A nostalgic collector’s reflection on Warlock, womanhood, vinyl, and the moment metal cracked open forever. There are moments in a metalhead’s life that don’t just stay with you — they brand themselves into your memory like a hot iron. For me, one of those moments happened in the most unlikely state of mind: bleary‑eyed, slightly wobbly, stumbling home after a long night of “lemonade” with friends. The sun wasn’t up yet, the birds weren’t even considering it, and my brain was
