Maintaining the high pace but boasting a far bigger, clearer sound, the album also introduced new gravel-throated vocalist Erik “Legion” Hagstedt, whom Morgan had first encountered while Legion was in a studio recording vocals for Ophthalamia, a black metal ambient act featuring members of Abruptum, a project Morgan contributed to under his “Evil” pseudonym.
“I heard his voice and I really admired what he was doing,” explains Morgan. “We got to know each other and became really good friends, we really had a connection. We actually fired [Joakim]. We were into doing more touring, we wanted to expand … People don’t always want to focus, to work, to tour, and it’s better then to be out of a band, out of the picture.”
As well as cementing the band’s musical style, the album also set another precedent thanks to the historical nature of its content, with “Glorification of the Black God” being a black metal adaptation of Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain” and the song “Dracul va Domni Din Nou in Transilvania” telling the story of Romania’s Vlad Tepes, more commonly known as Vlad the Impaler. The story of the notoriously brutal and sadistic Wallachian ruler would continue on 1998’s Nightwing, the band dedicating the second half of the album to telling the story of his life, a subject with which Morgan and Legion were both fascinated.
Nightwing and its follow-up Panzer Division Marduk both continued in a similar vein, focusing on high-speed brutality while boasting increasingly dynamic, clear, and punchy productions courtesy of The Abyss and Peter Tägtgren, who had now toured with the band as a second guitarist. Interestingly, 1999’s Panzer Division Marduk is the second part of a loose “Blood, Fire, Death” trilogy concept—another crafty Bathory reference—and where Nightwing represented “blood,” Panzer represented “fire” thanks to its focus on firepower, the record being saturated with military imagery, in the sleeve design, lyrics, title, and even music itself, thanks to the use of battlefield samples. It was a powerful aesthetic that recalled bands such as Bolt Thrower and one that would later be echoed by other black metal bands including Swedish supergroup War (again featuring members of Abruptum and Ophthalamia) and German band Endstille.
“I was reading a lot of history and some things inspire you so much you cannot let them go,” Morgan remarks. “I was really inspired and was reading about it so much that I decided to incorporate these [themes] along with the other things we were doing, so some of the lyrics have a historical basis, some have not. I was interested in history since I was young and I have about four hundred books on World War II, along with books on Swedish and European history. I’m interested in lots of parts of history, but some creates music in my head and some doesn’t. I tend not to be inspired by music, I tend to be inspired by things. When I watch a documentary about certain subjects it creates a soundtrack in my mind, that’s the way it is with any historical happenings I use, [it’s about] the picture it creates in my mind.”
Strangely, while the cover to 1997 EP Here’s No Peace had actually featured a German Panzer tank, the cover of the Panzer Division Marduk ended up featuring a non-German Centurion tank thanks to a decision by label Osmose, who perhaps foresaw the problematic nature of such imagery. The original image would eventually adorn the cover, however, on the 2008 reissue by Blooddawn Productions and Regain Records.
“It’s a panzer but it’s an English panzer,” explains Morgan of the original release. “Actually it’s a Swedish Centurion tank, made by the English, but that’s the Swedish version. I wanted to use another photo, but the record label was a bit hesitant at that time to use things from World War II, so I found this picture taken [after the war] in Sweden. It really reflected the spirit of the album—aggressive and right in your face.”
Perhaps predictably, given the Germanic-sounding title and the fact that the album was arriving on the back of speculation about the band’s political affiliation, the subtle difference between a Swedish and German tank escaped most people. The band also hadn’t done much to help the situation with the 1997 live album Live in Germania, whose title and eagle-adorned cover had caused many raised eyebrows. That being said, it’s worth noting that the eagle design was the same one on all One Deutsche Mark coins at the time, a point the head of Osmose Records highlighted by changing some currency in France and sending the offended parties the coin in question.
“Yeah, it caused problems,” recalls Morgan. “A lot of problems. But we overcame them all and I don’t care. We’re artists, we do what we do, if anyone wants to fuck with us, we’ll fuck back. It’s strange how people react to things. If you do a movie about a certain historical topic nobody would care, if you did a painting, nobody would care, but if you make music about it, it seems to be very annoying to people. But some people cannot see beyond certain things, because they are too politically correct to use their own heads. Magazines reacted very badly—they were faxing local promoters telling them to boycott us. But we only got stronger so it didn’t really work. They wanted us to go out and say we’re not this and we’re not that, but I don’t have an interest in saying ‘I’m not this or that,’ ’cos I didn’t say I’m that in the beginning, you know? I’m not here to apologize for what we do … Even Slayer and Motörhead covered the same topics…. I don’t care about politics, I read a lot about history and politics but I don’t have a political view you know?”
All the same, the band did make an effort to explain in interviews that there was a clear difference between exploring real historical themes and advocating Nazi ideologies. This sated some critics, though the fact that Morgan had already said he was proud of his grandfather serving as a German officer in World War II somewhat undermined these statements.
Ironically, Marduk’s attempt to distance themselves from extreme right-wing ideologies also ended up fuelling something of a backlash from certain elements in the extreme right of the black metal scene, who felt betrayed by such a move, the band even being attacked by name in the lyrics of Ukrainian act Aryan Terrorism, a side project of prominent NSBM band Nokturnal Mortum. Despite attacks from both sides, however, Marduk largely stuck to their guns, becoming one of the more successful bands in the international black metal scene and a regular and well-reputed touring act, a fact underlined by the release of another live album, Infernal Eternal, in 2000.
Indeed, by now the band had become a reliable fixture of the Swedish scene, to the extent that they were even at risk of becoming predictable, with 2001’s La Grande Danse Macabre and 2003’s World Funeral generally being received as solid but certainly not groundbreaking releases. It’s telling that perhaps the biggest change from Panzer Division Marduk and the two albums that followed was the fact that the band were no longer signed to Osmose, instead releasing their works through their own record label, Blooddawn Productions, and distributing them via Swedish label Regain.
Stagnation was looming, but a significant turning point for the band was soon to occur following World Funeral, thanks to the departure of vocalist and frontman Legion. A somewhat acrimonious event at the time, one can’t help but suspect that ultimately the split was beneficial to both parties, Legion going on to front the band Devian (also featuring Emil Dragutinovic, the drummer of Marduk from 2002 to 2006) and Marduk completely rejuvenating themselves with the addition of Daniel “Mortuus” Rosten, better known as Arioch, mainman of “Funeral Mist.”
“Mortuus was the only one I wanted, so I set out to get him,” Morgan states simply. “I contacted him and we spoke and we shared a lot of visions and ideas for what it could become. I wanted someone not only with focus, but a strong personality that would bring something new to the band. I didn’t want a replacement that would sound exactly the same. I’d heard his voice and thought he used it in a very powerful way that would fit this band perfectly.”
Frankly, it was a collaboration that surprised a lot of people. Funeral Mist represented a leading light in Sweden’s “third generation” black metal underground, a slow-growing hotbed of revolutionary fanatics who were pu
tting the country on the map with critically acclaimed and deeply religious (in the Satanic sense of course) efforts. In contrast, Marduk had become rather closer to the establishment, and were in danger of becoming viewed as safe by the scene. Yet the combination of the two forces would prove to be explosive, Marduk once again becoming a relevant, and even cutting-edge band, and Mortuus’ talents reaching a far greater audience than before.
Vocalist since 2004, Mortuus surveys the battlefield. Photo: Ester Segarra.
“Morgan called me and I thought about it for a few days,” confirms Mortuus, a polite but extremely serious individual, whose sizable frame and guarded manner reflect his extensive training in martial arts. “After we discussed our goals, I realized we have lots in common about our opinion of black metal and our visions. One of the first things Morgan said was that I would have complete creative control of my work, which was essential.”
“As far as a bigger audience goes: I am a musician, I want to spread my music. I have a message in my lyrics and I want as many as possible to hear it and I never try to have this underground, only-a-select-few-can-hear-it thing. I want as many as possible to hear my music, otherwise I wouldn’t release it, I would just play for myself. It makes no sense—if you don’t want people to hear your music, you should just record a demo and hand it to your friends that you trust. But why would you do that? I want everyone to get my albums, if they’re not into what I’m doing, maybe they will be after they hear the album. That’s more the point, rather than just keeping it away from everyone.”
Vitally, Morgan and Mortuus also discovered common ground in their standpoint on Satanism, which plays a prominent role in both men’s lives, and which both maintain is a mandatory element within both the genre and Marduk itself.
“All black metal is religious in my eyes,” Morgan states. “All these different types of black metal … to me it’s black metal or it’s not black metal. People ask me, ‘Are you black metal?’ Yes we are. We are one of probably only five bands who are black metal, ’cos no one wants to be black metal, they want to be ‘neo-this’ and ‘experimental-that,’ but we are proud to carry the banner of black metal.”
“That’s what black metal is,” concurs Mortuus. “If it’s not about devil worship or destructive Satanism, I couldn’t call it black metal. It’s not like black metal has to be Satanic—if it’s not Satanic, it’s not black metal, it’s ‘something else-metal’—there’s a million labels, choose one of them. Black metal is Satanic metal. I really don’t like to label myself, but if there would be a label for it, it would be devil worship. That’s what it is, even if I don’t like the term.”
“It’s something you discover in life and it’s the call of your life, I would say, and it will always be,” adds Morgan of his beliefs. “I think it’s very clear with the lyrics and everything why we do it. For me it’s a religion. I would say it’s both metaphorical and literal, that’s how I look upon it. [And] it’s not that you have to have the exact same ideas to be in the band, but you have to have a certain shared ground in your philosophy or it wouldn’t work. We share a lot of devotions and ideas and a burning desire for what we do. Otherwise I think it would be hard to work together on music and lyrics.”
The first recorded result of this unholy union was 2004’s Plague Angel, an album that proved to be a storming return to form. Alternating between high-tempo blasts (courtesy of drummer Emil Dragutinovic, who had replaced Fredrik Anderssonon on the previous album) and slower, moodier numbers such as “Perish In Flames” and “Seven Angels, Seven Trumpets,” the album boasted both energy and dynamism, along with sharper riffs and a vocal performance that was both unconventional and memorable. Lyrically, the album continued in a familiar vein, exploring military and World War II themes in numbers such as “Steel Inferno,” “The Hangman of Prague” (a reference to SS general Reinhard Heydrich) and “Warshau,” while also tapping the Bible for inspiration in numbers such as “Everything Bleeds,” based on Joan of Arc, and the Milton-esque “Life’s Emblem.”
“Religious fanaticism has always been a great inspiration, especially Christian fanaticism,” replies Mortuus. “It highlights the darker sides of, for example, Christianity. I would say it’s impossible not to discover that, if you study the Bible it is ten times as sick as any black metal band today.”
“You have to know your enemy,” smiles Morgan, “and there’s also a lot of fascinating things to find there.”
Such inspirations were more than clear in the 2007 follow-up ROM 5:12, named after the verse in the New Testament book of Romans that reads “Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.” It would prove an apt title for thve album, given the dominant themes involved, as Morgan related to me in somewhat bleak terms when we met in Stockholm for an interview for Metal Hammer UK a few months before its release.
“That chapter really reflects the spirit, the atmosphere and the lyrics of the album … There is a lot of thinking about death and how it is looked upon by humans, and how that perspective changes from time to time. We have taken a lot of influence from the German baroque writers for example, who looked at humans as merely a hopeless pile of bones, a hand full of nothing. ‘Scepter and crown must tumble down …’” he quotes before pausing. “The word I would use to best describe the album is ‘vanity.’ The whole human race is vanity. All the humans here,” he gestures at the other occupants in the bar, “are just ashes, bones. Nothing.”
Including guest vocal appearances from Alan “Naihmass Nemtheanga” Averill of Ireland’s Primordial and ex-Marduk member Joakim Bothberg, the album also saw a far greater input from Mortuus, his personality shining through in the lyrics, which eschew war themes in favor of explorations of Christianity and mortality (familiar topics in Funeral Mist) as well as in the forty-four-page CD booklet of macabre medieval and religious imagery that he designed.
If anything, 2009’s Wormwood was even closer to Funeral Mist territory, carrying with it the same raw, stark, and unsettlingly intimate vibe of Mist’s Marantha, released earlier the same year. Representing something of a departure for Marduk—as well as a veritable sonic journey for the listener—the album reveals numerous surprising twists, from the rousing “Funeral Dawn” to the haunting details and emotive riffing of “Whorecrown,” through to the minimalist “Unclosing the Curse.” A startlingly bold move, the album was undoubtedly more challenging than its two predecessors, but perhaps all the more rewarding for it, and was widely praised by both critics and fans. In many respects Mortuus seems to have allowed the band to tap into something more personal and nightmarish, in contrast to the broader strokes of earlier material.
2012’s Serpent Sermon did not move away entirely from such bleak pastures, a point highlighted by the creepy “Souls for Belial” and the brooding “Temple of Decay,” which backs Mortuus’ croaked utterances with atmospheric chanted vocals. Nonetheless, the album also saw the band utilizing a warmer production and coloring the riffing and song structures with a groove and epic overtone that hint at a similar accessibility and sense of stirring drama as the works of younger countrymen such as Watain.
A flyer for one of Marduk’s regular live shows.
For a band often pigeonholed as somewhat one-dimensional, Marduk have exhibited a surprising amount of variation during their twenty-plus years. Whatever era one favors, the fact that they have been going so long, consistently recording and touring the world, remains impressive. In fact, playing live is still of utmost importance to the band, with Morgan’s own ambitions for the future focusing largely touring new parts of the world, something that might suggest a shift in his attitude from earlier days.
“I believe in the power of our music, particularly live in front of an audience,” he concludes. “I think it shows its most triumphant part when it gets right in your face. For me every country has its good and bad parts, but the opportunity to play many parts of the world for me has always b
een very fascinating, the true dedication of places like South America … We like to play the parts where not everybody plays. We were one of the first bands to play in Guatamala, Salvador, Venezuela—that was an amazing experience. People so dedicated there was fire in the air, you know? The feeling of playing in front of such a fanatic crowd is totally magic. There’s a lot of parts we still haven’t been … We’re excited and thrilled at the opportunity to even play in Africa, places like that. I don’t know if they have a scene, but later on for sure. I’d like to cover more of Asia as well. You still have the black-clad legions in the old Morbid shirts, you know? There always will be people in every country who are loyal and dedicated.”
34
DISSECTION AND WATAIN
SWEDEN PART II
“When I was younger, I was obsessed with Dissection—the urgency and intensity of those classic first two albums was intoxicating to my teenage mind. Coupled with that classic Necrolord artwork, they presented the complete package, blending aggression and blistering speed with a sense of genuine melancholy. Okay, so the late Jon Nodtveidt was something of a maniac but there’s few that can deny the man’s prodigious talent and lasting legacy. That so many continue to ape his achievements speaks volumes.”
Black Metal: Evolution of the Cult Page 47