I had the entire next year booked? I didn't. Why did I need someone when it was my management that took them to the level they were at? I didn't. How do you fire someone who is done with their contract? You can't!

I went to the bus and all Hell broke lose! Everyone was fighting and cursing. Max started drinking and it carried through to the hotel. I got the bags and kids ready for the flight home. They were flying from Heathrow and we were leaving from Gatwick. Max kept on drinking. It was pure fire and chaos around us! Max was pissed off royally, and I had to think about all the arrangements to get us all home.

Max, Zyon, little Igor and I got dropped off first. Max was pretty much useless from the booze and I struggled to get the luggage, stroller and kids in the terminal. I ran a load in and hauled ass back to the bus but it was gone. No cell phones in those days and guess what? Our airline tickets were on the table in the front lounge! I was at my limit of stress!

Crying and exhausted from my All Nighter, I herded everyone to the ticket counter and began to rattle off my story. Igor was in the stroller at my feet and Max and Zyon were on a bench nearby...or so I thought This was going to take some explaining and I tried to gather what brain cells I had left and get our butts on the plane!

As I was making some headway, there was a tap, tap, on my shoulder. I looked around to see a Bobby, a police officer, a Popo. This was getting worse by the minute! "In the UK, it is illegal for an inebriated person to be in charge of a minor, " he explained. I looked around for Max and caught my share of surprises as I saw him staggering across the terminal, dragging Zyon by the hand. Max was falling and couldn't walk at all. "I am in charge of the youngster, " I said to him. It took some begging and explaining to get the officer to let Max return to me and not get himself hauled off to jail! The kindly airline cancelled our first class tickets and gave us new ones in the back row of another airplane...leaving in 6 hours!!!

This was pushing it, as I had to sober Max up and keep the little guys comforted during the eternal wait for the next flight! Hours seemed like days, with much time to reflect...

I knew what to do...let him create. Let him pour his pain and hate into music. Let it flow. Then, pull the music out of him...begin anew... I knew the procedure....encourage the artist, get the music...call Cees and then Monte.... And that's what I did. And..... in staying true to ourselves, Max's fans and our family, we let our SOUL FLY!!!

Class dismissed....