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Life On The New Jersey Heavy Metal Scene Through The Eyes Of Metal Rose Part 1 Last In Line/Dio Show

Writer's picture: Rose OsipaviciusRose Osipavicius

Updated: Nov 18, 2024




I would like to provide some background on what an achievement and hardship this experience was for me.


From the very beginning, it seemed that Tonybro was reluctant to open for Last In Line. I couldn't quite understand why, as Last In Line is a band that carries on the legacy of Dio now that he’s gone. Tonybro and I spent countless nights listening to and sharing what Dio meant to both of us. I vividly remember the first time Tony showed me a new song he had written, "Icon." He explained how he was inspired by Dio, referencing Black Sabbath’s "I." It was an incredible moment.


Looking back two years prior to this performance, we were offered $1,000 to co-headline with Last In Line. Co-headlining with Last In Line? And a paid gig?! As many of us in the metal industry know, our beloved venues like Dingbatz and Debonair Music Hall continue to exist despite the shifting landscape of live music and the arts. There is indeed a plague on the arts in this country, and metal and other niche genres have borne the brunt of this ongoing assault. Our cherished venues often have to ask their booked acts to guarantee a certain percentage of ticket sales.


This arrangement is different from the notorious payola and pay-to-play schemes in the record industry. It's not about record labels or other interested parties trying to unfairly influence musical tastes; it’s the creators themselves, along with those who appreciate their art, trying desperately to deliver music to the fans. It’s the only financial model that allows these local legends to keep the lights on and the doors open so fans can enjoy their music and create lasting memories.


For us to do this for the local scene, we often have to guarantee anywhere from a few hundred dollars to just more than a thousand dollars. We guarantee this amount because it’s necessary for us to perform for you. We don’t always recoup the money, but we don’t pursue what we love most for monetary gain. I live to perform for you, and I would willingly endure poverty to make it happen—I have, in fact. The past several years, really the last decade when I think about it, have been genuinely challenging and somewhat frightening. However, every artist will tell you that it’s worth it. It’s always worth it, even when the exhilaration of giving it your all fades and the familiar sting of being out another three hundred dollars returns, leaving you without gas money.


So, getting an actual paid gig was a significant win, separate from the incredible honor of being asked to work with Last In Line. That thousand dollars would have meant $250 per band member. At that time, $250 would have made a huge difference in my life, especially since I am a single mom and, as I’ve candidly shared, it was a rough period. Instead of celebrating this opportunity, Tony grumbled about it and insisted that we take a show that we wouldn't be paid for, requiring us to do the (please understand this is standard practice) guarantor thing. While I was very close with the people for whom we performed that free show, I couldn't comprehend why we couldn't book both shows. Time and again, Tony told me I was making things “very awkward” between him and his friend who asked us to do their show. In the end, I discovered that this friend was fine with us doing both shows. However, by then, with only a week before the Last In Line show, they had already found someone else to co-headline. This situation ultimately led to Orbynot losing some of its original lineup. It was disheartening, but you don't give up on what your heart beats and bleeds for. Heartbreak, setbacks, and agony are all part of anything worth doing, right?


Fast forward two years later to this performance. My friend, who initially offered to pay us to open for Last In Line, informed me that he wanted to provide me with an opportunity of my own. He was understandably hurt when Tonybro rejected his offer years ago. You make allowances for the various quirks of the people in your life, and, quite honestly, Tony often had a generally negative attitude, frequently directing it toward inexplicable targets. The slap in the face of being turned down for that incredible offer still makes me cringe today. At the time, I was convinced I was the picture of equanimity, inwardly smiling while tolerating my friend’s little quirks. I thought I was a dedicated friend! I didn’t consider myself an enabler of toxicity—not at all.


Saying that I view my participation in Tonybro’s behavior and actions differently now would be an understatement.


I was never the calming presence, the lone woman in the room who could offer a more reasonable perspective. I wasn’t even another person—I felt like a pawn, an object, a possession for Tonybro to use as he pleased. Looking back, that feeling we all know? Being the only woman in the room? Yes, the metal scene is mixed and has fans from all genders and backgrounds, and we’re aware of that. However, in the daily grind of metal life—band practices, recording sessions, meetings with producers, booking agents, and various types of agents—it often feels like you’re the only woman there. It builds up over time, and in my case, it amounted to being a pawn, an object for Tony to manipulate. I have paid dearly for allowing myself to be put in that position.


Amazingly, I still had friends. Thank God! A friend in Last In Line felt it was important to offer me an opportunity, especially since Tony made it clear that Orbynot would not welcome any generous overtures. He offered to buy nearly every single ticket for the show, telling me to give them to friends and family, which completely alleviated my obligation as a performer. He also said that I would get to sing any Dio or Last In Line song I wanted during their soundcheck! This was an opportunity I simply could not refuse. I was shocked that, despite this generous arrangement, it still didn’t make Tony proud or happy. However, once I insisted on going over the finances for the show, he agreed to play with me.


When November 9, 2019, arrived, I was nothing but smiles. However, that didn't stop my boyfriend at the time—who was our drummer, and with whom I felt obligated to stay, which I now realize is an entirely different “metal matter”—from picking a fight with me that day. He couldn’t just be proud and happy for me; he had to be mean and jealous. When I sang ‘Rainbow In The Dark’ with Last In Line/Dio, my life was forever changed. How did I achieve so much? How lucky was I?


Tonybro made his displeasure known. According to him, I had made a million mistakes. My boyfriend criticized my “mic technique,” so at least I had some constructive feedback to take away from the experience.


On one hand, I felt this spelled the end of my time in Orbynot because they simply could not see my true value, while Last In Line did. On the other hand, I also felt I achieved an important goal in my life. Most importantly, looking back, I can identify the mistakes I made myself. This was just one event, but it illustrates how the metal scene can turn chaotic. The thing we love that brings us together is also governed by a toxic environment; you're “making drama” if you disagree with being friendly with colleagues, and you’re “making drama” if you question why we can’t just play both shows. Most of all, you’re “making drama” if you achieve any kind of success or accomplishment for yourself. We’re not normal, regular friends who are happy for each other’s happiness. We’re metal.


Stay tuned for my next big project. I’m on to bigger and better things. And to all of the fans, I promise I will never give up. You are why we do what we do.


Here is a video where I narrate my article and provide commentary. https://youtu.be/0C5LJTp3vRY?si=obZZ4Z5MPsylH6Uh

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