ARTSETC.
Christe’s Headbanging History
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Also by Christopher J Ewing:
- A ride with Death Cab for Cutie (November 20, 2003)
Related Stories:
- Sevendust's new album promising amongst slew of mediocre nu-Metal (December 5, 2001)
- Motorhead to bring metal to Royal Opera House (February 17, 2004)
- Skindred's unique metal mix (September 14, 2004)
- Disturbed's new cd more of same (October 4, 2005)
- Guilty Pleasures (May 1, 2003)
by Christopher J Ewing
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Covering 33 years of any musical genre in a single volume is a difficult feat, especially a genre so completely impregnated with subgenres and mini-movements as heavy metal. Ian Christe’s history on the black art of metal provides a perfect starting point for anyone not already deeply imbedded within the rich culture of the “black T-shirt” crowd (an image Christe is prone to return to repeatedly throughout “Sound of the Beast”).
Where Christe is most successful is in his pure scope. He covers a lot of ground in less than 400 pages and very effectively utilizes genre boxes to showcase a variety of metal subgenres and movements (from Grindcore and Funk Metal to Scandinavian Black Metal and German Speed Metal). He also fills the book with timelines and important dates, most of which help make sense of the enduring musical tradition. His humor selectively shines through when listing trivia like the best “blipcore” song ever (Wehrmacht’s “Micro-E!” which clocks in at 0.1 seconds long) and the weirdest metal stage tricks (like Ozzy Osbourne and M-80 bassist Don Costa scraping his bloodied knuckles against a cheese grater attached to his guitar). With Christe’s endless categorizations and listings, any serious music-lover will find plenty of new names to search out (or download) within these pages.
The book is a quick skim across the metal pond, and serious depth is granted only to the looming gods of the domain, which for the most part are the bands whose histories are most readily available in other places, namely Black Sabbath and Metallica.
The book begins with a band of hippy guitar noodlers called Earth recording its first great track, “Black Sabbath.” The band quickly changes its name and the world is never the same.
Guitar god Tony Iommi basically began the signature metal sound as a result of his low tuning, which made it easier for him to bend his strings (because he had lost a couple fingertips in a metal shop accident). Black Sabbath is given the credit they are due, but are hailed almost single-handedly as metal’s birth parents, neglecting a few key influences (from some of the ’60s hard rock acts and the Beatles’ “Helter Skelter” to the MC5, Stooges and the throngs of garage rock outfits of the late ’50s and early ’60s).
The New Wave of British Heavy Metal (or NWOBHM) quickly follows Sabbath, inspired by the punk implosion of the mid-’70s. Christe writes, “Black Sabbath had introduced heavy metal, Judas Priest gave it flash, and Motorhead fortified it with true wit.” While Christe acknowledges punk’s influence on heavy metal (and later the bonding and crossbreeding that would occur between hardcore punk and metal in the early 1980s with groups like D.R.I, Bad Brains, S.O.D. and Corrosion of Conformity), he falls into the common metalhead trap of neglecting the two scenes’ inherent rivalries (mainly, who can play faster and who can be more disruptive and socially unacceptable) and the constant inter-inspiration that continues to this day. As Christe reaches the ’90s, he writes off Nirvana, relying upon album sales a bit too much to elevate his obvious heroes, Metallica.
In fact, “Sound of the Beast’s” most apparent flaw is its over-obsession with Metallica (which basically plagues the book after page 59 or so), oftentimes barely glancing at much more interesting and less-studied scenes and subgenres. But apart from some hero worship, Christe keeps his fairly unbiased view of metal groups from sinking to the level of groupie stories and backstage antics, although his defense of some of metal’s more flamboyant theatrics comes across as a little too generous at times.
All the institutions are here, from Metal Blade’s “Metal Massacre” comps to MTV, and death metal and black metal get thorough coverage. Christe avoids analyzing the actual music (except for a few cases, especially chapters discussing censorship and the PMRC wig out in 1985) and chooses instead to open the gateway for readers to discover new music. “Sound of the Beast” is more history book than a critical examination of the musical genre, which is most evident when Christe addresses issues like the early ’90s black metal terrorists, including guys like Euronymous, Mortiis and a Swedish vocalist named Dead (who commits suicide rather quickly). Christe’s reverence for these goofy idols (photographs depict the band in full makeup and leather-and-studs gear, grimacing and brandishing very funny little axes) lacks the humor (albeit dark, especially when Euronymous boasts that upon finding Dead’s dead body and waiting for the paramedics, he plucked pieces of his friend’s skull from the ground to make jewelry) that their severely cartoonish existences afforded the metal community.
The new afterword dives into the global community of metal after war in Iraq, and Christe drops some enlightening comments regarding the U.S. military’s use of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” for torturing prisoners.
“Sound of the Beast” will not serve up little-known secrets about the heavy metal realm, so diehards will probably be familiar with Christe’s all-inclusive timeline, but for anyone looking to expand his or her ideas of this long-living tradition past the local hard rock radio’s Clear Channel visions, this is the place to start.
