Playlists

Published on January 26th, 2015 | by The Beige Baron

0

Screaming into a Gale: Black Metal Mixtape

**Includes Exciting Mixtape!!**

Black metal is a rejection. It’s projectile vomit. That’s about as close as I can come to describing what it is to myself, after thinking about it for a long time.

So I’ll wrap this up now, having solved the puzzle. Black metal is projectile vomit, good job, give me my $100 and we can all go home.

Except what I want to do here is convince you why having black metal in the mix of stuff you listen to is not only healthy for you, it can probably solve all your mental problems, give you bigger muscles, larger boobs (I hope simultaneously), do your tax return, wash your windows, and take out the trash all at same time.

Not really but I got you past the first two paragraphs didn’t I you curious bastards. Now I am really going to say what I couldn’t say before because it would have made everyone shut down their browsers and decide to do some work: black metal is good because almost everyone else hates it.

Listen. Hear me out. Don’t go.  I wouldn’t be pressing this tape into your hands if I didn’t care about you, or if I thought you couldn’t be persuaded. You can be. And I think I can explain why… I’m going to try. Because if something like this gives me such a savage rush of joy, then I have to try to share it.

I prefer to think of hot toasty marshmellows of human flesh than those wintry outdoors

The metalheads huddled indoors over tea and crumpets

Here it is: black metal is about music, and it’s about expressing a certain feeling or atmosphere.

Some will take that further and say it’s about a lifestyle, subculture, philosophy, and they’re welcome to that.

But what’s lamer, a Christian or a Satanist? Both are equally ridiculous… the priest in his robes and the black metal musician in his corpse paint. Who gave anyone the right to monopolise a style of music with their own personal philosophy? I didn’t get any memos. The whole Satanist shit is a joke, leave that misconception at the door and come on in.

Black’s moved on, I think, from burning churches and worshipping Satan. Which even as a teenager I was dubious about. If God is a lie and Jesus is a joke, what does that make Satan? And what does that make your scary upside-down crosses?

It makes it theatre.

Black metal started out as a rejection of Christian society. It has evolved into a rejection of society in general. It’s dissent. Non-agreement to participate. Even, tragically, in life. But sometimes, in expressing a desperation to die, the seed of life is watered. For some it’s so beautiful and it’s worth living for.

I think black metal is a very simple and eloquent expression of what it is like to be very lonely… lonely like dead on the road lonely with crows circling on that Burzum cover. Sometimes it’s meditating about evil. Sometimes it’s meditating about how great drums sound down a 40-foot well with a mic hanging above the pit. Who knows? Who gives a shit? What matters is how you respond to the music.

About the age when black ambient appeals. I'm of that age

About the age when black ambient appeals. I’m of that age

With black metal, the cold of loneliness and pointlessness of existence is given life-affirming heat. Anger. Hate. Rage. These are emotions. I am angry. I feel hate. Man. It feels good to feel it. I don’t know who I am angry at in particular or who I hate at this minute but it’s like a venturi valve, as your boat sails along in the gale of this music, it’s all draining out of your hull like pus from a wound.

What do you think Wagnar or Beethoven were trying to exorcize?

If the music is good enough, you can bundle up everything. Your fear. Your hatred of yourself, your frustration. Your anger at a world that won’t be as you would like it to be. Your inability to change, your inability to change the world. The ultimate pointlessness of the whole exercise. To let the rage free in a gigantic explosion of nihilistic bliss…

And when the song is done, you’re clean. And look, if twin-bass-drum super-blast-beat drumming with organ and some dork from computer studies class breathing “Sah-tah-nahhhhhas” doesn’t have you both laughing and throwing up the horns, then this tape is not for you. Go back. Turn around.

Peste Noire — Phalenes et Pestilence – Salvatrice Averse

DRUDKH! This next one. Guitars… the riff is from heaven. If you need me, I’ll be in my hut in the forest sharpening my collection of antique swords.

WINDIR! Who doesn’t enjoy a disco boogie medieval dance-off breakdown with scream? Who? Tell me? This is SICK!!!! SICK!!! Huge song. A revalation.

I don’t want to be ANNAL… Okay, time for nasty, malignant, BLASTBEAT. Horrible skinpeeling fun. I love this shit. Someone told me this one was drum machine but I don’t believe it, what do you think? Sounds like old mate had a bad day anyway.

Oh man, I’m riding my horse across the plain while lopping heads off enemies with my sword, all while playing some of the sickest drums known to man. MGLA! I love these drums. My drummer friends sneer and say he is doing nothing special but as far as I am concerned, he’s hitting fucking hard and doing sweet twin kick shit. The rest is all swords and… man… you see why I like black now? Although there is a fair amount of just regular normal metal in this. I don’t know.

Musically utterly captivating. Cinematic. Depressing. Powerful. Massive. Leviathan are the SHIT and this song I must have listened to maybe 15 times in a row. Not because I was sad but because there is so much happening. So much.

The best band in black at the moment. Dulcimer. Drums. 37-string bass. An idea. A passion. A message!! Fuck. Blistering talent, amazing, amazing music. BOTANIST. Utterly beautiful

 

One more taster.

This is the heaviest song I have ever heard. An assault. Utterly beautiful. A howl from the guts. Terrifying. The bass… everything. It’s a work of genius. GENIUS!!

And the mixtape finishes with this 20 minute song — a fucking demo. A demo.

It’s cold.

Very, cold. And brilliant.

Get the 20 Lashes Here.

 

 

 

 

 


About the Author

Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to Top ↑