The Devil's Music : The Sound & The Fury

And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

There is a point in everyone’s life (presumably in your thirties) where new music starts feeling less significant. It’s not that it becomes insignificant, but once your personality crystalizes and you’ve lived through moments that are going to be high points in your life (high school, college, first loves, etc.), the music you were listening to then is going to always feel more significant than anything else. That period involved two things for me: internet and freedom.

I had just moved to Montreal for college and for the first time, my life was completely devoid of social expectations. No one gave a shit who I was and what I did. I was free to paint the town red if I wanted, but what I wanted was to scour the internet for weird and extreme things. So that it exactly what I did. I remember one night where I was discussing black metal with a stranger online (this is a thing you did back then) and he sent me this:

“I believe black metal should always be like this. Mean and unforgiving,” he said.

That evening turned out to be an important moment in my life because it is when I understood something about myself and my relationship to music. It was the first time I heard a sound that constantly played inside my head. I could not discern any structure (at least right away) or make sense of the lyrics, but it felt right to listen to it. It felt like something I should do. I understood that my musical choices were a mean of self-expression. Or that it should be.

I don’t believe there is a profound meaning to Pandemonic Hyperblast. At least not in the lyrics, which are still subject to debate today. It’s one of the many songs British extreme metal geniuses Mick Kenney and Dave Hunt have written about the end of the world. Not the most eloquent one by any means. But the angriest and the most intense. By far. It’s catharsis in the purest sense of the world. The process of releasing strong, repressed emotions.

What makes that song so great and efficient at what it does is that it’s spontaneous. It doesn’t overthink what it is trying to say or how it should say it. It’s just a burst of anger in your fucking ears. It is my anger played back to me by someone who visibly understand how it feels to live inside of my head. Remember when I told you I was afraid of being that kid who was into Satanic music? Pandemonic Hyperblast is when the last barrier broke through.

I’ve became a fan of Anaal Nathrakh on that day and I still am. Every musical choice that lead up to Pandemonic Hyperblast became instantly more meaningful to me and every choice after it slightly less. Because it was the moment where I understood who I was as a person. It was also the moment where I understood no one would really get it if I explained. If you’re into Anaal Nathrakh, the band chose you more than you chose it and it’s fine. It was meant to be.

This is going to be the last entry in The Devil’s Music. I covered everything about my relationship to extreme metal that I wanted to cover. It’s a journey that I’ve been on for thirty years, but it took thirteen in order to understand why I was taking it: I don’t exactly listen to metal for technical prowess. I can admire it, but my interest in this music and its culture is more visceral than intellectual. It expresses something about who I am as a person.

I’ve stopped being afraid of that reflection. I’ve embraced it.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t get it. It might be all sound and fury for you. It’s not because your eardrums are too refined or your sensibilities are not aligned. It’s because you haven’t been chosen. If you don’t get it, fucking close the door and walk away. We’re breathing fire over here.