Tonight is the Kerrang! Awards 2018. You should know that by now, as we've been banging on about it for weeks. To celebrate the big day, we asked Phil Alexander -- Kerrang! Creative Director, former Kerrang! magazine editor, and man of many stories about bands behaving badly -- to tell us the story of the first Kerrang! Awards back in 1994.
Enjoy:
When we launched the Kerrang! Awards back in the summer of 1994, we had no idea whether anyone would actually care about them. To us, though, the idea was simple enough: we wanted to celebrate the music that we loved by having a party. The fact that we were also about to publish the 500th issue of Kerrang! gave us reason enough to get on with organising that inaugural gong show.
Scouring London for a suitable venue, we found Notre Dame Hall, a space underneath a French Catholic Church just of Leicester Square. It seemed perfect. The fact that the Sex Pistols had played there in late 1976 merely added to its appeal. Then came the small matter of inviting the guests themselves.
The first people we called about the awards were Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne, who agreed to attend in order for Ozzy to pick up the cumbersomely titled Kerrang! Kudos Award. The Osbournes' willingness to get involved was both reassuring and daunting in equal measure. Now we had to get on with it for real…
As far as deciding on the trophies themselves, we plumped for a Golden K -- although finding a company to sculpt them to match Kerrang!’s famed ‘90s spikey logo proved slightly problematic. In terms of deciding who would win one of these hand-crafted trophies, we felt it was only fair to hand over that burden of responsibility to the readers of the magazine by inviting them to cast their vote. And vote they did, in the thousands, helping to decide a bunch of categories: Best Album (Sepultura’s Chaos AD), Best Alternative Metal Album (Therapy?’s Troublegum), Best British Band (Def Leppard), Best International Act (Pantera), Best International Live Act (Bon Jovi), and Best British Live Act (The Almighty).
The afternoon of June 13 itself was gloriously warm, as assorted musicians eschewed the sun to descend into our chosen crypt-like venue. As the then-editor of the magazine, I was the de facto awards presenter. I changed in the gents into an ill-fitting set of coat-and-tails I’d hired for the occasion. There was a light delay in terms of getting into the gents, largely because Ozzy -- having “bollocked down” two 2 litre bottles of Pepsi -- was busy hogging the sole cubicle for what seemed like an unreasonable amount of time.