The original explosion of media attention around the Norwegian black metal scene occurred and was in full swing around the times of my fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth birthdays. I missed it, really. Being in my mid-teens, having a media that was still largely only one-way, and being in a country where the so-called music industry is basically entirely a suck on the knob of American and Japanese conglomerate music divisions, lent itself to that. Continue Reading
A music form originated in the late 1980s or early 1990s. Dispute exists over which artist is the originator, but this author likes to give credit to the band called Bathory. One of two musical forms that ninety-five percent of my collection of music is drawn from.
During my previous loss of rationality concerning how people can be inaccessible due to their stupidity and self-centrism, I quoted a song. This song is called Atypical Suggestions By A Dead Artist. And the band that performed it is named after the woman who performs its vocals: Cadaveria. Continue Reading
I have lost count of the number of distinct artists I have on what I like to derisively refer to as my iPood. It is probably in the low hundreds. The story of how I came to be the proud owner of an iPood is one I will tell in a little while. Suffice to say for now that of the hundreds of artists that sit on my iPood and occasionally get listened to, none have perplexed me more than the Finnish doom-black metal crossover who went by the name Unholy. Continue Reading
Earlier this year, the Japanese black metal band Sigh released a new album with the title In Somniphobia. And for those of you out there who read this and feel tempted to send me messages about how Sigh are an “avant garde” band or whatever, do not. Just… do not. To borrow and mangle a quote from Jello Biafra that needs to be more widely circulated, this rigid and conservative definition of black metal that you have sure as hell is not what got me into black metal in the first place. Continue Reading
It seems like such an innocent question. But when I hear people ask it of me, I sense a certain derision and even contempt in their voice that cannot help but make me angry. But it is also a reasonable question when approached correctly. The truth of the matter is that although I define myself a great deal by what I despise, have contempt for, or outright hate, I also define myself by the things I enjoy, or more specifically, why I enjoy them.