On 8 April, 1991, Per Ohlin – the singer with Norwegian metal outfit Mayhem – killed himself in his band’s shared house in Kråkstad. His body was discovered by Øystein “Euronymous” Aarseth, Mayhem’s guitarist and leader, who responded by photographing the corpse on a disposable camera, before calling the police.
This was the first in a series of grisly acts by members of Norway’s black metal scene in the early 90s. The music, pioneered by Mayhem, initially drew attention for its fusion of metal brutality with ominous repeated riffs and echoing tremolo picking. It was a style engineered to be anti-mainstream; to test the boundaries of the extreme.
“To me, black metal is a feeling,” says Vegard “Ihsahn” Tveitan. The Telemark-born singer/guitarist has fronted beloved black metal band Emperor since 1991 and now pursues a prog-metal solo career, with a new EP out this month. “Death metal, for instance, is a very one-dimensional, aggressive expression. Black metal has the same potential for aggression, but it also lends itself to desperation and fragility. There’s more existential depth.”
Initially, the most notable aspect of Norwegian black metal was the music. Mayhem had created a pioneering soundscape, pushing metal into new, haunting territory. The formation of bands such as Emperor, Gorgoroth, Immortal and Enslaved in their wake only amplified this. However, a year after Ohlin’s gruesome suicide, members of the burgeoning scene began complementing aural extremity with physical violence. Churches were burned down (reflecting some musicians’ satanist beliefs) and there were murders – the first happening when then-Emperor drummer Bård “Faust” Eithun fatally stabbed a gay man in 1992.
“That came as a huge surprise,” remembers Ihsahn. “I don’t want to speculate why it happened, but it’s been so woven into the [black metal] story because of when it happened and who was involved. Was it part of the scene? Was it a hate crime? I’ve never had a proper explanation and never asked for one.
“I think the church burnings were an exaggerated expression of authenticity,” he continues. “No one took [us] seriously for dressing up like we did: teenagers in leather and spikes. But, suddenly, it was for real. We were deeply into all of it and, the worse, the better. It became this kind of cult thing; everything that opposes you just strengthens your position.”
The central hub of the Norwegian black metal scene was a record shop in Oslo called Helvete. Owned by Euronymous, it opened just a month after Ohlin’s death, a stone’s throw from the city’s central station. It was a regular hangout for the guitarist’s “inner circle” (including friends from nearby black metal bands such as Arcturus, Burzum and Darkthrone) and it stocked all manner of unsettling underground music.
“I was 15 when I first walked into Helvete,” remembers Kristoffer Rygg, lead singer of Oslo’s black-metal-turned-synthpop band Ulver, who have just released a new album, Flowers of Evil. “It was clear from the first moment that it was more of an occult lair. It was draped in black veils, painted black and very dim. It was only lit by candles. It took the satanic and evil aspects of the music quite literally. But Euronymous would take an interest and put you on to different things as well, like industrial music, or punk or synthesiser music.”
“Euronymous introduced us to Tangerine Dream and all the 70s synth bands,” says Enslaved’s Ivar Bjørnson. The guitarist was only 13 when he co-founded the band in 1991; they’ve since expanded to incorporate prog, folk and post-punk music into their take on black metal, with their 15th album Utgard out in October. “We’d ask if he had any new metal in and he’d go, ‘Fuck that, it’s boring! Check out this prog album.’”
Helvete lasted two years before closing in 1993. Later that year, on 10 August, Euronymous was stabbed to death in his apartment building by Mayhem bassist Kristian “Varg” Vikernes. Vikernes was imprisoned for the murder, and four counts of arson, the following year. Bård “Faust” Eithun was also jailed, as was Emperor guitarist Tomas “Samoth” Haugen, who received a sentence of 16 months for burning down Skjold church in 1992.
“Euronymous’s death was the beginning of the end for the scene,” recalls Bjørnson. “He was extremely community-oriented. He knew Mayhem were at the forefront and getting attention, so he used that to promote other bands. When he went away, that went away. It really opened up a lot of people saying, ‘We’re the only good black metal band now.’ That fractured the scene massively and it never came back from that.”
Twenty-seven years after Norwegian black metal lost its central figurehead, veterans of the movement are sprawling. Lacking Euronymous’s eclecticism, bands such as Immortal and Gorgoroth have remained true to the musical methodology that permeated Norway 30 years ago. In addition, similar groups emerged in the late 90s, such as Watain and 1349, keeping the original Norwegian sound preserved in a bubble. Even Mayhem (who re-formed without Euronymous and Vikernes in 1995) only briefly flirted with new genres, before retreating to safer ground in the mid-2000s.
Ihsahn, however, now blends black metal with jazz and progressive music. Ulver specialise in a depressive twist on 80s-style pop, and Enslaved’s eclectic approach is self-described as “all the favourites in your record collection in one cohesive mass”. The latter two regard their leftfield musical turns as extensions of the diverse darkness they first heard in Helvete.
Ulver’s Rygg says the shop “wasn’t strictly metal, more the aesthetics of it. Helvete was a starting point for many of these things, but that leaves you to explore the takeaways yourself.” He says that stagnating in one style “is very anti-black metal. Bands like Enslaved and Emperor expanded quite quickly, going quite a long way from those rough demo tapes.”
“Euronymous would have totally loved where we are now, combining all these elements,” Bjørnson adds. “If you compare us with the essence of black metal, its lawlessness and rejecting convention, then we’re more black metal than a lot of black metal. It angers me that black metal went on to be a pissing contest when it can be a much more exciting art form.”
Meanwhile, Ihsahn believes that nothing about his musical attitude has changed since his teenage years within the scene. His journey has always been a “self-centered and narcissistic” one, following experimental muse after experimental muse.
“When I do a leftfield project, or bring a saxophone into my music, people think, ‘He’s really trying to provoke his listeners,’ but that’s never my intention,” he explains. “I just love that sense of creation. That’s why I create new musical challenges for myself every time I approach a new album. I’m building on the foundations of what I know and also bringing in some thin ice to explore.
“I’m shocked there aren’t more people from the original black metal scene doing what we are,” he adds. “Most of us were teenagers and already pushing the envelope of what was possible with music, extremity-wise. At 16 or 17, we’d already made it to the outer borders. Isn’t it sad that that spirit of exploration and pushing boundaries stopped at 18?”
With the fires long since extinguished, the current contingent of progressive black metal artists show the music can still be rebellious, unpredictable and gloriously inaccessible. Three decades after Mayhem’s first game-changing riff, it continues to press forward – but thankfully without the morbid extracurricular activity.