Much has been made of the so-called Big Four of thrash, consisting of Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax and Slayer. And though Metallica has recently taken steps to return to their punchier, thrashier roots with Death Magnetic following the industry-wide panning of St. Anger, and Megadeth has released a career-defining album this year in the critically acclaimed Endgame, Anthrax remains in the spotlight mainly due to the ongoing drama surrounding the departure of short-term stand-in vocalist Dan Nelson and the “will he or won't he” speculation on the  return of John Bush, not to mention the guessing game surrounding their next album, Worship Music, which was recorded with Nelson but now sits in limbo following his unceremonious ouster. Meanwhile, Slayer, by many accounts, is understandably starting to lose a step or two in the live performance department as the band members edge their way towards the half century mark. Thirty years of synchronized head banging is bound to take a toll sooner or later. And yet  these bands consistently enjoy more accolades than some of their contemporaries who, in a perfect world, should have expanded the Big Four into the Sinister Six, and despite a general lack of recognition save for some favorable album reviews on their latest works, are still managing to lead the thrash pack despite their advancing years. I'm talking about bands like Testament, the old guardians of thrash who have returned with an undeniable vengeance to show the retro high top sneaker and denim wearing kids of today, who were likely still in diapers if they had even been born yet at all during  thrash metal's glory days, what thrash is all about. I'm talking about Exodus, who returned in 2004 after a decade-plus hiatus to, according to band leader, guitarist and main songwriter Gary Holt, nearly singlehandedly usher in the thrash renaissance that has dominated the pages of many metal magazines for the past few years.

Every band’s front man or woman has probably had to deal with varying degrees of stage fright at one point or another in their career. For some, the feeling can be assuaged with an alcoholic beverage or two, while for others the thought of facing a crowd of any size requires something a bit stronger, and may involve multipble trips to the bathroom to void their stomach contents. For Lacrimosa’s main man Tilo Wolff, the cure before his band’s first show was a bottle of whiskey, an all too common remedy in the entertainment industry. But there was nothing common about Lacrimosa’s first gig.

How many bands have made their live debut in front of a festival crowd of 15,000 pairs of staring eyes? That’s not exactly open mic night down at the local booze dispensary. So how was Lacrimosa able to forego the years of paying their dues? It wasn’t so much a conscious decision as it was Tilo’s aversion to crowds that led Lacrimosa, which for the past 16 years has been headed by Wolff along with his collaborator and wife, Anne Nurmi, to delay their first concert until the release of their fourth album.

“For many years people offered me to go on stage and I was always like, no,” recalls Wolff. “Then when I finally said yes it was a festival in front of 15,000 people. And I thought, ‘If I do it, I do it the hard way.’ Because then there’s no turning back. It was the only way for me. After that concert I knew I survived; with a whiskey bottle and drinking hard, but still I survived.”

There’s an age-old story about a lethargic tortoise and a potentially A.D.D. addled hare that ends with the adage, “Slow and steady wins the race.” These words of wisdom could be applied to many areas of life: sexual foreplay, playing the stock market, world travel. However, many bands who have tried to use this same strategy in their careers have ended up on a slow and steady steamboat to nowhere. They are overtaken by bands that understand that slow and steady is all well and good at the start of the race, but if that’s the approach you’re going to take, you’d better be ready to overtake the rest of your competitors in the final sprint. Run the whole race slow and steady and chances are you’ll be crossing the finish line when all the fans have already gone home, save for those last few diehard supporters.

But Brazil's Hibria is one band which has made the slow and steady approach work for them. The band was founded 13 years ago, and over the course of their existence they have released just two full-length albums, 2004’s Defying the Rules, a concept album following the personal evolution of a character called the Steel Lord, a former arena gladiator who starts another life on the open road aboard a motorcycle, and 2009’s The Skull Collectors, the band’s second concept effort about a fighter pilot turned tortured mercenary.

“I need 3,500 Taiwanese dollars!” Into Eternity’s multi-octave vocalist Stu Block says as he pokes his head in through one of the windows beside the semi-enclosed booth at the small café inside the Taipei venue known as the Wall where the band will play on May 17th, 2009.

“OK, what for?” Asks band founder and lead guitarist Tim Roth like a father asking a son why he needs an advance on his allowance, his shaved head and severe goatee suggesting a stern figure, a far cry from his utterly approachable and outgoing personality.

“I’m going to get the logo right here on my arm! The tattoo guy next door is going to do it right now! I will pay you back!” replies Block in a staccato rapid fire manner that reveals just how genuinely excited he is about getting some new ink. Never mind that the band will be on in a little over an hour. Roth agrees and just a few minutes later Block is under the needle, getting the Into Eternity logo on his right arm between the bicep and the forearm. As many metal enthusiasts are already aware, the pain of getting a tattoo is temporary, but the mark lasts a lifetime.