Outside of Eastern Europe, it is arguably Finland that has dominated the pagan/folk black metal scene—perhaps inevitable given the massive popularity of folk music in the country and the fact that the highly successful folk metal revival has been dominated by Finnish bands. A somewhat polarizing affair, this success has pushed bands like Finntroll out of the black metal scene altogether, while leaving less accessible acts deep within the underground. Such largely undiscovered groups include the prolific Wyrd, Draugnim, and Häive (who—like Nokturnal Mortum and Negură Bunget—incorporate myriad traditional instruments, including “self-made kantele, mouth harps, glass bottles and straw”).
Indeed, Finnish folk black metal tends to include a considerable number of acoustic instruments and be very much nature-inspired, the songs far earthier and less bouncy than the straight “folk metal” bands in Finland. All the same, it’s interesting to note that like early black folk pioneer Fenriz, the source of these band’s folk influences does not necessarily come directly from traditional folk music itself, but instead often arrives secondhand from older rock/metal bands who utilized aspects of traditional folk.
“The biggest single release that has influenced me both musically and lyrically is, without a doubt, Tales from the Thousand Lakes by Amorphis,” vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Narqath of Wyrd explained to me in Terrorizer. “It got me interested in folklore and mythology and incorporating folk elements to metal. Traditional folk has never been a conscious influence for Wyrd, because I’ve never listened to it. But I suppose it’s something that’s in your blood, and has an unintentional influence through all the old Finnish pop stuff, which has a very strong Slavonic melancholy in its spirit.”
Ultimately, where folk and Viking black metal goes from here is unclear. Given black metal’s frequent preoccupation with the past, it seems likely that such historical, cultural, and musical inspirations will continue to be drawn upon to varying degrees, perhaps expanding due to a trickle-down effect from mainstream folk metal. All the same, given its transitory nature, folk and Viking black metal seem to be sub-genres destined to remain relatively sparsely populated; given the context it is actually apt that as listeners we are frequently forced into the past for lessons on the effectiveness of folk within black metal.
Speaking more widely, at this point black metal as a whole has arguably managed to become a form of folk music in itself. It has proved itself to be a seemingly universal voice with reoccurring key values, found in every continent on Earth and frequently incorporating distinct localizations in the many territories where it raises its head. With black metal’s influence still spreading, this pattern only looks set to continue, and what musical combinations this will bring, only time will tell.
42
A TURN FOR THE WEIRD
PART I
GIVEN THE SPARSE and fragmented collection of bands that made up the black metal scene in its early days, diversity unavoidably became a defining characteristic of the genre. What is interesting, however, is that this diversity survived the intense process of unification that happened in Norway in the early nineties. Euronymous may have urged uniformity of appearance and belief, but his eclectic musical taste meant the same attempts were never made to streamline black metal’s sound—indeed, by defining the genre solely by its Satanic ethos, Euronymous freed many musicians creatively.
Many key acts of the nineties would unwittingly create entire sub-genres through their innovation: symphonic black metal would come about thanks to the work of bands such as Emperor, Cradle of Filth, Dimmu Borgir, and Gehenna; the electronic dabblings of Beherit and Mysticum would help create industrial black metal; Abruptum would pioneer ambient black metal; Ulver and Isengard folk black metal, and so on. As Kristoffer Rygg has already suggested, before the genre became so narrowly defined musically—primarily due to Burzum and Darkthrone (much to their chagrin)—it was seen as imperative for bands to be unique. Along with the artistic and intellectual ambitions in the genre, it was probably inevitable that black metal would soon immerse itself in an unambiguously progressive and experimental period that still influences the genre today.
For whatever reason—perhaps because it had the largest pool of musicians at the time—the majority of explicitly experimental acts initially hailed from Norway. Three notable bands were Ved Buens Ende, In the Woods…, and Fleurety, all of whom dared to tread highly individual paths, their works ultimately met by a polarizing mixture of acclaim, indifference, and even contempt.
Debuting with the 1994 demo Those Who Caress the Pale (many of whose numbers would be released in a more refined state the following year on the full-length Written in Waters), Ved Buens Ende was comprised of three forward-thinking musicians, Carl-Michael Eide and Skoll (both already mentioned due to their role in Ulver) and Yusaf Parvez. Together these young men forged some of the most avant-garde black metal created to date, introducing a sound that would only be hinted at a decade later via acts such as Deathspell Omega. Drawing on influences as diverse as jazz, folk, and prog rock—as well as second-wave black metal—the wonderfully bleak compositions still sound fresh today, the (mostly clean) vocals, dissonant riffing, angular percussion, and challenging time signatures combining to offer a level of complexity all but unexplored at that time.
Sadly, VBE would split in 1997 due to differing musical visions, reuniting ten years later only to discover the same problem was now even more pronounced. Carl-Michael then formed the similarly experimental Virus with Einar Sjursø, while Yusef concentrated on the band Dødheimsgard.
In the Woods … would survive somewhat longer, though their time within the black metal sphere would be limited. Debuting in 1993 with the Isle of Men demo, and building upon this two years later with debut album Heart of the Ages, the outfit formed after the split of Green Carnation—a progressive metal project formed by Tchort of Emperor in 1990—of whom drummer Anders Kobro and brothers Christopher (bass) and Christian Botteri (guitars) had been a part. Bringing a hugely expansive approach to a folky Norse template, the group contrasted increasingly prominent prog and psychedelic overtones (later the band would tellingly release covers of Jefferson Airplane, Pink Floyd, and King Crimson) with harsh, high-pitched vocals and traditional second-wave riffing.
With obvious heathen overtones, the band initially shared parallels with acts such as Ulver or Primordial, but upon the release of 1997’s excellent Omnio it was clear the band had left behind any black metal elements to instead pursue a more progressive rock/metal direction. 1999’s Strange in Stereo would be the group’s swan song, the band’s split neatly coinciding with the reformation of Green Carnation, who quickly forged a successful career a considerable way from the black metal scene.
FLEURETY
“Fleurety has always been about creativity, and daring to tread outside the familiar paths. Alexander and Svein-Egil are both nonconformists in the truest sense of the word, refusing to release albums, or live on the same continent for that matter.”
—Einar Sjursø (Virus)
Given that heavy metal is often considered a form of “outsider art,” and black metal even more so, it’s little surprise that explicitly experimental black metal bands tend to condemn themselves to a fairly limited audience. As a movement black metal is both fearlessly pioneering and fiercely conservative: on the one hand it rewards progression and artistic endeavor, but the flipside is that bands who completely disregard genre convention still risk alienating an already niche audience. It’s a lesson Norway’s Fleurety learned first-hand, yet emerged all the stronger for it, going on to find critical acclaim despite initially being misunderstood—and even reviled—within their home country.
Formed in December 1991 and named after an entity found in an encyclopedia of demons, Fleurety was created by Alexander Nordgaren and Svein Egil Hatlevik (or Varg and Nebiros, as they were initially known), two musicians from the village of Ytre Enebakk, some thirty kilometers south of Oslo. While the story of the duo’s move from death metal to black me
tal closely mirrors that of many of their countrymen, their youth and relative isolation from the scene resulted in them joining the party later than many of the key Norwegian black metal bands.
“I got into black metal during the golden years,” confirms Svein, who has at various time contributed vocals, guitars, bass, and synths. “Me and Alexander were in a band at the time called Transmogrification which was more influenced by American death metal and bands like Metallica. We were very fascinated by a flyer we got from the record shop Helvete but the first black metal album I bought was an album by Samael called Worship Him and I just thought, ‘Hmmm, what’s all the fuss about?’ The first time I started liking black metal was when I heard Darkthrone’s A Blaze in the Northern Sky, in the spring of ’92. Transmogrification lasted a couple of months, then we were sucked into this whirling vortex of black metal. We wanted to be demonic as well, like the other people.” He laughs before adding, “That was kind of the only choice you had, everything else seemed dull and boring.”
For the duo—as for so many other musicians in the underground metal scene—the transformation proved to be a total one. “I usually compare it to a sect,” Svein laughs. “You become a young, adolescent man and you’re looking for something interesting, when everything else seems boring and dull, and black metal seems so different. It was very all-consuming and I think that’s very typical of people back then as it seemed so radiant and attractive. It was more than death metal or hardcore, more than any other subculture. It was taking shape in front of your eyes, whereas if you’re a punk or a skateboard kid it’s something that’s already been established. But this was very fresh and diverse and no one really knew what this new thing was all about, you got the sense that something was happening that hadn’t happened before.
“We were a couple of years younger, so it was kind of frightening to meet these people, that was also part of the fascination. Most of the time you were feeling alone and apart from this black metal thing, because I come from a small village and no one really knew what this new thing was until the paper started writing about church burnings and murders. It was like you had this secret and that was something strong, and it felt very special, being the only two black metal kids. It was you versus everybody.”
This sense of excitement and esotericism shines through on Black Snow, the band’s first and only demo, released in spring 1993. Produced by Carl August Tidemann—later of Arcturus—the tape bore a clear yet distinctly lo-fi and scratchy sound that only added to its wonderfully obscure atmosphere. Utilizing relatively simple guitar passages and an often crawling pace, the songs hint slightly at the more avant-garde direction the band would make their name with—not least second track “Mortuus Est Dei Filius,” which begins with Svein apparently assaulting his keyboard.
A flyer for Fleurety’s Black Snow demo, 1993.
However, what really sets the demo apart from pretty much anything is the insanely shrill, piercing vocals produced by Alexander. Unsettling, even painful, they make the demo very much an acquired taste. This, coupled with the duo’s distance from the rest of the Norwegian black metal scene, provoked a level of hostility usually reserved for death metal or Christian bands, with criticisms thrown by both Mysticum and fellow envelope-pushers Ulver. As if that wasn’t enough, Svein even ended up being attacked at his home by some disgruntled members of another local black metal band.
“There was one time when people came to my place but it was a small incident,” Svein recalls with a chuckle of bemusement. “It was an adolescent thing; you have to take into consideration that most of the people at this time were in high school or younger. It was mostly a war of words. It’s not like drive-by shootings or people trying to control the drug market in one area of town, nothing like that.”
While the band might have been making some unwelcome waves locally, their demo was already turning heads in the international underground, and the English label Aesthetic Death soon signed the band for a seven-inch release.
Alexander Nordgaren and Svein Egil Hatlevik of Fleurety in 1994.
Photo courtesy of Svein Egil Hatlevik.
“It was more popular outside of Norway than inside Norway because the general climate at that time was that every new band was a ‘trendy band’ unless you met them and they were already your pals. We didn’t know that many people in the scene and their attitude was, ‘Oh, we don’t know these people so they have to be trendy,’ it was a very simple logic. But we had our own project and our own goals and we were very confident with our music at that time and eventually got the record deal. Then we had a feeling that things were happening, this kind of teenage confidence when you think you’re king of the world.”
Following in a similar vein to Black Snow—even opening with a rerecording of the demo’s closing number, “Profanations Beneath the Bleeding Stars”—A Darker Shade of Evil was nonetheless a rather more formidable listen, benefiting from a meatier production, and a greater level of ambition and musical ability, introducing clean melodic leads, acoustic guitars, and more adventurous drum patterns. The inhuman screams remained, although this would be their final airing, due to Alexander apparently damaging his vocal cords during the recording, not entirely surprising to anyone who’s heard the record. Svein, however, has another theory…
“I know that he felt a very strong pain in his throat after the recording,” he explains, “but I don’t think that he’d be able to sing in that voice as a grown-up man. I think he was fifteen or sixteen when we recorded that, and then you are still in the process of the voice breaking. A change in vocal style would have been inevitable anyway.”
The duo soon found a suitable home at the UK-based Misanthropy Records (a label whose roster was largely made up of bands from the more progressive and experimental side of extreme metal, such as In The Woods…, Ved Buens Ende, and Beyond Dawn) and unleashed their debut full-length, Min Tid Skal Komme, in the summer of 1995. A huge leap forward musically, it accomplished the seemingly impossible task of being genuinely innovative while still sitting comfortably in the black metal genre.
Min Tid Skal Komme, 1995, arguably showcased the current post-black metal sound a decade before it became popular.
While the long, tranquil, folk-inspired acoustic guitar passages, expressive leads, desolate riffing, blasting drums, melancholy atmosphere, and occasional use of synths meant that the album shared much with records like Satyricon’s Dark Medieval Times, there was also clearly a more progressive edge that revealed itself in unconventional song structures, psychedelic guitar work, unusual time changes, and busy, almost funk-like bass work. Now featuring more traditional black metal vocals alongside the soaring and haunting voice of Marian Aas Hansen—who attended the same school as Svein and Alexander and would go on to achieve some success as a pop singer—the album married technical and emotive aspirations with ease, and arguably predated the post-black metal sound of bands such as Agalloch or Alcest by a decade.
“I think there was a rather upfront psychedelic prog seventies influence, a certain jazz influence, a certain folk music influence… and of course black metal!” says Svein. “We were listening to Pink Floyd and King Crimson and got the jazz influence indirectly from that sort of music. The folk influences were more from the kind of music that you have been hearing ever since childhood in Norway.”
“It might have something to do with the general isolation we were in,” ponders Svein of the band’s consistently innovative approach. “We had our own perception of what kind of music we wanted to make. When we came to buy records at the Helvete shop we would buy all kinds of strange stuff, not just metal but prog or strange electronic stuff, a lot of diverse kinds of music. That was one of the rules or guidelines that you could get from the first years of black metal, that if your music or band sounded like some other band you were worthless and there was no reason why you should release records. So we were very deliberate that we wanted to make a contribution to broaden the spectrum of what this new style of music cou
ld be. We were breastfed that this was how it was supposed to be, so for me it was very natural that black metal would be a very experimental form of music. You had bands like Ved Buens Ende, Arcturus, to a certain extent Mayhem, Dødheimsgard, In the Woods…, Solefald—there were a lot of bands who had the same, or similar, mentality. One reason why you can say [the movement] did stagnate was you had certain benchmark releases, milestones, a lot of the albums by Darkthrone [for example] and people thought, ‘Ah, this is how black metal is supposed to be.’ The music people made became more streamlined.”
The eclectic Department of Apocalyptic Affairs, 2000.
Fleurety’s next effort, the EP Last-Minute Lies, demonstrated a band that was certainly in no danger of becoming streamlined in any way, shape, or form. The record saw the band shedding the extreme vocals and many other black metal traits, though the beautiful melancholy of the debut remains. Misanthropy were unimpressed, however, after hearing the song “Vortex,” as they felt it too experimental and too similar to Ved Buens Ende (“could be a point,” admits Svein, “since that is the only song that we wrote inspired by Ved Buens Ende”), and let the band go. Recorded between June 1996 and September 1997, the record would not be released until 1999, due to a delay finding another label, the band ultimately settling on Supernal Records after meeting its owner at Mayhem’s 1997 London show, where Alexander was performing second guitar duties.
As it turned out, Last-Minute Lies was pretty reflective of the band’s new approach. Their second full-length, Department of Apocalyptic Affairs (released in 2000 but recorded in 1998), proved an even more varied work, with each song seemingly unconnected to the rest, not least because of the fourteen guest musicians who appear on the album. Given the band’s unpopularity in Norway in the early days, there was no small irony in the fact that so many musicians from the country’s black metal community—including members of Arcturus, Ved Buens Ende, and Mayhem—appeared. In an even more bizarre twist, the album not only featured guest appearances by the once-critical Kristoffer “Garm” Rygg, but was also co-produced by the now good friend of the band.
Black Metal: Evolution of the Cult Page 58