Decibel Books just announced their newest tome, ‘USBM: A Revolution of Identity in American Black Metal’, which will be released late November. For the first time, someone has interviewed innumerous bands to compile an all-encompassing reference of the American black metal scene. Because most black metal chroniclers focus on the Norwegian scene (for good reason), there has been a dearth of analysis on the vast US equivalent. Decibel Magazine writer Daniel Lake saw this vacancy and spent three years working on this 544-page book to grant the US scene its place in literary form.
The book can be preordered here
Below is an exclusive interview with Daniel Lake.
What initially got you into extreme metal? How has your view of metal and its subgenres evolved over time?
I always identified closely with pretty simple pop/rock music, but in 2000-2001 I dealt with a bit of emotional upheaval that made most of that music seem irritating and distasteful. I found bands like Mr. Bungle and Godspeed You Black Emperor that didn’t force specific emotions on me the way mainstream radio music does. That led me to John Zorn’s oddball jazz, and I leapt over heavy music and landed in straight-up noise (Merzbow) for a while. From there, I eased back toward Converge, Neurosis, Dillinger Escape Plan, and then I just tried to take in everything. I got way more interested in black metal in 2006 when I was introduced to Blut Aus Nord, Gorgoroth, Spektr, and some more progressive-leaning bands like Enslaved and Agalloch. I became obsessed with Leviathan and Xasthur soon after, and again, just tried to hear everything I could. I came to heavy music after its subgenres had become more porous, so while I understood the subgenre delineations, they always seemed fairly fluid to me.
‘USBM: A Revolution of Identity in American Black Metal’ is an exhaustive effort, being well over 500 pages. What sparked your interest in building a definitive reference for America’s black metal scene? Has the US been overlooked by other chroniclers?
The reason to write the book is simply because this book did not exist before. There are amazing books that touch on black metal but don’t focus on it; others hone in on black metal but only touch briefly on a few of the most obvious American bands. It’s not really due to neglect – nobody could possibly contain all of black metal into a single book project. There was a sensationalism to the coverage of the Scandinavian bands; then, inevitably, there were attempts to cover the same scene in a less scandalous way, to focus on the music and personalities rather than the crimes. The same ground gets covered multiple times as people try to get the truth and right the wrongs. While I love lots of French, Greek and Scandinavian bands, I think my tastes skew toward some of the sonic characteristics and songwriting espoused by some U.S. bands. Finding a way to honor that was exciting. Also because my editor, Albert Mudrian, told me to.
After three years of work on this project, has your perspective on black metal changed? What new aspects were unearthed in your research?
I actually think I like black metal more now. I’m a high school teacher, and sometimes a student will ask me to provide them with an example of black metal so they can understand what it sounds like. I have a kind of perfect encapsulation of that sound in my mind, but every time I tried to find a song that would do just that exact thing, I couldn’t. This is amazing. In trying to find some boilerplate, straightforward black metal, I always heard details that veered sideways and opened up new possibilities. (Not that the students would have noticed, of course.) My ear was becoming attuned to the personal touches that artists were weaving into their songs, and that fact captivates me. I don’t mean to sound wide-eyed and agog about it all. I just feel like I can hear interesting bits in what other metal aficionados would think is shitty, no-name black metal, and that’s exciting to me. It makes me want to listen more.
American black metal seems to have an identity crisis. It is comprised of different styles from many sources, and diverse viewpoints are vast. In some ways it is amorphous, without a distinct form, not unlike Nietzsche’s abyss being a groundless chaos beneath all grounds. Is the US scene too balkanized to ever have its own identity?
Yes, thankfully. I’m a music journalist who hates genre classifications. (I kind of hope all music journalists do.) We name things to create a shortcut to meaning, and we use these names to classify something as amorphous and personal as music because it is valuable to use these shortcuts to communicate. But the beauty of music, like poetry and other forms of art, is that, if it is made well, it betrays the unique individuality of the person creating it. Adhering to an identity requires some semblance of conforming to a norm, and art (more generally) and black metal (more specifically) are non-conformist by nature. I’ve said to people that I listen to musicians more than I listen to music. Rather than hear one style of music that I’ve decided I really like, I’d prefer to hear the various directions that an artist’s whole personality is willing to take me. If USBM fractures and splinters forever into a dizzying array of hard-to-classify sounds, we’ll all be much richer for it. (I also might be full of shit.)
Which bands would you prescribe to be the forerunners of USBM? Can you elaborate on what makes them different from European black metal bands?
Paul Ledney of Profanatica would tell you that U.S. black metal derives from U.S. death metal, many of those early ‘90s bands prove him right. There’s an anti-melodic workmanlike aggression to that music that can’t quite be said about much European black metal. The European form was more often informed by sorrow, occasionally more melody, and a willingness to jettison the low end of the tonal range, which most USBM bands refused to cut loose but just retained from death metal. Again, at the risk of overgeneralizing, a lot of the American bands bore down on a raw savagery while Europeans often gave that up after a record or two.
Of course, none of that is completely right. Some U.S. bands did derive the lion’s share of their inspiration from the European scene, and at first just tried to put their own spin on the formula. Just as many bands developed out of American punk scenes, seeing black metal as a more creatively vibrant way to hammer out their grievances against society. I think that, just as the act of listening to black metal is usually an intensely personal experience, the inspiration to work with music this dense and often ugly comes out of hyper-personal drives that might not slot easily into “this band led to that band led to these others.”
With years of experience being a writer for Decibel Magazine and other music publications, were you well-prepared to tackle the enormous scope of this project or were there new hurdles to overcome?
The book exists. So, was I prepared? There’s a several-pound argument that I was. But I can tell you that I did not feel at all equal to the task. My approach was to dive into interviews immediately and just get as many of those done as possible. That’s how I work on articles for the magazine: the interviews will determine the shape of the piece, so I figured I would start to see the book’s structure as more interviews were completed. I did not. Twenty interviews in, I felt lost. Forty interviews in, I felt more lost. At least three times during the process, I started preparing the words I would use to tell Albert to hand the project off to someone else. One of those times, Albert waved me off before I could get to my speech; the other two times, Decibel writer Nick Green talked me down off the ledge. It came down to finding the small bit that I felt I could get done and handling it, and just repeating that process. Which seems obvious, but it can be hard to see when you’re in it. And still, the book is pretty fragmented into individual stories rather than weaving one cohesive narrative, but I think that’s due to the fact that USBM itself is not monolithic, and even bands that rose from the same geographic location at the same time would generally not say that they were part of a scene in any material way.
But all those feelings of inadequacy have a purpose. While working on the book, I somewhat illogically took on the job of assistant drama director at the high school where I teach, and I learned something from listening to actors: If what you’re striving toward doesn’t fill you with fear, then it might not be worthwhile. I’d rather do something I’ve never done before imperfectly than go through the motions of recreating old achievements dispassionately. (Keep in mind, I also might be full of shit.)
If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only have five USBM albums to listen to for the rest of your life, which albums would those be? Why?
So, I’m going to play this one straight, meaning that I’m going to err on the side of material that most people would agree belongs firmly in the black metal camp. A lot of what I like – and a good bit of the final third of the book – muddles black metal with broader stylistic approaches. For the purposes of this question, I won’t include those, though they’re definitely go-to records for me. Also, I should mention that this list would probably change if you asked me on a different day. As I look over all the bands in this category, I really wouldn’t want to live without recordings by pretty much any of them. Just to be clear: this really isn’t a list of favorites. But you asked for five.
Leviathan’s Tenth Sublevel of Suicide: It’s insane how good this record is, musically, while sounding so grimy. For me, it’s the vocals that put this one over the top.
Cobalt’s Gin: It’s kind of a perfect record. It’s like black metal written by some remarkable early 20th century version of Neurosis. The range of pace, mood and dynamic shifts on this record turn the whole thing into a winding story that demands your attention.
Panopticon’s On the Subject of Mortality: I’ve always loved Panopticon’s material interchangeably, because his songwriting and attention to his craft is impeccable. Now, though, I’ve actually spoken to the man, and I can’t separate the records from their inspirations. Mortality is special. Austin’s experiences are not mine, and I don’t pretend to be able to feel what the music means to him. But just knowing that it means so much, knowing how it was inspired and how he so meticulously processed his emotional state through such a specific artistic lens… It’s awe-inspiring.
Xasthur’s Subliminal Genocide: I’m pretty sure this was my first Xasthur record, because I was paying a lot of attention to Hydra Head Records at the same time I was diving deeper into black metal’s freakier sounds. This record just has all the corroded melody, utter despondency, and terrifying desperation that I want from Xasthur.
Negative Plane’s Stained Glass Revelations: This is one of the first records I ever wrote about, and it gave me one hell of a hard time. It’s black metal, but bent all out of shape, draped in liturgical pretension, and played in deep caverns lit only by flowing magma. Or something. I can’t explain it, but I will keep going back to it.
American black metal bands proliferate like bunnies, with new bands popping up each week, it seems. Did the abundance of bands and musicians make research hard for your book?
Yes, but I used a few centers of mass to keep me grounded. First, I got in touch with Neill Jameson of Krieg early. He’s been around forever as a fan, a musician, a collaborator and a label head. He knows his shit, deeply and completely. He tossed out a list of bands I should be sure to pay some attention. As I went about interviewing bands, I also paid attention to the bands they mentioned so I could follow those paths, too. And I used my own knowledge and tastes to guide the process. Of course, I wanted to approach the history with as little personal bias as I could, but sometimes it’s useful to lean into the music that excites me the most. It probably leads to better writing, frankly, and I firmly believe that discussing music is inherently subjective, so there’s just no sense in trying to sever my tastes from the conversation completely. That said, some bands I really wanted to include just couldn’t make the cut, given the cover-to-cover constraints of a physical book. The editors and I did the best we could to represent the various corners of the scene as thoroughly as possible without trying to include every band that any individual listener might consider personally precious.
What do you think the future holds for American black metal? Is it up in the air for what’s next?
If we’re lucky, we will continue to experience the tug of war between necrotic traditionalists and restless innovators. That tension yields extraordinary music, not just near the middle of the two but also when musicians choose to occupy one of the poles. If we’re unlucky, artists will lose interest in black metal’s constituent parts and the music will stagnate and be ignored. If we’re very unlucky, America itself will shudder apart in the coming years and “USBM” will become a quaint historical reference.
