It was between the years 1981 and 1983, and Lamour was the hottest rock club in Brooklyn. My first memories of Glenn were from when I went to see him play in the band Dreamer. He didn’t need the spotlight on him—he was the spotlight of the show. He bashed the drums, headbanged, and gave 100% of his energy every single time.

When Nuclear Assault was looking for a drummer, a friend of mine who knew Glenn called me and told me he was no longer in TT Quick and was looking for a band.

I had flashbacks of how brutal of a drummer Glenn was, so my friend gave me his phone number, and I couldn’t wait to call him. When I did, we hit it off right away, and the audition was set up. After he played a few songs, my prayers were answered—there was no doubt in my mind that he was the perfect drummer for the band.

Glenn did everything to get the band rolling into high gear. He handled the business side, merchandise, and sold our first demo. He trademarked the name, copyrighted all of our songs, had a CDL license, bought a school bus, and drove it for years on our first few tours. This guy had big friggin’ balls to do all this for the band. Glenn was like a utility ballplayer who could play every position—except he was a utility drummer who could do it all.

To this day, I say to myself: I don’t know if we would have gone as far as we did without Glenn. He had the courage and determination to help the band get exposure. Back then, it was much harder to advertise without the internet. Without him, we might have been just another band playing clubs in our hometown, never venturing outside the state.

I want to personally thank Glenn for everything he did for the band—especially for being a great friend and a brother to me to this day.

God bless you, Glenn.

Yours truly,
Anthony Bramante