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Black Metal: Evolution of the Cult

Page 42

by Dayal Patterson


  Taking their moniker from the dramatic volcanic formations in Iceland known as the Dimmuborgir (meaning “dark cities/forts”), the band can probably take some of the credit (or perhaps blame) for kicking off the trend of unwieldy black metal band names, a tradition still going strong today.

  “It’s pronounced ‘Dim-moo-bor-geer,’” explains Silenoz, “but it’s an Icelandic word and the Icelandic would pronounce it differently to the way we do. We took the name because it was very different to other band names, then and even now, and we thought it was describing our music in a very good way, as our music was not so brutal at the time. There was more mystique surrounding the whole thing, so we felt that we were standing out compared to other bands and should therefore have a more peculiar name.”

  Indeed, though the trio had taken their first inspirations from eighties pioneers such as Celtic Frost and early Norwegian acts (as evident in recordings by Shagrath’s first band Fimbulwinter), the trio soon found their music unconsciously echoing an influence from those Norwegian groups who had shifted toward a more mysterious, melancholy, and atmospheric approach through the use of keyboards.

  “Fimbulwinter was more brutal, Dimmu Borgir is sad, it is made out of the deepest depression anyone can imagine,” Shagrath explained in an early interview in Thy Kingdom Come zine. “Our mission is the deepest sorrow and total loss of happiness… We want to make people understand that it is best to put an end to their misery. We like to think that our music is the one little thing that can push them off the edge.”

  “We started jamming and practiced cover songs—Tormentor, Mayhem, Darkthrone, stuff like that,” Silenoz recalls. “Then we started experimenting with our own stuff and saw that it was quite different to the covers we’d played. We figured out pretty early on that we would have a specific sound and expression. We saw other bands were experimenting with keyboards—Emperor, Enslaved, Gehenna—so it was kind of natural for us to pick up keyboards and try to incorporate that, as it was an element that was not heard much in that type of music. It was just done in the background, but once we started using keyboards we found we could incorporate them as a proper instrument and a tool for writing songs. I guess atmosphere was the main ingredient in everything we did, that’s been the red thread throughout our career.”

  By early 1994 the band’s lineup had expanded to a five-piece, with Tjodalv playing guitar, Silenoz contributing guitar and vocals, Shagrath playing drums, Brynjard Tristan (Ivar Tristan Lundsten) on bass, and on keyboards, one Stian Aarstad, a classically trained player whose role seems to have bordered on that of session member. Something of an enigma, as well as an outsider to the black metal scene, Stian stood out from the rest of his bandmates, using his birth name rather than a pseudonym, and exhibiting an idiosyncratic dress sense that not only included short hair and a limited use of face paint, but also a top hat and cape.

  “He was living very close and was a childhood friend,” Silenoz explains. “He had a little bit of training on keyboards and a weird style of playing which we felt fit. He wasn’t really involved in any of the writing ever. He’s got credit from fans saying he is such a great keyboard player—yeah, he might be a great keyboard player performing his instrument, but he was hardly ever present at rehearsals. When it came to studio work we would call him up and say, ‘You need to play this and this part,’ and he would come and then fuck off, he was not really part of anything, he was the obscure fifth member.”

  It was with this lineup that the band made their first recordings, and while they never released an official demo, they did issue a series of rehearsal tapes, with at least three appearing throughout 1994. Featuring a heavy use of synths and the atmospheric, mid-paced passages that would become the group’s hallmark, these early tracks were soon laid down in a professional studio setting, leading to two separate releases; the Inn I Evighetens Mørke (“Into the Darkness of Eternity”) seven-inch, released late 1994 on Dutch label Necromantic Gallery Productions, and the band’s debut album For All Tid (“For All Time”) issued early 1995 on controversial German label No Colours.

  “It was actually recorded in two sessions,” explains Silenoz of the first full-length. “We didn’t have enough money so we had to stop recording and wait for some months—of course those songs have a different sound as we had to work with a different engineer. We never recorded any official demos so people didn’t know what to expect from us … and I guess we didn’t either. We were pretty much clueless, it was a very juvenile, adolescent attitude—go in, hammer everything out, and get out of there. You were just driven by this feeling to get things done and finally get the album in your hands—you were just in ecstasy when that happened.”

  The album attracted the attention of UK label Cacophonous, who by now had signed a number of like-minded artists, in particular Cradle of Filth and Gehenna. Determined to build upon the warm reception their first album had received, the group began to craft a follow-up entitled Stormblåst, recording in two sessions in July and September of 1995. As before, the vocals were handled primarily by Silenoz, with lyrics—once again entirely in Norwegian—contributed by Shagrath, Silenoz, and Aldrahn of Dødheimsgard. This time round, however, there were also a few vocal contributions from Shagrath, who had swapped roles with Tjodalv, putting down his drumsticks in favor of the guitar.

  Released in 1996, Stormblåst (“Stormblown”) saw the band dramatically refining their use of synths, crafting an opus whose somber atmosphere and unhurried pace result in a immersive experience, a point evident from opening number “Alt Lys Er Svunnet Hen” (“All Light Has Faded Away”), which not only begins with a full minute-and-a-half of Stian’s emotive piano work but waits for almost four minutes before introducing any real vocals. With drums and guitars taking a backseat—a point highlighted by six-minute instrumental “Sorgens Kammer” (“Chamber of Sorrow”)—this is clearly not the album for anyone looking for a quick blast of Nordic fury, instead prioritizing atmosphere and a certain air of sophistication.

  Despite the central role of the synths, Stian is the only member whose portrait does not appear in the album’s booklet, though an unusually dapper Shagrath at least ensures the iconic top hat makes an appearance. But though groundbreaking within a black metal context, it later turned out that much of Stian’s synth work was not quite as original as it appeared. In fact, it later transpired that “Sorgens Kammer” was an adaptation of a portion of the soundtrack to Amiga video game Agony, something the other band members maintain they only learned when its creator, renowned Welsh soundtrack composer Tim Wright, contacted the band in 2004.

  As if that wasn’t enough, around the same time the group discovered that the introduction to the opening track had also been “borrowed,” from British prog rock act Magnum’s “Sacred Hour.” Indeed, in 2005 the band would completely rerecord the album (released as Stormblåst MMV), omitting the offending passages, boosting the production values, and upping the guitars, an element the band had long been unhappy with.

  Having only signed to Cacophonous for one album, in late 1996 the band hooked up with Hot Records, an Oslo label that also released albums by Fimbulwinter and Old Man’s Child. The sole result was the Devil’s Path EP featuring the title track, a new song called “Master of Disharmony,” and, somewhat unnecessarily, two cover versions of Celtic Frost’s “Nocturnal Fear.” Though not the most essential chapter in the band’s catalogue, the EP introduced another important lineup shift, with bassist Brynjard Tristan replaced by Nagash (Stian Andrè Arnesen), a musician who already had experience with two other symphonic black metal bands, namely one-man outfit Troll and another rising group called Covenant. More significantly, Shagrath now took over the lead vocals (as well as keyboards, since Aarstad was away on national service), a role he would maintain in the years that followed. The decision suited Tjoldalv well, since he was—and is—primarily a drummer and had swapped roles with Shagrath in the early days of the band simply because both wanted to try out other instruments.

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nbsp; Dimmu Borgir in 1997: Tjodalv, Silenoz, Shagrath, Stian Aarstad, Nagash and Jens-Petter Sandvik, who “played the bass for the band for about two weeks,” according to Silenoz. Photo courtesy of Nuclear Blast Records.

  “On the second album I still did ninety percent of the vocals,” says Silenoz. “It only happened later that I thought, ‘Well you are a much better vocalist than me, so why don’t you do all the vocals?’ I think it was also a little bit about Shagrath wanting to be a frontman. I never wanted to be a frontman, I was always happier at the back.”

  By now the band had come to the attention of industry giants Nuclear Blast, who were beginning to add black metal bands to their roster. 1997 saw the first fruits of this union, namely a split VHS with Dissection and, more importantly, Enthrone Darkness Triumphant, the band’s third album and the one that that would provide their breakthrough into the mainstream.

  Featuring the same lineup as Devil’s Path but with Stian Aarstad back behind the keyboards, the album saw a return to synth-heavy territories. Despite this, the music is markedly different from Stormblåst, exchanging the mournful, obscure vibes for a far more bombastic atmosphere. Though it retains classical overtones, the album also cuts back the solo piano-driven passages, pushing for a more orchestral approach, with guitars more frequent and far higher in the mix. Mirroring the songwriting shift was the sizable production, courtesy Sweden’s Abyss Studios and Peter Tägtgren, fast becoming one of the scene’s most popular producers.

  “It was a step up in being professional,” explains Silenoz of the move. “When we first went to Abyss Peter didn’t know what to expect, I guess he had heard parts of the Stormblåst album and was like, ‘Am I going to record this shit with this shit band?’” he laughs.

  “They sent me stuff so I had some reference of what they were going to do,” recalls Tägtgren, “and I was like, ‘There’s no way in hell it’s going to sound like this and leave my studio.’” The end result was a far bigger and heavier-sounding album and therefore one that had a much wider appeal to metal fans outside the black metal genre. With warm reviews from the press and the support of a larger label, the album proved a huge success, eventually selling over 150,000 copies and putting openly Satanic songs such as “Spellbound by the Devil” and “Tormentor of Christian Souls” back into a mainstream metal scene that had largely moved away from such subject matter (and at that time, the band contained several members with an active interest/involvement in Satanism).

  “When we were doing the album I thought, ‘Okay this is pretty interesting,’” laughs Tägtgren, “I wasn’t as impressed as the fans and media and I was really surprised how it blew up. It was a little too melodic for me at that time—I didn’t really get it, but everyone else did!”

  “We were absolutely ecstatic over creating such a great album and to be the first black metal band to do such a good production,” says Tjoldalv. “It’s a milestone, and is absolutely the breakthrough album for Dimmu Borgir. We felt that already then, that we had got the big breakthrough, a Norwegian black metal band signing with the biggest metal label.”

  Already a more widely palatable proposition musically speaking, the band’s move to Nuclear Blast was accompanied by several amendments to the group’s aesthetic. Most obviously, they were now singing entirely in English and had swapped the somewhat cryptic logo of old for a more legible option. Predictably, certain corners of the black metal scene began to call foul, though Silenoz is quick to defend the moves.

  “It was a mutual decision, I think it was even the band’s suggestion that we should have a logo that was more readable,” he explains. “On Devil’s Path we had changed to English so we were already starting to feel we had ambitions that were more than just being a garage band. We’ve always been accused of being a sellout, but we never changed the name of the band and there’s still barely anyone who can pronounce it.”

  Setting off on a world tour in support of the album, Dimmu began to make more changes to their lineup during ’97 and ’98, taking on an Australian guitarist named Astennu (Jamie Stinson), who also played with Nagash in Covenant and another symphonic black metal outfit called Carpe Tenebrum. The ever unique Stian Aarsted was also replaced, initially by ex-Ancient member Kimberly Goss, and then a young synth player named Øyvind Johan Mustaparta, who became known as Mustis.

  “We were supposed to do the Dynamo festival in 1997,” Silenoz recalls of the event that led to Stian’s departure. “We had the rehearsal the night before we were going to leave and everything was cool. Then the next day I was going to pick him up and he said, ‘Oh sorry guys, I can’t leave.’ It was like, ‘Why are you saying this one hour before we are supposed to go to Holland?!’ He said, ‘Sorry, I can’t get off work,’ you know, stupid reasons that he could have told us a week before. I think it was more that he wasn’t allowed to go because his parents did not like it, they were afraid that being with us would be a catastrophe. Shaggy found Mustis at some bar in Oslo—he was not even old enough to be in the bar and did not have school or work or anything, so we asked him if he wanted to come down and try out.”

  With the band still touring heavily, 1998 saw the release of stopgap EP Godless Savage Garden, which featured four songs left over from the Enthrone sessions, a cover of Accept’s “Metal Heart” and a smattering of live numbers. In 1999, they released Spiritual Black Dimensions, an album that built upon the foundations of its predecessor while developing the detail and depth of the songwriting and emphasizing the synth work of new player Mustis.

  “Mustis was heavily influenced by soundtracks and was a much better keyboard player than Stian,” states Silenoz simply. “He was never really heavily involved with the arrangement of the songs, as he was not skilled in that sense and I don’t think he even cared, but he would come along with ideas for songs and riffs and he definitely left his touch on that album. That contributed to us opening up our sound to this huge cinematic feel, and of course Nagash and Shagrath were writing lots of keyboard stuff as well, and when you have three people writing keyboard stuff it’s sure to be a big, symphonic-sounding album. Musically Spiritual is more advanced that Enthrone ever was; Enthrone has this innocent feeling whereas Spiritual has more finesse, and better songwriting and structures.”

  The band’s fourth full-length is an undeniably more professional and dynamic effort, the symphonic, wall-of-sound approach boosted thanks in large part to the band’s first use of clean vocals since Aldrahn’s appearance on For All Tid. These were contributed by session singer ICS Vortex, also known as Simen Hestnæs, an ex-member of doom outfit Lamented Souls who had recently lent his soaring voice to avant-garde black metal outfits Arcturus and Borknagar. His stellar contribution to tracks like “The Insight and the Catharsis” add a truly rousing spirit to the record, which soon earned him a place as a full-time member of the group.

  “We were actually in touch with Carl McCoy from Fields of the Nephilim,” reveals Silenoz, “We always loved his vocals and had two parts we felt would just fit him perfectly. He was totally up for doing it but he couldn’t travel to Sweden to the Abyss, he wanted to record in his own studio, he didn’t want us present … I can’t really remember the details, but we said, ‘We are here and need to be in control of this and if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.’ Then we were kind of stuck, we had a week left before we were going to mix and we didn’t know who to turn to for clean vocals. So we called Vortex who came over and did some real killer vocals; in hindsight you can say this is a blessing in disguise, I’m sure it would have been killer too with Carl, but I guess there was a reason he wasn’t supposed to sing on the album.”

  “Actually I was first asked to do session vocals on the Devils Path EP,” admits Vortex, “but I overslept and nothing came of it. I think Brynjard was the first guy I met from Dimmu, I remember him being extremely evil at this black metal club,” he laughs. “It was run in a kebab shop run by Pakistanis, all light green inside, a really horrible color. Frost had gotten permission to pl
ay black metal music every Wednesday so that’s where we met, because no one else played black metal, at the time the Elm Street boys just played old rock, so we went there, and sat around drinking water and being extremely evil.”

  “A couple of years later they got back in touch when I was in Bergen,” he continues “I was traveling straight from the studio where I was recording The Archaic Course with Borknagar and we did all the vocals in one night. I arrived in the evening and I remember it was a really good vibe in the studio, it was night, there were candles, it was full moon … it just clicked. Peter’s studio is an old insane asylum, and it’s a pretty good vibe, out in the forest, there’s nobody around, it was pretty magical. Nothing was prepared—I hadn’t heard the songs before or anything—but I did my stuff and it worked out pretty good. I got 10,000 Norwegian Kroner for the job and felt like a millionaire!”

  Faster, darker, and more intense than Enthrone, the album was another huge success both creatively and commercially, but while the songwriting proved relatively problem-free thanks to the many talents involved, the same could not be said for the production and mastering process, which was wracked with headaches for all concerned.

  “We wanted to do the same thing production-wise as on Enthrone, which is why we went back to Peter,” explains Silenoz. “It was probably a bigger production but the end result did not really capture what we were looking for at the time. First of all, we ended up mastering the album twice; the first master that we really liked the label didn’t like for some really strange reason, so there exist two masters of the album. When I want to listen to the album I put on the original master, I feel it was less chaotic and that’s why we liked it, it was closer to the finished product of Enthrone.”

 

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