“The futility of war, globalization, the dawning of a new age and new world orders: yes, that was a metal show all right.”

Walking out of the venue late at night, with my ears ringing, and drenched from head to toe in – whatever - ,I feel something on the back of my neck which I find to be an extremely long human hair from someone else.

After a quick disgusted shudder, I remind myself, yes, that was a metal show.

On Sept. 19, metal pioneers, Megadeth, played to a surprisingly large fanatical crowd at the Rave. The group was supported by the lesser-known acts In the Moment and The Confession.

Megadeth, nearing 25 years of age, showed little change or deviation in form considering that a great deal of the audience was born after the release of the first album. While the band itself may have picked up a few pounds and wrinkles, lead singer Dave Mustaine looked and sounded as if he hadn’t aged a day since 1986.

To review an oft-repeated bit of rock lore, Mustaine was kicked out of the initial lineup of pre-Black Album Metallica for partying too hard, quite possibly the most credible and disconcerting badge of badass/crazy ever conceived by man.

Regardless, it illustrates the rather sordid past of the band, and the thrash metal genre at large.

However, metal seems as dead as dead gets in popular music today, and yet here it was found, almost entirely unchanged since the height of its popularity almost 20 years ago. What’s equally bizarre is that their message and lyrics still seem strangely relevant, a fact that Mustaine touched on during the show, as a commentary toward allegations that the band appeared obsolete or dated.

Songs like “Holy Wars…The Punishment Due” and “Peace Sells” seemed to take on a new relevance and invigorated spirit when touted and shouted by a sea of twenty-somethings dressed all in black, slamming and shoving each other.

The songs felt charged anew with modern grievances and global concerns, of which Mustaine has plenty to share. Lyrics like “killing for religion, something I don’t understand,” and “peace sells, but who’s buying?” still seem especially poignant, if not prophetic.

But let’s not get too carried away. There is still something universally pervasive and addicting about headbanging to thunderous rhythm guitar, pounding drums and machine-gun guitar solos in a sea of angry young males with a singular outlet for aggression and frustration.

There is a collective spirit at work. Upon somehow hurting my shoulder during the hilariously over the top “Hanger 18,” there was something truly humorous about being immediately helped and worried over by several surly-looking bikers and fellow misanthropes.

There was a sense of community there, a silent acknowledgment of origins on the fringes of society, yet brought together over an act most would regard with a hint of humorous condescension.

It was a truly unique experience, like a living time capsule that united young and old over the mutual love of formulaic speed guitar, screeching vocals and lyrics of a timeless content; the futility of war, globalization, the dawning of a new age and new world orders.

Yes, that was a metal show all right.

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