This Is The End By Chris Gramlich On a languid Sunday afternoon in the summer of 1999, I saw the future of metal. Not in Boston or New York. It wasn't in Toronto, Philadelphia or New Jersey, but in the most unexpected of places: Brampton, Ontario. At a tiny Legionnaires Hall called the Irish Centre in Brampton's industrial section was where I first witnessed the End. It was the band's second-ever show, and by their various band shirts, immature demeanour and youthful appearance, they could have been any local band borrowing the mini-van to play an all-ages matinee. That was, of course, until they started playing. In a short, terrifying set of aural and visual obliteration, the End unleashed a collision of frantic grindcore-style runs, unorthodox jazz-inspired chords, bloodcurdling screams, flailing limbs and nearly decimated gear. By the end of their set, guitarist Andrew Hercules sat slumped on the floor, blood pouring profusely from a cut on his head ? he'd been tagged by a stray, flailing guitar during the performance. The End had served notice that they were ones to watch. Five years later, sitting in a downtown Toronto bar eating nachos and drinking beer with Andrew and vocalist Aaron Wolff (the End is rounded out by guitarist Steve Watson, bassist Sean Dooley and drummer Anthony Salajko), it's clear that the End of today is a different beast than the talented but immature kids seen at that show. They have a newly inked record deal with underground metallic powerhouse