Dimebag Darrell & the Black Tooth Grin

Black Tooth Grin, subtitled "The High Life, Good Times, And Tragic End of 'Dimebag' Darrell Abbott," is Dallas, Texas area journalist Zac Crain's "unauthorized" biography of the heavy metal guitarist, and seemingly Crain's first published book. Although Crain jumps into the project with great enthusiasm and passion, the result is a somewhat flawed and superficial work that places a lot of emphasis on the "music" and not enough on the "journalism" that would make for a great biography. As such, Black Tooth Grin has elements of the good, the bad, and the ugly within its 300+ pages.

The Good

When you boil it all down, Black Tooth Grin is really Crain's attempt to make some sort of sense out of the tragic and senseless death of "Dimebag" Darrell Abbott, which both begins and ends this story. Abbott, born and raised in Arlington, Texas, was a youthful six-string prodigy that, along with his drumming brother Vinnie, formed the influential '90s-era band Pantera.

Crain gets into the nuts-and-bolts of the Abbott brothers' early family life in Arlington, focusing on the teenaged "Diamond" Darrell Lance, as he was originally known, and his love of hard rock bands like Van Halen and Kiss. The book does a fine job of presenting the genesis of Abbott's lifelong infatuation with the guitar, covering the many regional contests that he won (to the point where he was banned from competing by the age of 15), as well as the formation of his earliest bands with brother Vinnie.

It is with the Pantera years – the bulk of the Abbott brothers' lives at the time, really – that Crain really shines in his narrative. From the band's earliest incarnation as a glam-metal "hair" band like Motley Crue or Poison during the 1980s, through its evolution into a lean, mean, metal-stomping machine behind vocalist Phil Anselmo during the '90s, Crain describes the many bumps in the road and the obstacles overcome by Pantera in becoming, perhaps, the best-known metal outfit during the alt-rock years, one that influenced an entire wave of metal bands during the last part of the decade.

Crain also delves into the pressures of the moderate fame and fortune enjoyed by the band, as well as vocalist Anselmo's drug addiction and subsequent alienation from the Abbott brothers, a schism that would eventually destroy Pantera. Of particular interest is the descriptions offered of Abbott by his many friends and associates. Regardless of the level of fame that the guitarist achieved, and the many accolades that were heaped upon his brilliant guitar virtuosity, Dimebag remained relatively nonplussed and admirably humble.

In the end, the Abbott brothers and Anselmo suffered through an acrimonious divorce that destroyed the band, with Darrell and Vinnie on one side of the split, vocalist Anselmo and the band's bassist, Rex "Rocker" Brown, on the other. The Abbotts would later form the band Damageplan and begin the long, slow slog through the club circuit all over again. Unlike many club bands, however, they scored a major label deal quite rapidly on the basis of their previous success, and released their lone album, New Found Power, just months before Abbott's death.

As many who are familiar with Dimebag Darrell already know, the good-hearted guitarist met his fate on stage at a club in Columbus, Ohio while performing with Damageplan on December 8, 2004. Abbott was shot to death during the band's first song by some deranged individual, a truly fucked-up wigger who, minutes after killing Abbott and three other people, was shot to death by police. We'll never know why the gun-toting former jarhead targeted Dimebag, but this seemingly random act of violence sent shockwaves throughout the heavy metal community at the time.

The Bad

Far too much of Black Tooth Grin reads like a Pantera fanzine. Several subjects are revisited over and over again to the point of absurdity. While Abbott's infamous Halloween parties deserve mentioning, maybe even the special "bonus" chapter they get, but Black Tooth Grin offers three lengthy passages on these events, as well as numerous mentions throughout the text. Throw in all of the other party descriptions, and the book (unfairly?) paints a rather two-dimensional portrait of Abbott.

Another cavil that I have is the repeated assertions that "genetics" had something to do with Abbott's talent and fame, which I find ridiculous. Crain repeats this inanity in describing Vinnie's drumming skills as well. Although Jerry Abbott, the brothers' father, was a songwriter with a few impressive credits, and a producer on the bottom rung of the country music industry, there is no real evidence that the elder Abbott's genetic contribution had much of anything to do with the brothers' musical talents.

Far more important to the brothers' development into world-class musicians – which, thankfully, Crain goes into in depth – is the support provided by Jerry and Carolyn Abbott for Darrell and Vinnie's musical endeavors. Whereas dad provided session time at the recording studio that he ran, managed the band in its early days and, in fact, drove the fledging covers-band that was Pantera to its initial gigs, mom provided a stable home environment and the sort of loving support necessary for a prodigy like Darrell to drop out of school and sit in his room playing guitar all day.

Although Black Tooth Grin is an "unauthorized biography," Crain gained access to many of Abbott's friends and associates, and uses published interviews with the guitarist, his brother, and other musicians to fill in the blanks. Too often, however, these various people have little or nothing to say of importance beyond remembering boozy days and nights spent with the guitar great.

There are exceptions, to be sure, such as longtime-friend Buddy "Blaze" Webster, or Larry English of Washburn Guitars, who deliver insightful remembrances of the man and his talents. Far too often, though, Crain fails to challenge his interview subjects to say something really interesting about their relationships with Abbott. I'm not looking for scandal or the sordid details of what was seemingly a life lived in public, just something more than "we got drunk together once," which leads us to…

…and the Ugly

Crain spends waaayyy too many pages and a bucket of ink fretting over Abbott's drinking habits, even including an entire chapter at the end of the book about such in a futile attempt to place Dimebag's prodigious hydration in proper context. Zac, buddy, we get it…Abbott drank a hell of a lot of hooch. Yes, he may have been a functional alcoholic, and it's obvious from the war stories told by various interviewees that booze played a major part in the guitarist's life.

But Abbott's drinking had absolutely no role in his tragic fate, and its effect on his music is questionable at best. That any rock star – much less a heavy metal guitarist – drinks to excess is not really surprising, and mostly irreverent to the narrative of Abbott's life. Give us a few more pages about what Dimebag thought about his music, or the creative process, or playing the guitar, or whatever and less about him serving up trays of shots to friends and sycophants.

Weighing all these factors together, I'd still have to recommend Black Tooth Grin to both fans of Dimebag Darrell/Pantera and to anybody even mildly interested in the work of this once-in-a-generation six-string talent. Although Crain too often comes across as the same sort of star-crossed fanboy that he frequently describes Abbott to be, instead of a serious biographer, he does a decent job of capturing the highs and lows of Dimebag's life nonetheless. Crain is an engaging writer, and Black Tooth Grin a quick, entertaining read that captures the essence of Dimebag Darrell Abbot…but it also could have done so much more. (Da Capo Press)

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