See You in Hell, My Friend: Steve Grimmett (1959-2022)

 

By Null

Steve Grimmett recently passed away. He was the lead singer of Grim Reaper, one of the bands that were part of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, which was a particular type of metal that began in the mid-1970s. I am not a metal aficionado by any stretch of the imagination, so I do not really know all the bands Steve was associated with, nor did I follow his life’s work in music. I do, however, have a soft spot for the guy.

I first heard, and saw, Grim Reaper when I was a kid staying up late one night in the early 1980s watching music videos. The video for “See You in Hell” came on. I thought it was ridiculous, but I never forgot it.

Some people may associate Grim Reaper more with Spinal Tap. I know I did. But many metalheads perceive them to be legends. Regardless, Grim Reaper’s songs were short, hooky, and sing-a-longs. The songs seemed like cliché after cliché. In the middle of the mix was Steve’s ear-piercing high vocals, which always made me giggle.

Many years ago, just for the fun of it, I got my hands on a CD that contained the first two Grim Reaper albums. I drove around town jamming the tunes in an almost ironic way.

That is, until I noticed something.

I was smiling.

For a long time, I staked my claim that I listened to very serious music. This generally involved obsessing over smart, political punk rock bands—music that I still hold dear.

However, in a world that is ravaged by capitalist destruction that generates misery every day, it can be revolutionary to simply smile. Grim Reaper reminded me that music can also just be fun.

Music also serves that purpose. 

That is when I put my pretensions aside and realized that Grim Reaper are a fucking trip and they make me fucking happy. It is like The Muppet Show for adults, but made up of real people. When I think of Grim Reaper, I simply smile.

In 2017, Steve Grimmett got a bad infection in his leg that eventually led to an amputation. His leg was replaced with a “heavy” metal prosthetic. What did he do? He went on stage in a wheel chair, stood up, and with the aid of a cane commanded the stage. He was in it for the long haul. Grim Reaper were never pretty, but they showed up.

Steve Grimmett had family that loved him and good friends. I have often seen pictures of him having ale at the pub with fans. He seemed like a chilled out geezer. I would have loved to have shared a few hugs and beers with him, warts and all. He just seemed grounded. In other words, he was not a Kardashian. As Steve noted in an interview earlier this year, “I haven't got a penny to my name…. I’m on welfare at the moment because of COVID, and a lot of people do think that I am a millionaire, but I can tell you now, I’m not. I’ve never received a penny—not one penny—from Grim Reaper, so that says it all, doesn’t it? But still, no regrets. I still love getting up there and playing. I still love watching the smiling faces in front of me. That says it all and does it all for me.” That’s where I’m at. Fuck, at least he was real.

All of this is a reminder that our lives are short. Embrace those who bring joy into your life. We’re all just people. Steve brought many a smile to my face. It was more than most people have done.

See you in hell, my friend.