
Inside Denise Richards and Aaron Phypers' ‘toxic' reality show as crew members reveals ‘tense couple barely spoke'
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DENISE Richards and Aaron Phypers' reality TV show was "toxic" behind the scenes and the former couple barely spoke, according to reports.
Phypers, 52, filed for divorce from Richards on July 7, three days after they had an explosive fight.
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Staff on Denise Richards and Aaron Phypers' reality show have spoken about its 'toxic' environment
Credit: Getty Images - Getty
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Phypers was caught on camera chastising Richards in an episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills in 2020
Credit: Bravo
Actress Richards, 54, has accused Phypers of carrying out domestic violence throughout their marriage and included a picture of herself with a black eye, allegedy caused by Phypers, in recent court documents.
She also claimed in the papers that he "threatened to kill her and caused her at least three concussions."
Phypers has denied her claims, telling US Weekly, "Let me be unequivocally clear: I have never physically or emotionally abused Denise — or anyone.
"These accusations are completely false and deeply hurtful. Denise and I, like many couples, have faced our share of challenges, but any suggestion of abuse is categorically untrue.
"I have always tried to approach our marriage with love, patience, and respect. I ask for privacy as we navigate personal matters, and I hope that the public and media will refrain from spreading harmful and baseless claims.'
Phypers has since accused Richards of cheating on him in an interview with TMZ and of lashing out when he confronted her.
Now insiders on their reality show, Denise Richards & Her Wild Things, which aired earlier this year, have spoken out about the tense atmosphere on set.
"You could cut tension with a knife sometimes," one source told the Daily Mail.
The insider said the pair "wouldn't speak to each other off camera" if they'd had an argument the evening before and they would often spend time in separate rooms.
On one occasion Phypers allegedly muttered about Richards going through the menopause when she fluffed her lines.
Denise Richards' husband Aaron Phypers files for divorce after 6 years together
The shady alleged comments were said to be a regular occurrence and made crew members uncomfortable, the source told the Mail.
While businessman Phypers played the perfect husband when the cameras were rolling, he is said to have felt 'very threatened' by Richards' fame.
The insiders said Phypers had a big ego and "walked around as if he was the biggest star on the planet when we were filming."
The Sun has contacted Phypers and Richards for comment.
The pair's concerning alleged dynamic was caught on hot mic on a 2020 episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
As Phypers and Richards walked off following a row with Teddi Mellencamp and Kyle Richards, Phypers said, "Don't tell me what to say. I'm going to crush your f*****g hand. Stop it."
Richards alleges that she suffered physical and verbal abuse throughout her seven-year marriage, including strikes to her head and face and degrading profanities, according to court documents obtained by The U.S. Sun.
"Throughout our relationship, Aaron would frequently violently choke me, violently squeeze my head with both hands, tightly squeeze my arms, violently slap me in my face and head, aggressively slam my head into the bathroom rack, threaten to kill me," Richards said in court documents.
"Aaron regularly threatened to 'break my jaw' and would cry, beg me to stay, and promise to get help - none of which ever happened," the actress added.
"Aaron has caused me at least three concussions. Aaron has told me that he has left recording devices to record me while I was alone in hotel rooms and at my townhouses."
Most recently, she alleged in court docs that on July 4, over the course of two hours, Phypers repeatedly "got within two inches of my face and screamed at me degrading profanities, including calling me a c**t, whore, and a piece of s**t."
Richards added: "Aaron's actions were scaring me to the point that, as with nearly all of Aaron's abuse of me, I was afraid that Aaron may kill me."
The Wild Things actress claimed she never called law enforcement on her husband because Aaron "threatened to kill himself" if she reported him, she said in court documents.
Richards claimed in court docs Phypers would hack her laptop and phone and download all of her text messages.
Phypers told TMZ he found out about Richards' alleged hookup with another man earlier this year, when he discovered text messages on her laptop.
He claimed the messages included selfies and plans for "rendezvous at a hotel".
He said he confronted Richards about the alleged affair and they decided to work it out and stay together.
But a huge fight over the July 4 weekend prompted him to file for divorce.
He also claimed that his phone went missing for more than 24 hours and later found it smashed to pieces in a bin.
Phypers told the outlet he questioned Richards about the phone but she alletedly "hit and scratched him".
VICIOUS ATTACK
During an incident on January 17, 2022, Richards alleged in court docs that Phypers viciously used the heel of his palm to strike her in her left eye, causing massive swelling and bruising.
Richards claimed that moments before the incident, Phypers became "paranoid" claiming that several potted plants he had just purchased for his workspace contained listening devices.
The actress said Phypers began screaming and that's when a police officer, who would regularly station in the parking lot of the Malibu property, approached the door.
However, after the officer left, Richards alleged in court docs that Phypers continued screaming then "used the heel of his palm to strike me in the eye while calling me a 'f**king b***h.'"
Richards claimed a family member witnessed the attack, which caused significant bruising to form around her left eye.
"The bruising took a month to heal. I had to cancel two professional meetings and rely on a makeup artist - who was aware of the situation - to cover the injury for an unavoidable work obligation," she added in the docs.
She claimed her husband insisted she tell others that she had "walked into a piece of his equipment stored on the building's balcony."
A judge granted Richards a temporary restraining order against Phypers that will last until August 8, when the estranged couple are due in court.
Phypers was ordered to stay 100 yards from Richards' home, place of work and vehicle.
He was also ordered to return her laptops and everything he downloaded from her phone.
DIVORCE SHOCK
The U.S. Sun previously reported that Richards was caught by surprise when she learned about Phypers' divorce filing.
Sources close to the former Housewives of Beverly Hills star said she felt "utterly betrayed."
"She never in a million years wanted to get another divorce and she never in a million years thought he would do this to her," the insider told The U.S. Sun in early July.
"It's a betrayal; he promised he would never do this. She made it crystal clear to him thousands of times that they could work through anything no matter how big the problem but divorce was never an option.
"He agreed. Then did this. There's more questions than answers right now."
Phypers is requesting spousal support to continue with their lavish lifestyle, which cost over $105,000 a month, according to court papers filed in Los Angeles.
"Denise thinks it's egregious he is seeking spousal support from her after she has been financially supporting him all these years," the source added.
'She thought he was different but turns out he's what people warned her about.'
If you or someone you know is affected by any of the issues raised in this story, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or chat at thehotline.org.
4
Richards accused Phypers of domestic violence
Credit: Superior Court of California
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Scotsman
2 hours ago
- Scotsman
is it still a metal classic or has it aged like milk?
This article contains affiliate links. We may earn a small commission on items purchased through this article, but that does not affect our editorial judgement. Has Fear Factory's Demanufacture stood the test of time or, as the prosecution accuse, become a 'flimsy structure' for metal to follow? Sign up to our daily newsletter Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to Edinburgh News, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Fear Factory's 1995 album Demanufacture is widely considered a landmark in metal, but its legacy remains fiercely debated. Accusations range from being overly mechanistic and cold to lacking the warmth and organic feel of traditional metal Is it a pioneering work guilty of derailing a genre, or is it a misunderstood masterpiece deserving of a dramatic re-evaluation? Today, we convene in the solemn chambers of public opinion to preside over a musical case that, while critically lauded in its time, has since been subjected to scrutiny, mischaracterisation, and perhaps, a failure to fully grasp its true impact. On trial: Demanufacture by Fear Factory, a 1995 release that arrived with the force of a hydraulic press, forging a path between industrial coldness and metallic brutality. Often cited as a pioneering work, it has also faced criticisms of being too rigid, too mechanical, and even, by some, too influential in ways that led to less desirable offshoots. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence, however, believes there is compelling evidence for its enduring genius and rightful place as a monumental achievement in heavy music. Before we delve into today's proceedings, let us set the scene. Is Fear Factory's Demanufacture a work of art, or is it merely a work of 'calculated aggression?' | Getty Images/Canva In the mid-1990s, the landscape of heavy music was in flux. Metal, in its traditional forms, was still powerful, but new hybrids were emerging, challenging conventions and setting the stage for what would become one of the decade's most defining, and often divisive, sounds: nu-metal. It was into this fertile, yet volatile, ground that Fear Factory emerged. Formed in Los Angeles in 1989, Fear Factory quickly distinguished themselves from their peers. Comprised of vocalist Burton C. Bell, guitarist Dino Cazares, bassist Christian Olde Wolbers, and drummer Raymond Herrera, the band forged a unique sound that relentlessly fused industrial machine-like precision with death metal's aggression and groove metal's rhythmic drive. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad They built a reputation for pioneering a distinct rhythmic assault, often employing blast beats, double bass drumming, and heavily palm-muted guitar riffs that sounded more like percussive machinery than traditional shredding. Their lyrical themes, consistently exploring the uneasy relationship between man and machine, technology and humanity, carved out a distinct conceptual identity that resonated with a generation grappling with the digital age. It was in 1995 that Fear Factory released their second studio album, Demanufacture. Upon its arrival, it was heralded by many as a ground-breaking work, a bold leap forward that redefined the boundaries of extreme music. However, over the years, Demanufacture has become a subject of considerable controversy and debate. While praised for its innovation and brutal efficiency, it has also been accused of being cold, sterile, and overly mechanical, with critics questioning its emotional depth and whether its influential sound inadvertently paved the way for more simplistic and less organic forms of metal. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad To truly analyse its impact and legacy – and to confront these long-standing accusations – we are today putting Demanufacture on 'musical trial' in the court of public opinion. Let the proceedings begin. In defence of: Fear Factory - Demanufacture The Charge The album, Demanufacture by Fear Factory, stands accused of being a sterile, overly mechanistic, and emotionally cold blueprint for a wave of metal that prioritised rhythm and aggression over organic feel and nuanced musicianship, ultimately contributing to a perceived dehumanisation of the genre. The Prosecution Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we are presented today with an album that, on the surface, might appear to be a marvel of precision and force. Indeed, upon its release, Demanufacture was met with considerable acclaim. But I submit to you that this very precision, this relentless, machine-gun rhythm, this calculated coldness, is precisely its greatest sin. The evidence will demonstrate that Demanufacture, for all its apparent innovation, presented a stark, almost unfeeling vision of metal. The drumming, while undeniably fast, often felt more like a programmed beat than the fluid expression of a human hand. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As one reviewer noted regarding drummer Raymond Herrera's work, it's "precision machine gun fire drum work," often raising questions of "whether his drum work is not redone to some extent with studio magic, because it is totally mind blowing, despite the fact that he rarely touches his cymbals." This "machine-like" quality, while impressive, sacrifices the organic warmth of human performance. The guitar riffs, precise and percussive, largely eschewed the melodic complexity and dynamic range that defined earlier eras of metal, reducing the instrument to a rhythmic hammer. Critics have pointed out that Demanufacture "doesn't try to wow you with high-pitched vocals or blazing guitar solos as this album features absolutely none of that." This minimalist approach to traditional metal elements, while a deliberate choice, stripped away much of the expressive freedom cherished by purists. Even the vocals, while shifting between guttural roars and clean, almost ethereal melodies, often contributed to an unsettling dichotomy rather than a cohesive emotional landscape, with some finding the clean vocals "somewhat off key" at times Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad We contend that this album, by "prioritising mechanisation over human elements" [paraphrased from general criticism], laid the groundwork for a future where metal became less about fiery passion and more about calculated aggression, paving the way for bands that would imitate its mechanical precision without capturing its conceptual ambition. It streamlined, it systematised, it... de-manufactured the very soul of heavy music, leading to a sound that, "while powerful, often sounded very lifeless when compared to their later work" and "very compressed by today's standards." It set a precedent for a sound that, in less capable hands, often became predictable, repetitive, and ultimately, devoid of the human element. The defence may speak of innovation, but we will show you an album that, despite its power, ultimately sacrificed warmth and humanity for the cold, unyielding embrace of the machine. This album, we contend, is guilty of establishing a blueprint that, while powerful, often led metal astray. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence Members of the court of public opinion, I appreciate the arguments that the Prosecution has levied against the album, but I remind them of the state of metal at the time. This was in 1995, where the metal genre was just on the cusp of breaking into mainstream avenues through acts such as Korn, Limp Bizkit, and in later years, Linkin Park. Where some groups might have changed their formula to reflect the change in trends, I argue that Fear Factory "evolved" their sound not simply to be accessible for newer fans of the genre, but to ensure they did not alienate older fans of their industrial style. Demanufacture indeed sounds emotionally cold and lacks organic warmth; but that is precisely the point of the album. It's a meticulously crafted concept album about a man's struggles against a machine-controlled government, with each song a chapter in his life. As the band themselves stated, the album took its inspiration from the movie The Terminator, and within that context, the 'stark, unfeeling' nature of the album and lack of organic warmth is not a flaw, but a deliberate and essential artistic choice. This is an album that is meant to evoke emotions of technology taking over organic matter, and thus had to prioritise mechanisation over human elements. Not just that, but the very nature of industrial metal lends itself to having a cold, mechanical resonance to it, and I point to the likes of Nine Inch Nails or Godflesh as previous evidence of this aesthetic being central to the genre. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The charges of being lifeless and compressed, giving it a powerful, suffocating feel, are exactly the kind of emotions Fear Factory looked to evoke with the work. Again, members of the court, this is a concept album about technology taking over. The relentless, percussive guitaring perfectly compliments the blunt force nature of the drumming, giving listeners such as myself vivid images of mechanical presses, whirling machinery, and cold, metallic elements as part of the story's chilling narrative. This wasn't a flaw; it was a masterful sonic design choice that immersed the listener in the album's dystopian vision. As for the charge against Burton C. Bell's vocals, his performance perfectly embodies the album's themes of man versus machine. What the Prosecution labels as "off-key" is, I submit, an unfair and superficial judgment. The stark contrast between the desperate, vulnerable human element of Bell's clean singing and the cold, almost automated yells, demonstrates the harrowing duality of the album's core concept. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad It's the sound of humanity struggling for breath against an overwhelming, artificial perfection, and in many respects, a chilling premonition of what life, according to Demanufacture, has become. This vocal interplay isn't a weakness; it's a dynamic storytelling device, full of nuanced emotion that transcends simple melody. Furthermore, to label Demanufacture as a "harmful blueprint" that led metal "astray" is to fundamentally misunderstand its pioneering spirit. This album was not simply following trends; it was very much steadfast in the industrial metal blueprint, while expertly borrowing from the burgeoning groove metal scene that was popular at the time. That it didn't lead metal "astray" should be more of a testament to the importance of the record across the metal genre, rather than dismissing it as building "flimsy structures" going forwards. It's not Fear Factory's fault if other artists were inspired, influenced, or outright cribbed from them and produced second-rate imitations—much like it is unfair to blame The Beatles for a "flimsy structure" regarding the raft of British pop acts that followed them or an act like The Libertines being accused of laying a formula for what has been called these days as 'landfill indie.' True innovation, like that found on Demanufacture, always risks inspiring lesser imitations. This album's influence should be celebrated, not condemned, for opening new sonic pathways in heavy music. I rest my case, your honour(s) Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad What is your verdict on Fear Factory's 1995 album Demanufacture? Share if you're for or against the album by leaving a comment down below, and catch Fear Factory when they peform at Bloodstock Open Air 2025 in August 2025.


Scotsman
4 hours ago
- Scotsman
is it still a metal classic or has it aged like milk?
This article contains affiliate links. We may earn a small commission on items purchased through this article, but that does not affect our editorial judgement. Has Fear Factory's Demanufacture stood the test of time or, as the prosecution accuse, become a 'flimsy structure' for metal to follow? Sign up to our Arts and Culture newsletter Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Fear Factory's 1995 album Demanufacture is widely considered a landmark in metal, but its legacy remains fiercely debated. Accusations range from being overly mechanistic and cold to lacking the warmth and organic feel of traditional metal Is it a pioneering work guilty of derailing a genre, or is it a misunderstood masterpiece deserving of a dramatic re-evaluation? Today, we convene in the solemn chambers of public opinion to preside over a musical case that, while critically lauded in its time, has since been subjected to scrutiny, mischaracterisation, and perhaps, a failure to fully grasp its true impact. On trial: Demanufacture by Fear Factory, a 1995 release that arrived with the force of a hydraulic press, forging a path between industrial coldness and metallic brutality. Often cited as a pioneering work, it has also faced criticisms of being too rigid, too mechanical, and even, by some, too influential in ways that led to less desirable offshoots. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence, however, believes there is compelling evidence for its enduring genius and rightful place as a monumental achievement in heavy music. Before we delve into today's proceedings, let us set the scene. Is Fear Factory's Demanufacture a work of art, or is it merely a work of 'calculated aggression?' | Getty Images/Canva In the mid-1990s, the landscape of heavy music was in flux. Metal, in its traditional forms, was still powerful, but new hybrids were emerging, challenging conventions and setting the stage for what would become one of the decade's most defining, and often divisive, sounds: nu-metal. It was into this fertile, yet volatile, ground that Fear Factory emerged. Formed in Los Angeles in 1989, Fear Factory quickly distinguished themselves from their peers. Comprised of vocalist Burton C. Bell, guitarist Dino Cazares, bassist Christian Olde Wolbers, and drummer Raymond Herrera, the band forged a unique sound that relentlessly fused industrial machine-like precision with death metal's aggression and groove metal's rhythmic drive. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad They built a reputation for pioneering a distinct rhythmic assault, often employing blast beats, double bass drumming, and heavily palm-muted guitar riffs that sounded more like percussive machinery than traditional shredding. Their lyrical themes, consistently exploring the uneasy relationship between man and machine, technology and humanity, carved out a distinct conceptual identity that resonated with a generation grappling with the digital age. It was in 1995 that Fear Factory released their second studio album, Demanufacture. Upon its arrival, it was heralded by many as a ground-breaking work, a bold leap forward that redefined the boundaries of extreme music. However, over the years, Demanufacture has become a subject of considerable controversy and debate. While praised for its innovation and brutal efficiency, it has also been accused of being cold, sterile, and overly mechanical, with critics questioning its emotional depth and whether its influential sound inadvertently paved the way for more simplistic and less organic forms of metal. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad To truly analyse its impact and legacy – and to confront these long-standing accusations – we are today putting Demanufacture on 'musical trial' in the court of public opinion. Let the proceedings begin. In defence of: Fear Factory - Demanufacture The Charge The album, Demanufacture by Fear Factory, stands accused of being a sterile, overly mechanistic, and emotionally cold blueprint for a wave of metal that prioritised rhythm and aggression over organic feel and nuanced musicianship, ultimately contributing to a perceived dehumanisation of the genre. The Prosecution Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we are presented today with an album that, on the surface, might appear to be a marvel of precision and force. Indeed, upon its release, Demanufacture was met with considerable acclaim. But I submit to you that this very precision, this relentless, machine-gun rhythm, this calculated coldness, is precisely its greatest sin. The evidence will demonstrate that Demanufacture, for all its apparent innovation, presented a stark, almost unfeeling vision of metal. The drumming, while undeniably fast, often felt more like a programmed beat than the fluid expression of a human hand. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As one reviewer noted regarding drummer Raymond Herrera's work, it's "precision machine gun fire drum work," often raising questions of "whether his drum work is not redone to some extent with studio magic, because it is totally mind blowing, despite the fact that he rarely touches his cymbals." This "machine-like" quality, while impressive, sacrifices the organic warmth of human performance. The guitar riffs, precise and percussive, largely eschewed the melodic complexity and dynamic range that defined earlier eras of metal, reducing the instrument to a rhythmic hammer. Critics have pointed out that Demanufacture "doesn't try to wow you with high-pitched vocals or blazing guitar solos as this album features absolutely none of that." This minimalist approach to traditional metal elements, while a deliberate choice, stripped away much of the expressive freedom cherished by purists. Even the vocals, while shifting between guttural roars and clean, almost ethereal melodies, often contributed to an unsettling dichotomy rather than a cohesive emotional landscape, with some finding the clean vocals "somewhat off key" at times Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad We contend that this album, by "prioritising mechanisation over human elements" [paraphrased from general criticism], laid the groundwork for a future where metal became less about fiery passion and more about calculated aggression, paving the way for bands that would imitate its mechanical precision without capturing its conceptual ambition. It streamlined, it systematised, it... de-manufactured the very soul of heavy music, leading to a sound that, "while powerful, often sounded very lifeless when compared to their later work" and "very compressed by today's standards." It set a precedent for a sound that, in less capable hands, often became predictable, repetitive, and ultimately, devoid of the human element. The defence may speak of innovation, but we will show you an album that, despite its power, ultimately sacrificed warmth and humanity for the cold, unyielding embrace of the machine. This album, we contend, is guilty of establishing a blueprint that, while powerful, often led metal astray. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The defence Members of the court of public opinion, I appreciate the arguments that the Prosecution has levied against the album, but I remind them of the state of metal at the time. This was in 1995, where the metal genre was just on the cusp of breaking into mainstream avenues through acts such as Korn, Limp Bizkit, and in later years, Linkin Park. Where some groups might have changed their formula to reflect the change in trends, I argue that Fear Factory "evolved" their sound not simply to be accessible for newer fans of the genre, but to ensure they did not alienate older fans of their industrial style. Demanufacture indeed sounds emotionally cold and lacks organic warmth; but that is precisely the point of the album. It's a meticulously crafted concept album about a man's struggles against a machine-controlled government, with each song a chapter in his life. As the band themselves stated, the album took its inspiration from the movie The Terminator, and within that context, the 'stark, unfeeling' nature of the album and lack of organic warmth is not a flaw, but a deliberate and essential artistic choice. This is an album that is meant to evoke emotions of technology taking over organic matter, and thus had to prioritise mechanisation over human elements. Not just that, but the very nature of industrial metal lends itself to having a cold, mechanical resonance to it, and I point to the likes of Nine Inch Nails or Godflesh as previous evidence of this aesthetic being central to the genre. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The charges of being lifeless and compressed, giving it a powerful, suffocating feel, are exactly the kind of emotions Fear Factory looked to evoke with the work. Again, members of the court, this is a concept album about technology taking over. The relentless, percussive guitaring perfectly compliments the blunt force nature of the drumming, giving listeners such as myself vivid images of mechanical presses, whirling machinery, and cold, metallic elements as part of the story's chilling narrative. This wasn't a flaw; it was a masterful sonic design choice that immersed the listener in the album's dystopian vision. As for the charge against Burton C. Bell's vocals, his performance perfectly embodies the album's themes of man versus machine. What the Prosecution labels as "off-key" is, I submit, an unfair and superficial judgment. The stark contrast between the desperate, vulnerable human element of Bell's clean singing and the cold, almost automated yells, demonstrates the harrowing duality of the album's core concept. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad It's the sound of humanity struggling for breath against an overwhelming, artificial perfection, and in many respects, a chilling premonition of what life, according to Demanufacture, has become. This vocal interplay isn't a weakness; it's a dynamic storytelling device, full of nuanced emotion that transcends simple melody. Furthermore, to label Demanufacture as a "harmful blueprint" that led metal "astray" is to fundamentally misunderstand its pioneering spirit. This album was not simply following trends; it was very much steadfast in the industrial metal blueprint, while expertly borrowing from the burgeoning groove metal scene that was popular at the time. That it didn't lead metal "astray" should be more of a testament to the importance of the record across the metal genre, rather than dismissing it as building "flimsy structures" going forwards. It's not Fear Factory's fault if other artists were inspired, influenced, or outright cribbed from them and produced second-rate imitations—much like it is unfair to blame The Beatles for a "flimsy structure" regarding the raft of British pop acts that followed them or an act like The Libertines being accused of laying a formula for what has been called these days as 'landfill indie.' True innovation, like that found on Demanufacture, always risks inspiring lesser imitations. This album's influence should be celebrated, not condemned, for opening new sonic pathways in heavy music. I rest my case, your honour(s) Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad


Scotsman
11 hours ago
- Scotsman
24 hours following the US President round Trump Turnberry
Sign up to our daily newsletter – Regular news stories and round-ups from around Scotland direct to your inbox Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... The last time I was at Donald Trump's Turnberry golf course, I camped on the resort. It was last June and I was battling a standard summer's day walking the Ayrshire coast with gale force winds so strong water from the sea was blowing in my face. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Repeating the experience during a return trip to document Mr Trump's visit to Scotland this week, however, was out of the question. Back then, Trump Turnberry was just Donald's. This time, the resort is the US President's. And he's currently staying in it. Vehicles from US President Donald Trump's motorcade make their way to Turnberry Golf Course | Getty Images It perhaps comes as no surprise there was a wall built for his visit; a 10ft metal barrier like a fortress blocking access to the luxury pile that is the Turnberry hotel, with some rooms costing £1,500 a night. The surrounding grounds were littered with side-eye police officers and Secret Service agents. Snipers were on display, with clusters of them atop watchtowers and standing on mounds on the golf course with their guns on show. I thought snipers were normally hidden. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Snipers on a watchtower with their guns | Katharine Hay Looking in another direction, I saw men clad in normal clothes among lines of officers down to the beachfront, staring me down from a distance as I crept closer to where Mr Trump might appear when out playing golf. I kept glancing back to see if they were still looking. They were. Thinking I could at least pitch my tent on the beach down from the golf course to document the Donald, the police followed me to tell me the sand was out of bounds and I had to walk about a mile down the road to a small campsite. 'You have to camp in an official campsite or you'll get moved on,' they said. The Saturday morning Mr Trump played golf, I was woken up at about 7am to a police helicopter flying overhead. The course was crawling with military and police officers by 8am, carrying out a sweep with sticks and sniffer dogs to remove whatever threat to the US President there could be lurking in the vegetation, including the world media, who were kept at a distance. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Donald Trump playing golf at Turnberry | Getty Images A slight antidote to the aggressive show of security was hearing some classics blaring from where the golf caddies were huddled, including Billy Joel's Uptown Girl, shortly after Mr Trump teed off at about 10am. This light-hearted image of the president, however, was quickly smeared after a punter said the sounds were likely played to drown out any potential hate Trump chants which occurred the last time he attended the resort as president. Security for Trump is stronger than ever following the attempted assassination at a campaign rally in the US last year. And against the backdrop of a barren, windswept beach on a grey, overcast weekend, the parade of varying officials surrounding this one man's visit looked excessive in a village of about 200 residents, particularly given the protest presence was minimal. A handful of demonstrators turned up on Friday night when Mr Trump was driven into Turnberry in his car dubbed 'the Beast'. While the MAGA supporters were also very low in numbers, represented perfectly by a lone fan drinking a can of coke standing next to an American flag on the road into Turnberry, I found the lack of noise about the president's visit telling. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad A lone Trump supporter awaiting the US President's arrival into Turnberry | Katharine Hay Sitting in the Balkenna Tea Room, about a mile from the golf course, locals spoke mainly about the road closures and ramped up police presence on the road than about Trump himself. Some described the security presence as 'overkill for a game of golf.' Balkenna Tea Room, just outside Turnberry | Katharine Hay While there was no obvious hype about 'the man,' as most were referring to Mr Trump, there was also no obvious hostility. Instead, there was more a 'business as usual' vibe in the local cafe over the weekend, which made me think there is a general acceptance of Mr Trump in the area. Karen Mckinlay, who lives in Glasgow, said she was visiting the village for the day in the hope of catching a glimpse of Mr Trump. 'I feel Ayr is predominantly for Trump,' she told me. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad 'A lot of them here follow his views on life and how he runs his country.' Asked why there was little to no turnout of supporters, she said: 'There's a Rangers game on today, so most of them will be there, including my husband.' Another woman, who lives locally, spotted my camera and, eyes wide, asked if I had managed to snap a picture of 'the Donald.' She told me how much she liked the Turnberry hotel before quizzing me on my accent. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Local resident Alan Weir and member of Turnberry Golf Club spoke to me about how much he felt the Trump family had done for the area and for Scotland. Almost spellbound when looking at the camera delivering a message to Trump, he said: 'Make Turnberry great again. You already have.' He said the hotel had brought a lot of people together and boosted the economy of the area. This weekend, however, the security takeover and wiry wall around the resort is blocking people out. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad