A discussion of the eternal problem that metalheads encounter, but never resolve.

In any subculture with a certain number of decades under its belt – metal included – there will necessarily be a certain amount of tedious specimens. One old buddy of mine happened to be camping with one of those at Wacken way back in the day.

Aforementioned buddy was asking around in his camp as to whether someone wanted to go see the Finntroll show, because, "that might be kinda fun". And in response, one of those kinds of metalhead who takes sparingly produced music surprisingly seriously, grumbles that, "metal's not about having fucking fun."

Say what you want: I know I can be full of myself, but that's a different level, right there.

However, I also do like to play devil's advocate. (Wouldn't be very metal if I didn't.) So, for the sake of argument, let's try to accommodate that statement a bit.

It is true that metal is, at least to a certain extent, based upon Black Sabbath's original concept of cultivating the dark and the scary. Not only musically, but also lyrically and in terms of paratextual factors like artwork, outfits, and make-up. Metal is not for everyone; it can seem – and, indeed, sound – uncomfortable for the uninitiated.

As a starting point, metal is a counter-reaction to anything that's nice about music. Sabbath's self-titled horror hymn – since widely considered the world's first actual metal track – still stands as probably the most frightening song ever. Within those seven Earth-shattering minutes, global hard rock irrevocably loses its innocence.

In shaking the foundations of rock music, then, metal questions something established. In all its anti-niceness it is as much of an anti-genre as a genre. All that wonderful energy in metal isn't necessarily leading anywhere or providing any answers, but, in an expression that could be considered nihilistic, rather serves as a goal in itself.

In fact, I'd be willing to bet that most readers will be familiar with coming home from a shitty day, putting a slab of steel on the stereo, and, along with that otherworldly surge of fiery, machine-gun focused energy, feel their own strength and vitality replenished, along with their problems diminished. (Also, in case you don't know what a "stereo" means, grow up already.)

So in practice, metal has come to be associated with a cathartic, energetic expulsion. Now, one such can occur in several ways. Not necessarily only in a therapeutic way, but also, indeed, in a fun way.

I mean, look at mosh pits. For anyone who has no idea what's going on, it probably looks like a death wish. But there's a reason we keep on throwing ourselves into that madness ravine at show after show. It's because we enjoy and celebrate that very force that's been starting and ending life since the dawn of time, to an extent where we deliberately allow ourselves to get carried away. – And have a good time.

Shit, I know I've had some of my best times at concerts. Concerts that had all the qualities of gigantic celebrations.

If metal isn't at least potentially about fun, then why are hundreds of thousands of metalheads worldwide spending their vacations and savings on festivals every year?

However, I have also attended shows that seemed more like gatherings. Concerts that had much more ceremonious qualities to them.

For example, you'll see black metal shows where people are seemingly just standing around. Perhaps not employing their resources doing anything but simply absorbing the music.

(Except, of course, for that handful of people constantly headbanging in the front row. We've all seen them, and occasionally I've been one of them.)

Experiencing music in that more passive and dignified manner isn't exactly fun. But perhaps it's not supposed to be fun, either.

Indeed, take the slogan of Deathlike Silence Productions, "No fun / no mosh / no core / no trends", that Euronymus put on the back cover of Mayhem's 1987 "Deathcrush" EP along with a crossed-out Scott Burns. This was a counter-reaction to Earache selling… well, according to Euronymous, too many death metal albums with apparently too many groovy passages. This was seen as watering down metal's integrity with the inner circle who conceived it as a serious form of art, not something light-hearted.

And you know what? I consider that a completely legitimate standpoint.

For some people, music – and especially metal – is something serious. And I don't blame them for feeling that way. How could I?

I am all too familiar with that indignant combination of resentment and disgust that I feel when I hear something that's supposed to be metal, but is produced exactly as anti-dynamic and artificially pumped up by compression as anything you'd hear on a "club".

Supposed metal bands have long started using digital cheat codes like Beat Detective and even Auto-Tune: The horrendous plugin that vocalists who can't sing use to convince musically illiterate ignorants that they can. And thereby contributing to normalizing further artificial enhancements requiring zero talent or effort to employ, and to marginalizing actual singers who are able to actually sing.

This is the antithesis to that artistic integrity that's exactly at the anti-commercial core of metal's raison d'être.

All that wonderful energy in metal isn't necessarily leading anywhere or providing any answers, but, in an expression that could be considered nihilistic, rather serves as a goal in itself.

I understand how and why rarity and exclusivity equals value. And I understand why people want to protect something that seems exclusive and esoteric. Especially when it gets watered down and diluted with a low common denominator. I understand why people want to preserve their tribe and their belonging.

Because that's exactly what metal becomes for many of its listeners to a great extent: It attains an infinitely greater meaning and value to us than the calculated sausage pop of mainstream media and "clubs" constitutes for the people who uncritically consume that. And rather than being something we do on the weekends, it becomes part of our identity – not just any other kind of hobby or pastime. It becomes more or less of a lifestyle.

Whether we like it or not, this tendency seems to be the most prevalent in the black metal community. So for the sake of reference, one article on deathmetal.org recounts that black metal "expressed a love of nature, a dark melancholy, a feral atavism, a seeming joy in death and winter, and an embrace of predation and natural selection as a kind of litmus test for humanity. It loved cruelty, dark and degraded sounds, ancient ruins and ancient cultures. It hated McDonald's, organized religion, trends, "fun" and social inclusion".

Say what you want about how principal, utopian and pragmatically unsustainable that paragraph is; it's fucking powerful.

And while the "McDonald's" part may seem a bit random, it's a symbol of the happy-go-lucky, broadly appealing, and instantly gratifying mass culture which is really what metal is a counter-movement towards. Not because popular culture is necessarily "fun", but because it's superficial and conformist rather than profound and righteous.

Mass culture, in all its focus on uncritical consumerism, mindless entertainment, and a constant stream of one hysterical hype after the other, leaves little room for individualism and true creative variety. And with any and all humility imaginable, I understand any and all contempt for the shallow mainstream.

Going back to Sabbath, the essence of metal is a rebellion against the pleasing decorum of mainstream music. And in all its elitism, black metal in particular isn't just a nihilistic middle finger to anything and everything that's known and appreciated by more than a couple of hundred people. On the contrary, it's a romantic protection of something that's rare and precious.

With all this said, I can't follow the sentiment to its logical conclusion. Because in my view, metal – being context-dependent entertainment, not a mathematical constant – is enough different things to cover the span from one pole to the other.

Some of us have an inherent desire to seek out something darker, rarer, more serious, challenging, and enduring than ordinary entertainment. But at the same time, a desire for a certain belonging is only human.

I despise obvious pandering towards trends as much as any culturally mature human being. But that doesn't mean I don't consider it amazing that Iron Maiden have sold 100+ million albums with virtually no airplay for 50 years, and that in a few weeks I'll be seeing them for the 21st time along with tens of thousands of people, wailing my lungs out to classics that essentialized the genre before I was born.

But this, in extension of the above, raises the question, at what point does accessibility equal dilution of integrity? And while there may not be any clear-cut answer to that question, it's worth pointing out that there at least can be a huge difference between popularity and pandering.

Metallica's "Master of Puppets" turned 40 this year. In my article about it, I talked about how Metallica couped the iron throne on that album by fusing the genre's hard-hitting energy with elements that appealed to a wide audience – but without compromising on their credentials with the metal listeners.

(Of course, a few claimed that they already compromised way too much by writing "Fade to Black" two years before – and others claimed that they sold out by signing a record contract in the first place. However, much like in politics, the extremists are seldom the best point of reference for reflected, nuanced, and well-thought-out perspectives. So I'll leave their perspective within this parenthesis where it belongs.)

Metallica didn't deliberately pander towards lowest common denominator in the same way that an obvious trend calculation like L**p B****t are doing it. Much like aforementioned Iron Maiden, Metallica maintained their credibility by preserving the necessary elements of gnarly riffing and red-hot energy while avoiding dumbed-down choruses, radio-friendly production, and predictable 3.5-minute song structures. But they still went on to sell millions with that album. (In fact, "… Puppets" was the first metal album in history to go platinum.)

This should demonstrate that metal can reach from one end of the spectrum to the other – from the inaccessible to the communal.

The black metal scene in Norway also had a community. It was just small. Sure, they were antisocial to the point of murdering each other. But they had a community nonetheless.

Some of us have an inherent desire to seek out something darker, rarer, more serious, challenging, and enduring than ordinary entertainment. But at the same time, a desire for a certain belonging is only human.

And when those two desires are combined, what arises is a celebration of life through equal parts aggressive sounds, wild movement, warm camaraderie, and, likely, ridiculous amounts of beer.

This leads us back to Wacken where we started. Because if metal isn't at least potentially about fun, then why are hundreds of thousands of metalheads worldwide spending their vacations and savings on festivals every year?

And if all we had were those really extreme bands, then how would we get that supreme surge of wailing our lungs out to – oh, say – "Run To the Hills" along with tens of thousands of other blissful headbangers?

Indeed, what would metal be without the community?

The black metal scene in Norway also had a community. It was just small. Sure, they were antisocial to the point of murdering each other. But they had a community nonetheless. And in spite of the obvious rejection of many of the Earache bands, Euronymous was on friendly terms with Earache founder Digby Pearson.

Some people need community more – and, indeed, less – than others. And there's a vast span from one extreme to the other.

The problem is not that metal can be either fun or serious – communal or elitist. The problem is that some people fail to realize that – much like the feminine yin and the masculine yang – the two poles define and complement each other.

In fact, much like fellow metalheads, they can't exist without each other.

Thanks for reading.
If you liked this article, you can support a metal brother by buying me a coffee.

Sources / further reading:

• https://deathlikesilenceproductions.com/
• https://www.deathmetal.org/article/no-mosh-no-core-no-trends-no-fun:
• https://askearache.blogspot.com/2009/06/dsp-no-mosh-no-core-no-trends-no-fun.html

Featured image: Photo by Evgeniy Smersh, licensed under Unsplash (source).