The amps crackle and buzz, the crowd surges with nervous energy. Someone starts a guttural chant of an archaic acronym and the crowd joins in. A man buried in dreadlocks stalks onto the stage, leering at the crowd behind his hairgrown hedgerow. Gruesome tattoos snake up and down the parts of him not covered in black clothing, and his gauges look like they could be used in a Frisbee golf tournament. The lights remain low. An eerie voice plays over the speakers, intoning some vague malevolence; scratching violins and a Gregorian chant accompany him as the droning malaise heralds the band onto the stage.
Your adrenaline begins to spike. You look around, sizing up the crowd, identifying potential allies, potential threats. You shiver slightly and look back to the stage.
The drone rises sharply before cutting out instantly to the crisp tolling of a bell. This is it.
A tsunami of sound is unleashed from the pent-up cages of fury held within the instruments and throats of the band members. Beer is spilled on you at the first instant and the crowd devolves into mayhem, the likes of which wouldn’t seem out of place in a documentary on prison violence.
You take an elbow to the rib, a body is flung at you, and you look down to see a sweaty mass of beard and band shirt grinning up at you in pure bliss. “This is the life,” you think to yourself while bellowing incoherently into the face below, then grinning back, you fling your newfound friend back into the melee. This is the life.
…
“So, what kind of music do you like?”
While music is a huge part of our culture, the circles I hang out in are rarely defined by musical preferences. “Oh, I listen to pretty much everything.” Increasingly, that’s the case for me as well, but just like the Earth and Sun, deep down there remains a metallic core.
In the metal world, words like “brutal,” “sinister,” and “heavy” are all seen as accolades. This seemingly upside-down view of good and evil is perplexing; how can something that appears so dark be a worthy endeavor?
Truth be told, I don’t have a succinct explanation. Maybe it’s a controlled outlet through which I release the primal urge for violence. Maybe it’s an affinity for the pure sensory overload of it all. Maybe it’s something nobler: an appreciation for the emotion and technicality so prevalent among metal musicians. Probably some combination of all three.
One thing I will highlight, though, is that for all its apparent violence and aesthetic darkness, the social experience of the metal scene is actually quite cooperative and friendly. There’s not much quite like the rush of camaraderie when a group of strangers rushes to help you to your feet and protect you from a falling crowd surfer.
I am also reminded of the following quote from C.S. Lewis:
Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
Attending a concert for a band whose music has been with you through the highs and the lows of life is a wonderful experience. Doing so with a friend is precious. And meeting others who have had the same experience is a joy worth pursuing.
So what’s your musical bedrock? I’m always looking for recommendations and am open to anything that’s made your life better, whether something joyful, relaxing, mourning, energetic, or just a zany oddity you’d like to share.