To accurately describe Zakk Wylde’s playing style, his electric guitar tone, his ability to impress his Beyond Thunderdome berserker persona upon the instrument, you occasionally have appropriate the language of the cryptozoological.
It’s like he belongs to a different taxonomy from the rest of us, from somewheres mythical. And yet sitting here in a hotel bar on Denmark Street, London, at the epicentre of the city’s guitar culture, he is reassuringly human, flesh and blood, who like the rest of us runs on caffeine judging by the size of the espresso he is nursing.
