Trick or Treat

Hey Zoo Freaks, it's your bonfire-hearted Zoo Crew crackling in from the pumpkin-gutted glow of THE ZOO, where the cider's steaming and the shadows are doing a devilish jig. We're unleashing Fastway's "Trick or Treat" from that razor-edged soundtrack of the '86 fright-flick, and man, this riff-rattler is the perfect potion for a midnight haunt—Eddie Clarke's axe howling like a hellhound off the leash over Dave King's gravelly growl, all "Suddenly everything's alright, everything is cool... but someone's put a spell on me." Picture this: the band's knee-deep in the movie's moronic mayhem, cooking up the whole platter as a hard-hitting metal curse, with tracks like this title cut blasting over scenes of possessed turntables and teen torment. In a guest ramble for Mikeladano.com, one devotee called it a "complete artistic tour de force that will leave your soul shaken," while Sleaze Roxx quipped the album's straight-faced snarl makes the film's cheese even funnier—like Fastway's too busy rocking the apocalypse to wink at the camera. Fans on X are still summoning it this All Hallows', one post from a podcast crew spinning the vinyl with a "Happy Halloween" howl, another from a metalhead swearing it's the band's best brew, outshining even their debut thunder. And get this: the flick bombed like a dud firecracker, but the soundtrack clawed its way onto the Billboard 200 for eleven months, sparking in-fighting over the slim royalties—Eddie later griped in reissue notes about the "little money" that tore the pack apart. Ozzy's coked-up televangelist rant in the movie? Pure gold, with fans on Reddit cackling decades later how it echoes his own '80s lyric lunacy. It's gritty glam gone gothic, Zoo Freaks—like black licorice laced with lightning.

Now let's roll the reel back to the smoky backrooms of '82 London where two rock renegades first fused their fire, 'cause Fastway didn't just ignite—they exploded from the ashes of metal giants like a phoenix with a Les Paul. "Fast" Eddie Clarke, that Motörhead shredder who'd helped birth Lemmy's thunder in '76, was fresh off the road after a blowout bust-up, craving something bluesier than speed-metal spite. He ropes in Pete Way, UFO's bass wizard from '69, who'd been prowling the hard-rock wilds with Michael Schenker's screech, and together they christen Fastway—a no-brainer mash of their monikers—for a CBS deal that promised fresh fury. But fate fangs quick: Pete bolts for an Ozzy gig, tangled in Chrysalis chains, leaving Eddie to summon session cat Mickey Feat (uncredited on the slab) and Humble Pie's Jerry Shirley on the skins for their self-titled '83 debut. Enter Dave King, a raw-throated unknown from Dublin's dives—harmonica in pocket, fire in his belly—who seals the spell, belting hooks that cracked the charts and Kerrang! crowns. From there, it's a whirlwind: Taste's Richard McCracken slots in on bass for All Fired Up's arena roar, but touring tolls scatter the pack by '85, with Eddie and Dave rebuilding from the rubble for that Trick or Treat hex. Lineups churned like autumn leaves through the '80s haze—Shane Carroll's second axe, Paul Reid's low-end rumble—but Eddie's unyielding riffage kept the flame flickering till pneumonia claimed him in '18. From Motörhead mutiny to UFO underbelly, these lads proved a supergroup spark could blaze a blues-metal trail all its own.

If the treat's tempting your fangs, Zoo Freaks, scamper over to the official Fastway site for relic riffs, Eddie epics, and that fresh reissue glow that'll rattle your roots. Rally the riff-raiders on Facebook—eight thousand strong, swapping bootlegs and bayou yarns like old trail tales. No fresh Instagram or X haunts in the ether these days, but kindred spirits flicker on forums like the Steve Hoffman Music Forums thread for vinyl vows and rare reel reveries, or dive into the r/hairmetal subreddit for era echoes and earworm debates that'll tickle your third eye. Light the jack-o'-lantern, crank the curse, and let's trick the night till the veil lifts, my twilight troopers.