Why British Black Metal Absolutely Rules Right Now ??

Indulge me being an old man for a moment, and I’ll go back to a time about 10 years ago. At Germany’s Wacken festival in 2004, I was having a beer with a German stranger (I forget his name, it was probably Fritz), and he laughingly asked me why England had no metal bands. I quickly pointed to a festival poster that had Saxon at the top of the bill. He saluted the Barnsley metal squadron and munched on his bratwurst, but his point wasn’t quashed: next to Germany, Sweden, Norway, Finland etc, our metal underground was a welterweight in a world of Mike Tysons.

There was Cradle Of Filth, obviously, but nobody who considered themselves underground counted that. Be-suited gentlemen Akercocke were doing a very good job of Blasting For Satan, even getting to do it at Download, while a few scratches of the crust of the underground revealed killer bands like depressive black metallers Lyrinx, the fiercely independent Thus Defiled, Farnborough ‘Humanracists’ Reign Of Erebus, and dirty London thrash bastards (Fist Metal, as their guitarist Chris Nunravager called them, in honour of their violent sound and outlook) Adorior. But – Akercocke aside – gigs and releases weren’t all that regular, and a feeling of genuine uprising was all but missing. As though for the most part we were quite happy getting stuff on import from the rest of the world.

We didn’t have the notoriety of the Norwegian scene (murder, arson, suicide), nor the exotic allure of South America, or the sheer force of Finland. The closest we had to outrage was Cradle’s Of Filth’s immortal ‘Jesus Is A C**t’ shirts, and the legend of Sussex band Necropolis, whose mainman Paul ‘Sheene’ Timms had been arrested for grave desecration in the mid-‘90s. Thing is, Necropolis were seemingly just a name, and no music was ever recorded (or, by all accounts, written). Bad news, although Timms did supposedly go on hunger strike in the nick, and when the fuzz asked him what he wanted to eat, he apparently replied, “a Bible!”. Funny, but not much to be proud of.



A few weeks ago, I went to a black metal gig in London. And not for the first time recently, I was struck by the turnout, the dedication, the feeling that the underground was more fecund and energised than it was a few years ago. This being a gig in London, it wasn’t surprising that it was a) busy and b) full of people from all over the UK. But it didn’t feel disjointed or separate. I saw friends from Newcastle, from Birmingham, Bristol, Leamington Spa, Glasgow, Exeter. And most of these people are in bands. Good ones at that.

But what struck me hardest was that, on a bill with three-quarters foreign bands, (Mgla from Poland, Svartidauði from Iceland, and One Tail One Head from Norway), it was Grave Miasma, from our very own London, that truly set the gig on fire. Which shouldn’t be that surprising to anyone with an ear cocked towards the underground. Ever since the early days when they were known by the far sillier Goat Molestor moniker, they’ve offered something unique, special; a death-fixated unholy bonfire of death metal aggression, blackened atmosphere and something genuinely mystical and magical. Over the years, I’ve seen them many times, and every time – smeared in blood, choking on the pea-soup of incense burning onstage, lit by candles and sounding like a thousand souls rising up and screaming straight into the face of God – they’ve been incredible. Last year’s KKKKK-rated Odori Sepulcrorum was a masterwork. And as they ripped through their set that night – powerful, otherworldly, but with the right hook of a very young Slayer – the punch in the face came as much from them as it did the realisation that our underground is so bloody strong.



So what’s changed? It’s not just that there’s more killer bands than there used to be. There’s a passion here, an enthusiasm, a feeling that this stuff’s being taken seriously. These bands all have serious fire in their bellies, a strong belief that what they’re doing is something more than simply playing a few metal songs. Post-Watain, who made their name through dedication and touring their arses off, it feels like extreme metal bands aren’t afraid of ambition and getting in peoples’ faces live. In July, South American maniacs Mystifier are playing their first ever UK gig. It says something that – with the exception of the awesome two-man Swiss wrecking machine Bölzer – all the supports are British or Irish: Cruciamentum, Spearhead, Malthusian and Zom. What’s more, everyone is just as braced for this lot as they are for the headliners.



And deservedly so, because the British metal underground is currently awash with killer bands that should be the envy of our foreign comrades. There’s creativity everywhere, all forging something of their own. We have the North’s Winterfylleth playing their windswept, heritage obsessed black metal to huge festivals in Europe and generally being incredible. Screaming up behind them are Sunderland’s Wodensthrone, while on a more mystical front, there’s the occult-obsessed Funeral Throne from the Midlands and the mysterious Sheol (or שְׁאוֹל, if we’re being pedantic). And in London, you’ve got Grave Miasma, Craven Idol, Sepuku and tonnes more, while out West there’s the Motörhead/Celtic Frost worshipping racket of Salute and Abyssal’s bizarre, murky obscurity. In the east, there’s the expansive, Pink Floyd-y Fen, while the south has corpse-painted maniacs Verdelet and Necro Ritual.



Some might say there’s just more people involved and it’s becoming more cool. But from what I’ve seen first-hand at gigs and through contact with metal maniacs across the UK and Europe, the truth is that there’s simply a massive load of talent, dedication, vision and get up and go in the underground right now. And long may it continue. Ave Sathanas.