Black Metal and the American Perspective

“They’re racist; they’re Nazis; they’re mean, they’re cold; they hate Americans.”

If you’re familiar with black metal, then you’ve problem heard these phrases when describing one of the most controversial music genres founded. This is the man that sent me an email back in June of 2021; this man, is the founder of the illustrious band, Mayhem. I’ll spare you the diatribe about the history of this band. After all, if you’ve read my previous post about Helvete—then you’ve probably went out of your way to Google about Vikernes and the controversy swirling around this group.

When I first received his email, I was going through my junk folder and came across “Video.” I opened it, read it, and said to myself, “This has surely got to be a joke.” I must admit that I’m extremely skeptical of people when first doing business. In my experience, most emails sent are mostly consisted of conmen looking to scam you or try to dupe you into wasting your time and energy for little reciprocation. When you have limited time to begin with, this is something that’s extremely precious…believe me. At any rate, I hesitated when I read the email. I think it was a good hour before I contemplated just deleting it. I received yet another email from him stating that he was the founder of Mayhem in case he had doubts.

I about fainted.

The email was, in fact, the truth. Well, to make a long story short, after numerous video chats, concept designs, and a music video layer—I discovered that the email in my junk folder all those months ago would become a defining moment in my career.

Kjetil asked me to come to Norway and perform onstage with them at Inferno Festival. Of course, you all know that story, and if wasn’t for you all—I wouldn’t be able to tell the story I now.

When Jim and I arrived in Oslo, we met up at a metal bar called Kniven. We had our drinks, and watched as a tall, slim figure came through the entrance. He was warm, inviting, and even gave me a hug. We talked a lot about politics in Norway, politics in the States, and the excitement we had for the festival. Kjetil bought us beer—which was something we were most grateful for, and thanked us for coming all the way to Norway.

About ten beers later, Kjetil was running high on emotions and was very eager to share a hug and a photo moment with me. It was one of the greatest moments of my life, and I found out very quickly how passionate and soft this man of mystery was.

The irony about black metal is quite funny if you think about it. People in the States have this idea of Scandinavia being a very dark, gloomy atmosphere filled with hateful people—particularly with black metal musicians. It’s wrong. Yeah, I won’t be idealistic and say that it was sunshine and butterflies, but the general consensus on a misunderstood people is wrong. Kjetil is stoic; he’s obviously been through a lifetime of events and memories that have no doubt shaped his “Che sera sera attitude,” but he’s, well, normal. He’s not a barbaric Nazi that most Americans (and Russians as I found out) assume, and he’s most certainly not a depressive, corpse paint guy who refuses to listen to anything outside extreme.

He enjoys Ghostemane, Roger Whitaker, Pulp, and a good glass of Lebanese wine (which was quite good, by the way.) He’s a family man and exuberance for his wife, Lena, is something that I found so comforting. She is soft-spoken, kind, and is very much enamored with Kjetil despite the polarity in lifestyles. Kjetil is a pioneer of black metal, but he doesn’t let music define who he is as a person, unlike many of the American counterparts who willingly choose it as an identity. In many ways I felt like his coaching and guidance during this week was some of the greatest advice I have ever received, and much of his tutelage was simplistic to the point of almost stupidity, in terms of me not realizing how simple things really can be if you let it.

I was around a good deal of black metal pioneers this week, and between Frost, Hoest, Tom G. Warrior, Infernus…and Kjetil…I did not in any instance feel a hint of extreme left or right, Nazism, hate, prejudice, or anything pertaining to the American logic we tend to have. As Westerners, we tend to have this fairy-tale point of view when it comes to what Vikernes did to Øystein Aarseth, but even I learned that it wasn’t at all; it was tragic beyond words, and in the words of Billy Messiah, “It wasn’t something to romanticize—he killed my friend.”

And ya know, guys, those words pierced me.

I think it’s easy to feel a certain way about black metal, but once you start to warm up by a fire, with a good beer, and K. Manheim as company—you realize just how ignorant the world can really be.

All shit aside, Kjetil saw something great in me that even I didn’t and still don’t see. He confessed that he had killed an entire bottle of red wine in order to muster up the courage to send me that email, and that’s almost silly considering I’m just Cory. No doubt, I’m walking away from Norway with a new found respect for these legends and all the shit they’ve been through. More than that—I’m grateful that one email became one of the best things to ever happen to Jim and I.

I miss this guy already.

♥️