You only had a few choices of rock magazines at the convenience stores near us. Most prominent were Hit Parader, Rip, and Metal Edge. Over the years, I bought plenty of Metal Edge. Black and white pages thick with interviews and lists, punctuated by locker-ready full colour photos. Metal Edge were cool because they gave the time of day to all varieties of bands. They focused primarily on whatever-you-wanna-call-it: “hard rock”, or “glam” or “hair metal”. If you needed a fix of Sebastian Bach, Metal Edge delivered. But they covered just about everybody, into the grunge and alterna-metal years. At the center of it all was editor Gerri Miller.
Everybody who bought heavy metal magazines knew a few key names. Gerri Miller was the only female among them. We knew her face and jet black hair from the photos.
What little I knew about Gerri Miller came from her magazine. The product that she made, that we consumed every page of. She put out a good magazine. I enjoyed the Metal Edge “specials”. They’d collect all their best Bon Jovi, Kiss or Poison content and put out a dedicated magazine, usually to celebrate a new album. It was not much better than going to the cottage for a week-long vacation with a fresh Metal Edge magazine under my arm.
According to the (unrelated) Metal Sludge website, Miller had been battling Lupus for several years, and was recently diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.
Rest in peace Gerri…and fuck cancer.