"A true believer, sharp as a knife, heart of gold." A tribute to Michelle Kerr, the ass-kicking, passionate PR legend who helped shape modern metal as we know it
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On Saturday, September 14, Michelle Kerr, renowned PR for the likes of Slipknot, Slayer, Megadeth, Nickelback, Black Stone Cherry and more, died aged 56 following a five-year battle with cancer.
The news of Michelle's passing sparked an immediate and widespread outpouring of grief across the metal scene, with many of the artists, peers and colleagues she had spent decades working with flooding to social media to pay tribute.
"I always considered her a cross between Elizabeth Taylor and Lemmy," said Machine Head frontman Robb Flynn. "She was an undeniable bad ass! And she could drink me and all of my friends under the table! Smart, funny, tough, loyal, she was simply one of the best humans I've ever come across in my life."
"You’ve inspired me more than you’ll ever know," stated Hatebreed's Jamey Jasta. "The world needs more people like you - rock solid, no-nonsense, always looking for solutions and pushing through the hardest times. A true soldier of rock who did so much for so many."
If Michelle's passing was a shock to everyone, the reaction it ignited is of no surprise. A constant of the metal industry from the early 90s, Michelle was one of the biz's most formidable yet passionate personalities, her famous zero-bullshit tolerance policy and unimpeachable willingness to knock heads only outshone by her huge heart, relentless love for the game and the deep care she had for the artists she represented.
"Michelle was a towering figure," says Alexander Milas, former Metal Hammer Editor-In-Chief who worked at the magazine from 2006-2016. "You may not have known her, but if you've paid attention to metal or the pages of Metal Hammer this century, then you'll know her monumental body of work.
"She could wrangle the biggest, the best, the gnarliest, the beastliest figures both on and off the stage. She was a pro who commanded respect, a fearless warrior who could bend the chaotic world of music to her will, an ally and a friend when you needed one. All heart, a true believer, sharp as a knife, heart of gold - she genuinely cared about doing the right thing and doing right by the people she worked with."
Born in Eastbourne and spending most of her early years around Seaford and East Sussex, by her teens Michelle had nurtured a passion for music and a keen interest in art; at one point, she had her sights set on a degree in typographic design. "When I was in sixth form, my two great loves were music and art," she told Metal Hammer in an interview in 1996. "I made the mistake of going up to Nottingham for the summer and just fell in love with Nottingham, Rock City and all the stuff that was going on up there. I called my mother and said: 'Mum, I'm turning the degree course down.' She nearly had a coronary!".
Instead, she embarked upon a career in rock music, landing her first role as a press assistant at independent punk label Jungle Records, where she found herself working with the likes of ex-New York Dolls guitarist Johnny Thunders, UK Subs and Christian Death. "It was quite a good way for somebody like me to learn," she said. "I was doing typing for the directors, and making all the tea and all that rubbish, but when they had a release out I'd make the calls and send out the press and do all that stuff as well."
After 18 months, Michelle went to work with heavyweight UK publicist Sharon Chevin, where she spent four years handling press for the likes of Whitney Houston, Billy Idol and The Cult. "She was amazing," Sharon says now. "You know when someone walks in and you just click? And I'm a tough cookie, I am not easy to work for, because I expect people to get on with it; we got on from the second she walked in. She was a great worker, she was solid, reliable, loyal, worked really hard, and she just got it. She taught me a bit about heavier rock, because we were doing Whitney, The Cult, Yes, Tom Petty...she was much heavier [in her tastes]."
While working with Sharon, Michelle indulged her love for heavy music by freelance writing for Metal Hammer, teaming up with Denise Stillie under the moniker of The Technicolour Twins. They became a beloved part of the magazine's DNA, injecting it with a (literal) splash of colour. Michelle also embraced the lifestyle that came hand-in-hand with dabbling in the metal industry.
"We partied long but we worked hard," says Prog Magazine Editor Jerry Ewing, who had known Michelle since the late 80s and was working for Metal Hammer while Michelle was a contributor there. "Whilst PRs and music journalists are intrinsically linked, they aren’t similar disciplines and just because you may be good at one does not mean you’ll be good at the other. Many trying to make the switch failed. Not Michelle. She could see things from both sides, which made her an increasingly efficient and later quite brilliant PR, because she could walk it like she talked it."
Perhaps it was fate that Michelle's next move would see her become an intrinsic part of metal's next major cultural shift. Moving to Roadrunner Records in the early 90s, Michelle was tasked with working alongside a new generation of exciting, boundary-pushing young bands that were taking heavy music forwards.
“When Michelle applied for the PR job at Roadrunner, I only knew her as one half of Metal Hammer’s Technicolour Twins," says Mark Palmer, former MD at Roadrunner UK. "However, it soon became obvious that she was much better-suited to a life on the opposite side of journalism. Michelle started in the mid-90s - years that were arguably Roadrunner’s most creative and innovative. She built a mutually respectful and enduring relationship with many bands during that time, backed up by her badass, no-bullshit attitude."
"Like all of us at RR back then, Michelle had fire in her belly to deliver the goods for the artists whom we felt personally responsible for," says fellow Roadrunner alumni Stefan Koster. "From Sepultura to Machine Head, from Type O Negative to Fear Factory, from Dog Eat Dog to Life of Agony, then later on from Slipknot to Nickelback and so many more. I doubt that any artist who worked with Michelle wasn't full of gratitude to have this fierce fighter in their corner. She was an inspiring person to work with."
Michelle's straight-shooting, no-nonsense MO and fierce loyalty to the artists she worked with made her the perfect middlewoman between those aforementioned bands and the press outlets splashing them across their pages. In 1998, when Roadrunner signed Slipknot - arguably the biggest ever band to be nurtured by the label - it was no surprise when Michelle took the reins of their UK press campaigns. "Her love for Slipknot? Next level," says Cory Brennan, CEO of the band's management company, 5B. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen her care more about a band or its members."
"It was my honor to work with Michelle for over 25 years," says Slipknot frontman Corey Taylor. "She was one of my best friends in the industry. I never knew a person with such equal parts passion and integrity before I met her, and it showed in her work. Every time adversity came her way, she rose above it and found the way towards triumph, laughing all the way. From our propensity for good loud music to our love for steakhouses and gatherings with friends, I was so fortunate to drink, laugh, break bread and bones with her and I miss her so much. I’m so lucky to have known her. I’m so lucky to have called her my friend."
By the turn of the Millennium, Michelle's artists were beginning to dominate the front covers of Metal Hammer and Kerrang!, the rock industry's two pre-eminent print magazines.
"Michelle had a vital way of getting the artist cooperation that you needed," explains Chris Ingham, who was Editor and later Publisher/MD at Metal Hammer between 2000-2015. "You could depend upon her to represent it, too. When Michelle finally agreed to say, 'I'll try and make that work', you knew that it wasn't an empty promise. As an Editor that was pure gold; many of Hammer's iconic, reputation-forming covers with Slipknot, Sepultura, Fear Factory and Machine Head would never have happened were it not for Michelle: herding a hyped-up, pre-stage Slipknot together for a cover shoot; getting an irritable Robb Flynn to wear camo make-up in a cold Kings Cross warehouse; persuading a cripplingly shy Burton C Bell to strip to the waist and don florescent paint..."
Chris points to one moment in particular that showcased Michelle's total intolerance of (usually male) ego: "A Metal Hammer awards aftershow was underway at the Astoria. Michelle had brought Joey and Paul from Slipknot out, and as the main host I'd said it'd be good to get a picture of us all. Michelle wasn't so sure, but I'd insisted and played a huffy card, which she had duly noted with a raised eyebrow. I should have known better.
"Michelle whispered to Paul and I could see him chuckling. Paul was in possession of what he called 'the leveller': a diver's snorkel filled with a toxic mix of J?germeister, Jack Daniel's and Coke. As you said hi and got your selfie, he would mug you by shoving the snorkel into your mouth and opening the lock valve. You'd have to down an entire blowpipe of evil black liquid in one go, or watch it splash all over your face and bestest awards shirt in front of everyone. It only went one way. 'I warned you,' said Michelle, 'Don't play Billy Big Bollocks with me!'"
This writer can vouch for Michelle's lack of patience for macho Editor posturing. During my early days at Terrorizer magazine, I was hanging around an Opeth cover shoot with her and whinging about the stack of magazines waiting in the office that I had to personally envelope, stamp and post out. "Surely I can find an intern or someone to do all that?!" I whined. "Oh, fuck off," Michelle shot back with a trademark eye-roll. "We've got to do all that stuff all the time. You're never too big for the proper jobs."
Not for the first time, nor the last, as was the case in so many scenarios, she was right. Years later, when Editor of Metal Hammer, I'd simply stand back and marvel, over and over again, at her ability to shepherd the most unwieldy rock stars into getting exactly what the magazine needed - as long as she believed in it as much as we did.
"She understood what we needed but she also understood how bands operated and where the line was," confirms John McMurtrie, longtime Metal Hammer photographer. "She clearly respected all her artists but she wasn’t scared of them or their management. That said, she wasn’t afraid to say no to pushy photographers either! If Michelle said it was happening, it happened. If she said it wasn’t happening then it definitely wasn’t happening - regardless of how much moaning you did. You knew where you stood with Michelle."
It wasn't just her bulletproof organisational skills and willingness to give bands and journalists alike a kick up the ass that made her such a vital cog in the heavy metal machine: Michelle really did adore the world of the music she worked in, her trademark pink hair streaks and leather get-up marking her out as every bit the rock star as the artists she represented. It wasn't a front: she lived it.
"When you see pictures of rock stars on the cover of magazines, you don’t always think about the people behind the scenes that make it happen," says Wednesday 13, frontman of Murderdolls. "Michelle Kerr was our rockstar behind the scenes, and looked it too. She was as proud as the bands when it came to getting a cover or a feature in a magazine. She fought for it like she was in the band and demanded the best. She believed in making dreams come true, and she made mine a reality more than once. Michelle was a bigger rock star than most of the rock stars she represented. If you knew her and were a friend, you were lucky."
Michelle's relentless passion for her bands and deep understanding of the craft of PR had a profound effect on those around her; the music industry of 2024 is flooded with people who took significant inspiration from their time working under her.
"I didn’t know a huge amount about the more extreme end of metal," says William Luff, who today represents the likes of Iron Maiden, Bryan Adams, Within Temptation and Skunk Anansie, but took his first steps into rock PR working under Michelle at Roadrunner in the 90s. "Machine Head and Fear Factory were a whole new realm for me," he explains. "Yet in Michelle I quickly discovered a person who not only lived and breathed metal, but could communicate her belief and passion for it better than anyone else.
"She introduced me to everyone who was anyone in the world of rock and metal," William continues. "We laughed and gossiped and played music, and went on trips together to see our bands play. Through her I got to know music journalists from dozens of publications, many of whom I still work with - and am friends with - today. I learned how to pitch stories, write press releases and weave the wonderful spells of music PR."
"When I started at Roadrunner, I recall feeling a bit intimidated but also felt that as we were aligned on many topics, I had nothing to worry about," recalls Nuclear Blast Records' Lisa Cope, who worked with Michelle at Roadrunner from 2010-2012. "Until the day I declared that Comic Sans should be banned... I thought she was about to scale the bookshelf between our desks and lynch me when I said that! Thankfully, it was all in jest. Although just a funny story I recall from the start of our working relationship, it was one of the first times I saw how passionate Michelle was when she believed in something. In my years of working with her, I always felt she had my back and would be in my corner fighting the good fight with me."
In 2012, Roadrunner was merged into powerhouse major label Warner, and its UK offices were closed down in a move that stunned the rock industry. Without missing a beat, Michelle and her close friend and longtime Roadrunner partner, Kirsten Sprinks, set up Cosa Nostra PR, bringing with them the majority of their Roadrunner roster. That metal heavyweights such as Slipknot, Machine Head, Lamb Of God, Killswitch Engage and Trivium didn't think twice about continuing their relationships with the duo spoke volumes of the trust, appreciation and mutual respect that had been built along the way.
As the metal industry continued to evolve, so did Cosa Nostra. In the 2010s, they began working with Bloodstock Open Air, the UK's biggest independent metal festival. Michelle and Kirsten's strong, decades-long relationships with heavy music's frontrunners played a vital role in Bloodstock's growth and evolution.
"Michelle was much more than just the PR Bloodstock worked with," says Bloodstock's Director, Adam Gregory. "Over the years, she very quickly became part of the Bloodstock family. Michelle had so much foresight, energy and passion for this industry and was loved by so many worldwide. I struggle to think of anyone else who could leave such a fond and lasting impression on everyone she met along the way."
Michelle refused to let her cancer diagnosis define the final years of her life: it was a year into her treatment that she first publicly acknowledged that she had been fighting the disease, a rare form of sarcoma, using the opportunity to raise funds for a vital CT scanner for the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital. Typically, she approached the whole thing with the kind of no-bullshit mantra that defined her career, continuing her PR duties and remaining a staple of the metal gig circuit.
"After one round of treatment, we got chatting at the tiny Slipknot show at Maida Vale in 2020," says current Metal Hammer Editor, Eleanor Goodman. "She said it was nice to be out doing something normal. I laughed without thinking, knowing outsiders’ perceptions of a band that wear masks and scream. It was normal, she said, for her. I was always in awe of her resilience."
When news of Michelle's passing arrived on Sunday, it sent shockwaves through the industry, not least because so few people knew her illness was getting worse; true to form, she had no time for fuss, even (perhaps especially) when it came to her own health. The Michelle the world will remember will remain the one we all knew and loved dearly. The ultimate heavy metal asskicker with a heart of gold: fierce, smarter than anyone else in the room, always inspiring and never anything less than real.
“Michelle was a one-of-a-kind person, someone who was in my life for 29 years," says DevilDriver and Coal Chamber frontman, Dez Fafara. "I cannot think about the future without her; she was my champion. She was my hero. Her strength and fortitude when either starting her own business or dealing with her health should be an example for all to follow. Michelle was honest and just in her assertions about people and bands. She could see right through you, which is a gift in this life. She was a tireless worker for the heavy metal and music community, who believed in her bands. She was my friend, and I will miss her forever.
"She had a smirk that was not quite a smile, which I adored," Dez adds. "She was an incredibly deep thinker who could engage you on any philosophical topic - I loved that about her. She said to me just two weeks ago, 'I really wish I could stick around; things are just getting interesting.' This was how she was: always thinking and saying something poignant."
A fundraiser has been set up to cover the costs of Michelle's ashes being laid to rest in the cemetery in her beloved Highgate, as well as the costs of a special memorial bench on Hampstead Heath. You can donate here.
