Lagniappe Mobile Blog

As set forth in the first installment of the “Music Industry Beast,” I find that the modern music business is driven by an illusion vs. reality ideology. I don’t have to say that the industry creates an image for some bands. Probably one of the most loathsome, first-hand experiences that I’ve had concerning this ideology involved Dimmu Borgir and Ozzfest 2004 in Tampa. While I was writing/editing for a national tour zine, we were commissioned to publish one of many “official” tour zines for Ozzfest. One of my assignments was to interview Dimmu Borgir guitarist Silenoz (aka Sven Atle Kopperud). For those who aren’t familiar with Dimmu, they are an extremely popular band of the new generation of “Scandinavian Black Metal.” In order to understand my tale better, I guess I need to provide a crash-course concerning the nature of Scandinavian black metal, and for this, I’ll have to go around my elbow to get to my asshole to make this blog affective. Please, be patient.

Do you remember the Satanic Panic of the 80s and 90s? A lot of people don’t because it ended up being so silly that it got swept under the rug very neatly. I consider a chilled-out version of Salem Witch Trials. Finding its roots in the late 70s, this was a time when legions of people were coming forward with stories of ritual abuse including sacrificial breeding and indescribable horrors involving an extensive, underground network of Satanists. Supposed back-masking on metal records were said to be brainwashing innocent youth across the country with infamous messages from Lucifer himself. It was a time when if a majority of your wardrobe was black, then you were labeled a Satanist. Geraldo even had a two-hour special dedicated to uncovering the Satanists. In Mobile, a place called “Stonehouse” (an old dairy on Halls Mill Rd.) was classified as an underground Satanic church and even made the front page of the Press Register. Evangelist Bob Larson ruled Power 88 and provided metal fans with interviews from icons such as Deicide bassist/vocalist Glen Benton, who usually answered questions in a humorous demonic voice. When the brimstone and sulfur cleared, there was not one incident of ritual abuse proven. Stonehouse ended being nothing more than a place for local teenagers to drink whatever flavor schnapps they stole from their parents and smoke marijuana. Satanic back-masking was found on many records was all in the minds of the people “exposing” it, and Larson antagonized Slayer so much that they admitted that their Satanic image was nothing more than an image just so he would leave them alone. However, in Norway it was a different story.

Even though the incidents in Norway weren’t as dramatic as the Satanic Panic in America, they were still quite bizarre. “True” black metal band members and fans claim Satan and/or Odin as their lord and master and call for the ultimate end to the Christian church. They compose music singing their masters’ praises and setting forth the philosophies of what many fans call true black metal. While Larson was inadvertently promoting metal in America, there was a rash of church burnings instigated by black metal bands and fans who found that the churches were erected on sites considered holy to the follows of Odinism. Probably the most dramatic incident in Scandinavian black metal was the suicide of Mayhem vocalist Dead. When fellow band mate Euronymous found his body with slit wrists and a shotgun blast to the head, he took pictures for future album cover art. Legend has it that he then ate part of his brain in a stew and made a necklace out of Dead’s skull fragments. Other pieces of the skulls were supposedly sent to various black metal bands. Euronymous met his demise later when fellow band member Count Grishnackh (aka Varg Virkenes) stabbed him 23 times “in self-defense.” These are condensed versions of these incidents, and I’m sure there many more. Obviously, this is a metal genre that focuses on the destruction of the Christian Church, murder and the coming of Ragnarok. These modern black metal musicians and disciples consider themselves the children of the gods of Asgard and in alliance with Satan.

So, when it came time to interview Silenoz, I was very excited. I have always enjoyed interviewing enigmatic musicians. He and his band mates are ominous characters donning the trademark black metal corpse paint to compliment the leather clothing covered in metal spikes, and I figured that I would get a firsthand account of the Scandinavian black metal scene from a member of one of its leading bands. I would be calling Silenoz in Berlin, where Dimmu was busy getting ready for Ozzfest. With the good folks at Lagniappe, they are more than gracious to pick up the bill when I have to call overseas. However, Volume would expect me to pick up the bill for this call, but I felt it was totally worth it in order to get a first-hand account from a band that many fans and critics were calling true black metal. I expected all the dramatics and demonic voices of the Bob Larson days. I assumed that this neo-black metal god would pour out the word of Odin and entertain me with quotes from the Necronomicon.

I got around the expected small talk that is expected in interviews. Then, I got to the real questions. Since Dimmu is considered a true black metal band, I asked him to define the term.

“You can’t really put a label on that,” said Silenoz. “Obviously, only the bands themselves know if they’re doing this for the heart or for different reasons. That’s a pretty narrow-minded way to put a label on things, but I understand what they mean about it. Bands like Darkthrone and Mayhem that sound more unpolished, so to speak. I guess that’s what they mean.” I had to have more dealing with the philosophy behind the genre. I wanted him to come out and say, “Hail Satan! Praise Odin! Death to the Christian church” and so forth. So, I hit him with the next question that dealt with whether black metal still focused on Satan and Odin and all the ideas that led to murder and the destruction of churches in Scandinavia.

“Well, I think the major part of the philosophies are still there, but it has matured a lot since the early 90s,” explained Silenoz. “People have grown up and are more focused on the musical aspect. I think that’s what was good about it all, because all the non-musical aspects got us on the map.” Since he insinuated that the violent beginnings of black metal were a sign of immaturity, I also asked him whether some of his black metal brothers who carried out some of “non-musical” actions would be welcomed back into the scene, and Silenoz stated that he was looking forward to seeing Jon Nodtveidt of the Swedish band Dissection perform now that he free from serving time after murder an Algerian in 97.

After the interview, I found myself confused. I’ve known tons of serious metalheads in my lifetime. These people aren’t fans; they are serious connoisseurs of the genre. They don’t like being fucked with when it comes to their bands. From reading up on Dimmu, I have found that there is a serious debate between metalheads on whether they are true black metal or not. There are arguments in various message boards online where fans debate whether they are allied with Satan or if it’s just an image. As time passed, Dimmu became more elusive to me.

After the issue came out, I was given the chance to attend Ozzfest in Tampa and interview a few of the bands. Since most of my interviews are phoners, I was raring to get on the road, especially since one of the bands would be Dimmu. I would have a chance to talk to them off-record. So, me and my partner in crime Keith loaded up and hit the road after I got off of work. It was a grueling trip that was accented by the various chemicals we were ingesting in order to stay awake throughout the night. We drove overnight and arrived at the Tampa Bay Amphitheater just in time for the festival to start. Meanwhile, Hurricane Frances had Tampa in its sights, but it was three days out. Being that it was three days out, we knew the weather would be absolutely beautiful for the festival and the drive home. After going through the bullshit involved with getting credentials and being refused entry with a tape recorder even though I had a press pass, I called Dimmu’s road manager, who was a European and had an accent that was a strange mish-mash of the Queen’s English and German, and was anxious to get backstage and meet the guys. What came next was one of the biggest disappointments of my life and will remain one of the many reasons (there were other things that happened on this trip) that lead me to believe that if the world needed an enema, they would stick the pipe in Tampa.

The road manager explained that these lords of thunder, these disciples of Odin and Satan, these Norse storm gods in human form were apprehensive of Hurricane Frances (still three days out). I explained that I had driven eight hours overnight with the sole purpose of interviewing the members in person and that it had been a bitch getting through the gate. This merciless piece of Euro trash then jumped my case and said that he had been busy trying to book a flight back to Europe and cancelling the rest of their tour all because a hurricane was three days out. I assumed that these guys would get off standing on the beach calling for the protection of the old Norse gods while the hell they praised broke loose all around them. Personally, I have never evacuated for a hurricane, and I know hundreds if not thousands of people who don’t. Hell, people sometimes head down here to ride out a hurricane.

I never looked into or gave a shit whether they were actually flying all the way back to their homeland or not. Like I keep telling you, the industry is full of shit. This could’ve have been some line the road manager was feeding me. I was tired, strung-out, pissed, and disappointed that these hulking metal icons had not lived up to my expectations as well as their thousands of fans who saw these guys as mythically evil godheads. After reading all the stories of blood and death, it was almost like a kid who finally figures out that wrestling is fake, but time opened up more mysteries to me involving this band.

Remember Silenoz talking about Jon Nodtveidt from Dissection? Two years after his release, he was found dead of an apparent suicide with a “Satanic grimoire” found resting on his chest. Now as for Dimmu, they recently recruited former Mayhem drummer Hellhammer (aka Jan Axel Bromberg). Hellhammer was quoted heavily in an excellent book about black metal called “Lords of Chaos.” Is Dimmu getting back to those black metal roots that made the genre so infamous, or were the roots always there? I think that Dimmu really is doing the smart thing by allowing their music to make them legendary. Otherwise, it seems the only way to make your name in black metal is through a horrific, senseless murder with time served or a disgusting suicide. For Dimmu’s sake, I guess it’s a good thing that they’re not choosing the latter. Maybe Bob Larson will run across this blog and find himself rejuvenated, take on Dimmu Borgir and provide future metalheads with some quality radio.