Welcome aboard, welcome to the realm of violent Metal, where guitars shred, drums pound, and lyrics plunge into the abyss of aggression. There is everything, rotting saviors to suicidal viruses to Deathcore guys trying to screw over undera…oh sorry that’s not Metal, that’s a crime. In this sonic tapestry, Metalheads find themselves entangled in a web of contradictions, veering between the brutality of the music and an elusive vision of peace. Let’s embark on this journey, to understand a subset of people trying to sever their heads and crash into each other in concert whilst listening to incoherent beasts screaming over strings squealing and drums pounding. Or online where, well, they just need to state their opinions.
In this cacophony of distorted guitars and growling vocals, the violence inherent in metal is not a subtle undertone; it is the main act. Song titles like “Chopped in Half” or “From Skin to Liquid” make it clear – this isn’t background music for your mother’s curious yoga class.
Yet, within the brutal exterior lies the first contradiction, as Metal, despite its overt aggression, is an art form. It is a canvas where emotions are painted in bold strokes, a playground where artists unleash their inner turmoil in a symphony of chaos. It is aggression with a purpose – an artistic expression that transcends all convention.
Metalheads are a peculiar breed of contradictions to even exist, they revel in the clash between principles. On one hand, they champion the underground, lauding the raw authenticity of garage bands struggling for recognition. On the other hand, they scoff at bands that breach the mainstream, accusing them of selling out faster than Clown firing the next Slipknot member.
This paradox is not a mere quirk; it is a fundamental part of the Metalheads internal construct. The rejection of the mainstream clashes with a desire for acknowledgment. Schrödinger’s cat wasn’t all that whacky as these people are. Beyond the maelstrom of distortion, there exists a fleeting sense of peace within the metalhead community. Concerts, though pulsating with energy, become a shared experience, a temporary escape from the mundane. Mosh pits transform into chaotic displays of unity, where strangers find a bizarre connection during the sweat that permeates all civil discourse.
Yet, this peace is like a carnival ride – exhilarating but transient. It is a respite between songs, a momentary pause before diving back into the relentless onslaught of sonic aggression. It is a peace that exists in the interludes, not in the main verses of the Metalhead’s life. Also, none of these people can get along online. Anyone who likes Sleeptoken is not a true Metalhead, anyone that still likes Thrash is a poser and anyone that disagrees with you may very well be from a different political party.
But also, in the heart of the distortion, a peculiar harmony is woven. The very music that outsiders deem as dissonant and aggressive becomes a strange therapeutic device. It’s not a conventional sense of peace; it is a bizarre comfort found in the chaos, a dark humor in the dissonance. And that somehow brings these cavemen charging at each other together. This twisted harmony is not an orchestrated masterpiece; it is a spontaneous rhetorical blasphemy where the instruments of chaos create a peculiar symphony. This unpredictable cadence of the sonic storm somehow yields isolation. Somehow.
Deciphering the intentions behind the violence requires embracing the shades of gray. It is not a black-and-white narrative of rebellion or self-discovery; it is a spectrum of motivations that range from the rebellious rejection of norms to an honest pursuit of artistic expression.
The intentions are not veiled in complexity; they are painted with broad strokes on a canvas of defiance. It is not merely about rejecting conformity; it is about celebrating the discord, finding beauty in the chaos, and relishing the freedom to be disruptive.
And racist if you write NSBM. Or about another weird BDSM fantasy. Freedom of Speech guys! Brought to you by Dee Snider!
It is apparent that the art of violence and the vision of peace within the subculture form an eternal dance of weird tempos and changing time signatures. The contradictions are not liabilities; they’re fellow headbangers, banging with us in a rhythm that is both chaotic and strangely coordinated. The reality remains nuanced – violent Metal, with all its contradictions, is not a vessel for transformation or a conduit for traditional peace. It is a rebellious shout against the mundane, a chaotic outcry that revels in its own contradictions. The intention is not to find tranquility within the storm but to perpetuate the tempest, leaving the world of Metalheads suspended in the enigmatic dance of dissonance, with a wry grin and a love for the absurd. To annoy the neighbors. And to send a message. Need to add the fun stuff.
We don’t care. But we also do. And if you can’t understand it, your loss simpleton.
Until next time,
Keep rocking!
Written by Josh Mastiff