Black Metal: Evolution of the Cult

by Dayal Patterson

  “I think it’s a little strange,” admits Snorre of the tape’s legendary status. “I don’t really think it deserves so much credit, but in terms of melody and riffs it was innovative, so I see what people saw in it at the time and why people still like it. But it’s still strange because it’s guitar and bass and nothing else. I guess a year after we made it people were really starting to say they liked it and were influenced by that, so we were very happy.”

  Trøndertun folkehøgskole (Trøndertun Folk High School), where Snorre Ruch made the remarkably influential recordings known as the Trøndertun tape. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

  The absence of vocals and drums does little to dampen the spirit of the compositions; in fact, it only adds to their minimal and hypnotic quality, isolating the strange patterns that emerge from the songs. With its angular guitars, juxtaposing bass, and curious structures, the Grymyrk tape is a distinctly experimental take on the extreme metal template, and Snorre’s unique riffing and creepy guitar work in particular would have significant impact upon the later work of other Norwegian bands, including Emperor, Satyricon and even Mayhem themselves. Truly groundbreaking, it remains difficult to pinpoint the musical influences that affected Snorre’s composition style, the only clue coming from the man himself, who reveals that the epic bridge on the tape’s one new number had a most unlikely source of inspiration.

  “We have never accepted to be influenced by other metal ’cos we wanted to sound unique,” he explains, “so we say we’re influenced by children’s music and classical music and computer game music and try to recode it into metal to get a new sound from it. I do remember that on ‘Home’ I had a lack of parts, so I took one of my favorite songs of [German synthpop act] Alphaville—‘A Victory of Love’ from the Forever Young album—and stole a part from that.”

  Aptly, the incomparable nature of the songs was mirrored by their highly unusual song titles. These proved so unlike the usual extreme metal fare—and of course were not clarified by any lyrical content—that Snorre even found his motives questioned in a rare interview in Slayer, editor Metalion suggesting that perhaps these titles were some sort of joke.

  “I have a tendency to get ironic with things,” he explains today. “I have since learnt that not all people understand it. [‘Lovely Children’] was really a hate song against children, it’s about an old folklore thing that says the trolls are changing their children with human children, and through that we get terrible children, ’cos they’re really the trolls.”

  The following year would see vocals and drums finally recorded under the Thorns name, these appearing thanks to the Trøndertun tape, another highly significant release, though again one that was both unofficial and lacking the presence of most band members. Named after the college Snorre was attending at the time, the tape contained the aforementioned “Ærie Descent” (now missing the Alphaville bridge) and a new song entitled “Funeral Marches to the Grave.” This time Snorre contributed both guitars and vocals, while assisted by fellow students Ronnie K. Prize (bass) and Terje M. Kråbøl (drums), the latter of whom later went on to work with metal bands such as Faustcoven and Antidepressive Delivery.

  Proving that Snorre was a more than capable vocalist and also featuring a haunting use of synth, the recordings were somewhat less unorthodox in structure than their predecessors, but no less unique in nature. Indeed, the two songs remain largely unparalleled even today, the minimal but effective percussion and sparing use of bass capturing a truly gothic and archaic atmosphere, a tone mirrored by the occult and conspiratorial lyrics. Despite the creative success, there was no escaping the fact that the recordings featured only a quarter of the band’s official lineup, and with the distances between the musicians making progress all but impossible, Snorre and his bandmates resolved to relocate in order to make a decent go of the band.

  “I was kind of struggling to get a gang together who were interested in pulling in the same direction,” Snorre sighs. “I thought, ‘This has the right to live, I have to work harder and get a record together and start rehearsing with the guys,’ so we decided to move to Oslo. So I, Marius, and Bård, we lived together—I don’t remember if Harold was part of the band at that time, but at least the plan was to get a place and start writing an album.”

  Unfortunately, the whole endeavor proved something of a disaster. In fact, to this day the only recording under the Thorns name featuring either Marius or Bård is a 1992 rehearsal cassette known as The Thule Tape, which was actually recorded before the move.

  “We never rehearsed!” laughs Snorre. “After half a year I moved back to Trondheim. Maybe I was never that ambitious, I was very happy making riffs and music but didn’t necessarily need to complete things. I wanted to release a record though, but we never even got a place to rehearse, so you see it was a little difficult.”

  With Thorns seemingly a doomed project, Bård decided to concentrate on his other band, Emperor, while Snorre joined his old friends Mayhem, taking on the Blackthorn pseudonym and contributing to the content of the De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas album with some old Thorns riffs. Of course, the events in the Norwegian black metal drama would soon drag both men into its chaotic and violent epicenter, the result being two lengthy sentences in connection to murder—in Snorre’s case, of Euronymous himself. For Snorre it was particularly unfortunate, since he had done his best to avoid the social and criminal side of the Norwegian scene.

  “Øystein talked to me a lot about this inner circle stuff,” he recalls, “he wanted me to be part of this elite group of metal [in] Norway. I thought this was kind of silly and cute, ’cos I was reading some Conan and you have all these black circles and pompous bits and magic and yeah, it’s not for me. He accepted it, he was sort of like, ‘You are one of the closest guys here so whatever.’”

  For several years the band lay dormant, the only reminder of their existence being (somewhat ironically) the Nordic Metal: A Tribute To Euronymous compilation, which featured a slightly different version of “Ærie Descent,” recorded at Trøndertun college prior to the session that produced the two tracks included on the infamous rehearsal tape. The fact that Thorns now had two members in jail—including the group’s central creative force—certainly didn’t improve their prospects, and it began to look highly unlikely that the band would ever return to any significant activity. And indeed, that’s probably how things would have remained if not for the support of Satyricon frontman and Moonfog Records owner Sigurd “Satyr” Wongraven.

  “He called me in jail and asked if I was meddling with music of any sort and if I would be interested in releasing my old demos through his record label,” recalls Snorre. “We talked and it ended up with him giving me an offer that if I wanted to make metal again he could hook me up with a computer and sound equipment so I could make music in [prison]. I was thinking about putting the metal on the shelf and just having fun with synthesizer and whatnot, but he was like, ‘Give it another shot on metal and I will support you.’ He has been very supportive and helped me with a lot of stuff. Without him there would not be Thorns today I think.”

  Though still in jail, Snorre was nonetheless able to progress fairly steadily due to Norway’s comparatively relaxed approach to incarceration and rehabilitation, which allowed him to write and record in his cell using the equipment that Satyr had provided him.

  “The first part of the sentences are high security,” Snorre explains, “then after showing that you can be trusted, you are able to apply to more open forms of jails. There’s a jail in Tønsberg, which is where Varg was later able to escape from. It’s the sort of jail you are able to just walk out from, but no one wants to because you know you will have to serve your time anyway and there’s not much better places to serve it than an old military camp with nice surroundings and schools. So it was very free; we could walk around as we wanted and meet each other and discuss and play music and,” he pauses and laughs before adding with a hint of irony, “… yeah, have a jolly good time.”

&
nbsp; Satyr’s intervention had undoubtedly saved the group, and the first results of the band’s resurrection would come about as a direct result of a meeting with another Thorns fan and central black metal figure, namely Samoth of Emperor. Serving time in the same Tønsberg prison as Snorre—having been incarcerated in 1995 for his part in the burning of Skjold Church—their conversations within the institution would help propel Snorre into action.

  “I think we had met before on some rare occasions,” explains Snorre, “but I don’t think we had ever talked much. Samoth was like ‘Silent Samoth’ and I’m more like an easy person who jumps from subject to subject, playing a lot of jokes. So we weren’t natural for each other, but when I met him in jail we had the time to sit down and talk. I was thinking about the old Thorns songs and I thought it would be a shame if they were never recorded and I thought, ‘What if Emperor was playing the songs and recording them for me? Maybe I could even play guitar.’”

  This initial thought would soon blossom into a collaboration between the two parties, Satyr suggesting that the two bands instead release a split record, covering one another’s songs while introducing updates of earlier songs and new material. At first Snorre looked to Bård—with whom he actually served some of his sentence—but the drummer complained of being out of practice and was looking for something of a new start, not to mention the fact that he planned to remain in Oslo, whereas Snorre was determined to head back to Trondheim, presenting the same problem that had plagued the band before.

  Thus Snorre began to work on the release alone, recording the guitars in his cell and creating all the percussion electronically, blending convincing metal drum patterns with more mechanical-sounding additions. Also appearing on the record were two session members, namely Satyr on vocals and another musician credited as S.A. Titan, who was persuaded to help with programming duties and orchestration.

  “That’s a guy who was also at the prison,” Snorre reveals. “He was a classical composer dude, he went to a Wagner academy while he was there. He is like a total autist [sic] when it comes to making music—he has very high energy levels, a very special person, but he is very nice and I dragged him into it for fun, to see if we could spice up the music with some classical. And it worked—sort of. I really was never comfortable doing vocals, the reason I did the vocals on the Trøndertun tape was because there was no one around who could do it, and I was not really happy with it.”

  The Thorns half of the Emperor vs. Thorns album would feature four songs, lasting almost half an hour. These included an update of the signature song “Ærie Descent” (a track also covered by Emperor on the split), an update of the Trøndertun song “Funeral Marches to the Grave” (now renamed “Melas Khole”), a new song entitled “The Discipline of Earth” (written just prior to Snorre’s incarceration and drawing once again on the Grymyrk mythology), and “Cosmic Keys,” a cover of Emperor’s “Cosmic Keys to My Creations and Times,” with some new and rather thought-provoking lyrics. Retaining the slow pace and eerie, depressive leanings—mirrored by the bleak metaphysical and quasi-scientific lyrics—the recordings showcased a bigger and more symphonic sound, with the orchestral synth work added in Oslo following Snorre’s release.

  It was certainly a more than convincing return, and sharing a CD with the hugely popular Emperor meant that Thorns were introduced—or at least reintroduced—to a new generation of fans, the first three thousand of whom were treated to an eight-song bonus CD featuring both the Grymyrk and Trøndertun tapes (albeit with the earlier version of “Ærie Descent”). To support the release, Snorre was encouraged into giving a number of interviews, the guitarist now going under the pseudonym S.W. Krupp and sporting sunglasses and a shaved head, which initially caused some confusion among fans. One asked via the Moonfog website how the band functioned with both members in prison, to which Snorre memorably replied:

  “Thorns function excellent whitout [sic] those two villains. They were up to no good anyways, and did not contribute to what Thorns is all about. Namely positive thinking, good attitude and politeness!”

  Alongside the Emperor split was an equally high-profile appearance on Moonfog’s tribute album Darkthrone Holy Darkthrone, where Thorns provided the standout track, namely a cover of the classic “The Pagan Winter.” Inspired, curiously, by the Transformers animations, and in particular the most robotically voiced character, Soundwave, the song echoed futuristic concerns in both its rewritten lyrics (“The 666 machines are re-powered …”) and its electronically distorted vocals.

  “I always was a fan of science fiction and stuff like that,” explains Snorre. “I like playing around with vocoders and stuff like that and I guess the vocoder is the reason I made the song like that—to make it sound really cyber-sounding.”

  The content of Thorns’ 2001 self-titled record would combine both sides of the group’s musical personality. Lacking the grandiose overtones of S.A. Titan’s orchestration, it is a record whose cold aggression and industrial overtones—evident in both the guitar sound and use of synths, samples, and programming—sit comfortably alongside other Moonfog releases of the period. At the same time, the angular immediacy of songs such as “Existence” and “Stellar Master Elite” is balanced by the more creeping malevolence of the two-part “Underneath the Universe” and “Shifting Channels,” which give the slow, brooding feel of earlier material a more mechanized twist.

  “I guess my personal taste at the time,” Snorre comments when asked about the inspirations behind the record. “I go through phases, get new interests and lose other interests. [At that time it was] mainly Front 242, Nitzer Ebb—I thought that Front 242 was very hard in an electronic way and was inspired by that. I also listened a lot to [Klaus] Schulze and Tangerine Dream, I was always a fan of analog synth and music that’s like … unearthly.”

  Despite the accolades the album received from the press—Terrorizer placed it at number two in its album of the year list and in the top forty of its album of the decade countdown—Snorre remains somewhat unhappy with the recording that would largely define him for over a decade afterward.

  “I think that a lot of industrialized metal sounds crappy and I don’t think the attempts we have made have been good enough to live on,” he sighs. “I think metal [I make in the future] will always be more brutal and honest and to the core and as little produced as possible. I’m never happy with anything,” he continues with a chuckle. “I like it, but I could wish for another production and other details, and the recording process was traumatizing as well.” He laughs again, “It took so long. I had to do so many hours work on it alone and you get really, really, really fed up with it. I couldn’t listen to it for a long time afterwards without feeling sick.”

  Thorns Vs Emperor, released in 1999, marked the return of this seminal outfit and saw old Thorns material given an updating by Snorre and a number of guest musicians.

  As his words suggest, Snorre had once again handled the lion’s share of the work, contributing guitars, bass, programming, keyboard, and even vocals on the closing electronic number, “Vortex.” Alongside him was veteran drummer and longtime acquaintance Hellhammer, and the remainder of the vocals were shared by Satyr and Aldrahn of label mates Dødheimsgard, both of whom contributed lyrics alongside Snorre himself, who continued in the philosophical and scientific vein of the Emperor split.

  “It was like a dystopian futuristic view, maybe some introspective stuff,” Snorre said. “Aldrahn’s lyrics are half-crazy and some are very negative. Actually the ‘Stellar Master Elite’ song was my attempt to twist the misanthropic thing in black metal into something positive, but it sounds only fascistic,” he complains with a laugh. “Honestly, it was the first song written for that album and I was thinking, ‘Fuck black metal, I want to make something really positive about humankind!’”

  Despite the strong feedback the album received, it would sadly be the last Thorns release for some considerable time. In the year following its release, Snorre would instead collaborate wi
th 3rd and the Mortal guitarist Finn Olav Holthe to create an aural accompaniment to an exhibition by renowned Norwegian artist Bjarne Melgaard (who has since angered members of the scene, notably Metalion, due to unauthorized use of images from Slayer Magazine), which included “modifications/mutilations” of text, images, and music from earlier Thorns releases. Thorns Ltd would be born from this venture, with Holthe and Snorre working alongside improvisational musician Jon T. Wesseltoft to create electronic ambient/noise music and sound for artists such as Banks Violette, though Holthe would eventually leave the group in 2006.

  Wesseltoft’s continued work with Thorns Ltd, meanwhile, would coincide with him joining Thorns itself, the two working with Aldrahn, Antidepressive Delivery guitarist Christian Broholt, and God Seed/Goat the Head drummer Kenneth Kapstad from around 2007 onward. The majority of recording would be completed a few years later, though a relocation on Snorre’s part would delay him completing the finishing touches to the record. Keen to avoid the more processed leanings of the predecessor, the Thorns follow-up was consciously written as something of a return to the group’s more earthy beginnings.

  Better late than never: The suitably otherworldly and science fiction-esque artwork of the long-delayed—and decidedly industrial-leaning—debut album.

  “No synths, no samples, we’ve been trying to work with just guitars, drums, and vocals to see how much we can get out of it,” Snorre enthuses. “We wanted a more stripped-down sound, we like it that way, we are tired of this pompous overproduced stuff, we want it to sound a little old-school again. My nearest partner in writing the songs is Jon Wesseltoft, he lives in Oslo and is not a band guy, he’s more in the noise/jazz scene, but he has a long history of listening to metal. He knows me and Thorns so well he can write Thorns riffs better than me almost, so I have utilized him and we have made a lot of music together.”