Black Metal: Evolution of the Cult

by Dayal Patterson

  Further lessons in underground ethics would come from Germany via Moonblood and Nargaroth, two acts whose influence remains as much about their aesthetic and conduct as their actual music. Moonblood followed a path similar to the Black Legions but impressively maintained the position for about ten years, refusing to release material on CD and instead releasing highly limited vinyl and a huge number of demo/rehearsal tapes. Though far less obscure, Nargaroth also stuck with the limited editions and demos, and their scene-referencing lyrics (reflected in song titles such as ‘Black Metal ist Krieg,’ ‘The Day Burzum Killed Mayhem’ and ‘Erik May You Rape The Angels,’ a composition dedicated to deceased drummer Erik ‘Grim’ Brødreskift) and statements addressing black metal as an ethos and faith in itself, seemingly above that of Satanism, an increasingly common phenomenon.

  Such ultra-elitist approaches, which have been adopted (or at least admired) by many acts since, have been fueled, quite paradoxically, by the increased availability of once-obscure recordings, brought by downloading, online distros, re-releases, and auction sites. Where items were once limited to approximately the number they were expected to sell, the increased black metal audience of today means that limited items are often sought largely for their rarity. The result is a black metal scene where even fairly unimportant releases draw attention thanks to ridiculously limited runs of, say, sixty-six—or for the more right-wing, eighty-eight—and genuinely legendary material that was once almost impossible to attain is now easier to find on eBay in bootleg form or in official and limited special editions. Serious record collecting and even speculating have also come into play, meaning that records with limited or “die-hard” editions may in fact be picked up by less hardcore fans, who intend to sell at a later date.

  “Things have changed,” ponders Mikko Aspa of respected underground label Northern Heritage. “Limited items serve some function, but for bands who have reached a certain level, there are often more people waiting for the items than labels are pressing. I think in such cases it should be considered—do you want to release ‘collector’s items,’ or spread music to those who want it?”

  The Northern Heritage website actually puts its money where its mouth is, stating clearly its policy on release formats: “Northern Heritage does releases in all formats, aiming for decent yet traditional presentation and regular pricing. There are no special ‘die-hard’ collector’s editions, nor unnecessary multi-format releases … All the vinyl are meant to be LISTENED. They are NOT status symbols, they are NOT collector’s items of people who are afraid to listen the vinyls because its value could decrease from ‘m’ to ‘vg’ if they remove album from the plastic sleeve! Original idea of limited vinyls was to reach exclusively the true underground maniacs who listen this format with passion. Unfortunately too big part of records are nowadays ending into Internet auctions, sold to those who will pay hundreds of $$$ to obtain something they probably consider status symbol.”

  As mentioned, many (some without even realizing) present the black metal underground as a cause in itself, and thus place great value on elitism, obscurity, and inaccessibility, as opposed to bands such as Gorgoroth, Watain, or the late Dissection, who attempt to reach the largest audiences possible in order to spread specific spiritual messages, black metal being the means as opposed to the end.

  “If I could sell in Justin Timber-lake scales I obviously would,” Gorgoroth’s Infernus told me for Crypt in 2006, before commenting on bands who aim to maintain an underground status. “What is that for a self-handicapping way of perceiving the world? What is elite about limiting your own abilities of doing something properly? Of course, by those standards we are an overground band, we are contrary to that mongose-speaking [sic] of the ‘underground.’ I am a guy who is thirty-three years old and it made sense in the mid-eighties, when there were good bands who didn’t have record deals, to talk about being ‘underground,’ but starting to idealize that situation today … I mean, how poor must a band be to not get a record deal these days? So what is the meaning? It is purely idiotic.”

  The underground survives? Poland’s Evilfeast and their excellent Funeral Sorcery album, originally released in 2005 on tape format in only 300 copies.

  The position Infernus holds is shared by long-running Swedish band Marduk, who have seen the scene grow immeasurably since their inception in 1990, as guitarist and founding member Morgan Håkansson explains: “The scene was not so big at that time—there were a handful of people in each country, you more or less knew everybody involved in the scene. Euronymous had a vision first to make it very small and selective, then changed his mind to make it a big thing, which is very reasonable you know? You should make the most of everything you do. Some people that do recordings say they don’t want anybody to hear them and that they want to keep it limited; it’s a good idea but it doesn’t work. Why not spread the word as far as possible? … It’s a calling that you have obviously, you have a burning devotion to what you do, otherwise you shouldn’t do it, otherwise I would do something completely different. I’m glad to have the opportunity and strength that I can march across the planet and spread my message in the most distant parts of the world.”

  “That’s why I do these lyrics and that’s why I don’t want to stay underground,” concurs Marduk (and Funeral Mist) vocalist Daniel “Mortuus” Rosten. “I want to spread light and darkness into the world. I still know there will always only be a small number of people who will fully understand it, so you can call that elitist, but it depends where you draw the line, I have a message with my lyrics and what do you do with a message? You want people to hear it.”

  It’s a point upon which another Swede, ex-Marduk guitarist Peter Tagtgren, agrees, particularly in terms of his own production work (characterized by its clean, powerful, and accessible sound) on highly successful bands such as Immortal and Dimmu Borgir. “You lure people into something bad, you know what I mean?” he chuckles, “If you hear something [commercially successful and accessible] you want to hear what [that band] did in the past and it spreads like a virus… when you learn to listen to these more brutal albums they did, you can continue to bands that play even more brutal stuff. You can stand in the garage and record demos and never release them and do like this for the rest of your life—if you think that’s underground then go ahead, I think you’re an idiot if you do that. Spread the shit.”

  Despite the odd commercial success story, there are actually by definition more underground black metal bands now than ever before, simply because there are more black metal bands period. One need only look at the majority of the thousands, even tens of thousands, of black metal bands in existence now to see that few will achieve any real commercial success. Paradoxically, the underground has become quite a crowded place, far more so than the mainstream side of the genre, simply because most bands—even if they have no interest in underground values and harbor secret desires to be picked up by the masses—will never make it big due to black metal’s inherent niche status.

  The black metal underground is also no longer well-hidden from the outside world, due to the Internet and the loss of mystery that occurred in the genre as a whole when certain acts moved into the mainstream and people looked more closely at the scene that spawned them. For that reason it is not only Infernus who sees the concept of the black metal underground as losing relevance. Other musicians such as Watain’s Erik Danielsson have distanced themselves from it altogether, as he made clear in the aforementioned 2007 Terrorizer interview:

  “First, let me just make one thing clear; I piss on the underground! I piss on it as much as I piss on the rest of contemporary black and death metal,” he spits. “We are on our own! People claim to be a part of something romantically elect, something dark and evil, something that is filled to the brim with creative art. Who the fuck are they trying to fool? … a subculture in which there is no room at all for self-criticism or intolerance will never earn my respect… Even the demos of today’s MySpace bands are released by label
s. And re-released. And re-re-released. In die-hard versions… Now everyone is on their own. The artists will prevail and the Internet herd will fall into oblivion, painfully embarrassed for the rest of their lives when thinking back on their laughable attempts to make music in the name of the ancient ones, whose mere thought would—and will, one day—smother their greedy little underground forever.

  “In the years when it served as the only source of information and availability for this kind of music, then it filled a purpose, and the restricted, esoteric feel to it was undeniable. Now, I don’t know, although there are still many good bands on an underground level, the underground itself has become too repetitive, the spirit of revolution has been replaced by the spirit of the herd. Instead of taking things further people are trapped in patterns out of which most energy has already been drained. While one could speak of the entire black/death metal phenomenon as something interesting and filled with potential back in the days, now one can only make such reference to a handful of bands that can hardly be said to constitute the entire underground. They are more likely to alienate themselves from it intentionally, due to its mediocre and uninspiring nature.”

  Another seminal DIY offering: Orcustus fanzine, created by Bård “Faust” Eithun in 1992.

  While many will flinch at Erik’s words, he is not alone. Many of those who were there in the early days argue that the underground only meant something when all black metal was “underground black metal,” that the commercialization of certain elements of the genre have lifted the mystery and meaning from the beast as a whole. This is an opinion voiced by Metalion, editor of Slayer, and a man who has seen the genre develop from its humble beginnings.

  “There is no way we can go back to how things once were. Black metal has been exploited and populated by the masses. And I’m sure there is still real black metal out there with people cutting themselves deeply with razor blades. But everything is so big and normal now, so everyone knows about it. For me, the magic is long gone though I certainly enjoy some current stuff as well. I really don’t care anymore, what once was so unique and no one knew about is forever gone. It is very strange to see how public and normal everything is now.”

  Whether the magic of the movement has been lost is a matter of opinion, though there can be no doubt that many of today’s bands are recycling musical and ideological ideas that are a decade or two old. That said, though there are more substandard bands than ever before, clinging onto the concept of the underground to disguise their own failures, there are also more underground black metal bands worthy of praise than ever before. Bands who are resolutely dedicated to creating black art without compromise still claim the underground as their own, and more importantly still believe that it has some meaning beyond a sales tactic. Shatraug of long-running Finnish underground institution Horna (and the newer but similarly minded Behexen) is one individual who still views the underground as a relevant concept, and speaks with some optimism on the future.

  “I think Horna is still as much underground as when we released our first album. The name is known, we are touring and we’ve been around for a long time, but we are still doing this music from the depths of our souls, earning shit on the way. For me, selling out would be to try [to] please the commercial market, to do better and better productions, tons of merchandising, appearances on worthless events, making money as a top priority to gain. The underground will remain as long as there are individuals sharing common views, spreading music without making it a commercial widespread cancer, cultivating the art of death in the shadows of this genre…. What makes the underground is the aim to please and satisfy personal needs of worship and passion, not the needs of a commercial market or dictations of a record label.”

  One man who has experienced working both within the underground and outside it is Tom Warrior of Hellhammer and Celtic Frost. “Intuitively I’ve always been drawn to the underground,” he says thoughtfully. “One of the few liberating things about losing Celtic Frost from my life was to make my music [in Trypticon] slightly more underground, that was something I missed in my life, especially after the Monotheist album came out. Of course I enjoyed touring at that level, but it isn’t really what I’m all about. The underground has always been the birthplace of interesting stuff, so of course I like to see when a black metal band stays underground and as real as possible. But as I said, I enjoyed touring on a big level and I understand if other musicians want that too. And it’s of course a legitimate argument if you want to spread a message. The question is whether these bands really have a message. Are they Satanists? Do they have a philosophy to spread? There’s a lot of so-called black metal bands who simply project an image because they think it’s cool, they are not practicing Satanists, and far from that, they don’t even relate to any of the related philosophies, the hatred or the nihilism or anything like that. There’s quite a number of bands who do it simply because they think it looks cool, and it’s simply a cheap image tool.

  “The funny thing is my many visits to Scandinavia, and Norway especially, have led me to come to the conclusion that many black metal bands have members who would like to be huge rock stars and I find that very surprising. When I looked at black metal from a distance in the 1990s and had not met any of these people I thought they were all practicing Satanists, and many, many years later I see that they’re musicians, like any other musicians. Some of them are just wanting to be rock stars—they like the glamour of the music scene, they like the attention, the groupies, the drink, they do all the same rock star antics that many of the more decadent bands do. On the one hand I think that’s very human, on the other it disappoints me deeply. Sometimes you see these very well-known black metal protagonists shirtless, bent back with their guitars in the air, and it could be someone from [eighties glam rockers] Ratt, it’s almost pathetic. Those are people who have huge names within the history of black metal, the most radical form of metal and then you see them in poses and clothes like that and it just doesn’t go together for me—but then what can I say? I sang on Cold Lake, who am I to speak? But we want to be realistic and honest here, right? I listen freely to music and of course will sometimes listen to something by Dimmu Borgir, even if it’s just out of interest. I’m not envious or anything—I know how hard it is to be a musician and for them it’s fantastic, they’re probably living the same dream that I lived—but black metal is to me not just yet another form of heavy metal, black metal is something totally different. Black metal has an ideology, an agenda. It has a certain totally radical philosophy behind it and that combines much better with underground and meager possibilities than the glamour of showbiz. If you are going to play black metal you should stay true to these things, otherwise you shouldn’t call yourself black metal anymore.”

  “In a way I feel like it’s okay that bands have become mainstream as it’s opened up new markets for us,” counters Mayhem’s Necrobutcher. “Another good thing is that when Dimmu are on tour they wear their Mayhem shirts and aren’t afraid to say they were inspired by Mayhem when they started, same as all these other bands. We didn’t have any plans to explore the commercial side of it … but I would say all in all it’s a good thing.”

  “I don’t find it weird that Dimmu Borgir are so successful, what is weird is that Dimmu can actually pass as black metal and then people believe it,” concludes Darkthrone’s Fenriz, a man who has dedicated himself to a multitude of underground and non-commercial music forms. “That’s kind of fantastic ‘cos if that slab of music had entered Helvete in ’91, everyone would die laughing, break it and throw it out. When you’re in a band you have to take thousands of choices. You can make all good choices, or a lot of bad choices like a band like Cradle of Filth, it’s not like you did one choice that was bad or good, it’s thousands of decisions that result in a band with high sales and no credibility, or low sales and high credibility. Now choose, people.”

  32

  LES LÉGIONS NOIRES

  “I know it must be popular to say
, ‘I was into Black Legions bands when nobody cared,’ but this is fact. I bought the stuff from Isengard distribution run by Darken of Graveland when these were seriously unwanted, some cash in mail and you got them without much competition. You could see almost everybody laughing at the low skills of musicianship and be[ing] annoyed about the hate mail some of these guys sent around, even to Finland. Distros would sell something like the first Mütiilation CD and the Vlad Tepes/Belkètre split CD for like five dollars because nobody wanted them … yet all these officially published works are some of the most remarkable masterpieces recorded in [the] history of black metal.”

  —Mikko Aspa (Clandestine Blaze/Northern Heritage Records)

  “To all those who could get a copy of this Dark Work, we did not in the least release this crime of Vlad Tepes and Belkètre to become popular or arouse any form of attention, for publicity or to earn money… This will be the first and last on a label. Later on, we will only release demos, without label, which will be duplicated only to an extremely limited number of people, those we will consider as worthy, and not sold, because such feelings as Solitude, Sorrow, Despair, and Hate mustn’t be sold.”

  —An excerpt from a four-page manifesto included within the sleeve of the Vlad Tepes/Belkètre split March To The Black Holocaust