We are men of passions slow to ignite but all-consuming once underway; so we gravitate naturally to this music of sharply defined highs and lows. Unable to comprehend, much less partake of social machinations – or more accurately, only too comprehending and therefore unwilling to soil ourselves in the process – we are content to remain on the periphery as observers looking in and down on this ape world. Far removed and prone to bouts of quiescence though we may be, what we see transpiring in this space fuels how we think about metal. To us, above all else, this is an angry music that cannot be in an existential void. It feeds off the ape world; at the recklessness and logical inconsistency of thought, and the oily righteousness that accompanies it, at the grandstanding and the one-upsmanship it subsists on. The catharsis we find in this music’s wake is like the relief that the body experiences once it is rid of disease, but for the catharsis to occur, the body needs to be infected first. The infection has to be true and raging, and a result of a preceding disillusion with the ape world.
This is no ideal state of being but it is who we are, a change for the better necessarily predicating either the ape world changing its ways for good or us taking our place in the trees. The first is a leap of faith that our calcified cynicism will not let us take, the second a non-option and the same as self-immolation. Hence we drift between extremes of disposition; at times explosive in our feeling, at others indifferent to a fault, each quality, desirable or not, crucial to forming our picture of this music. Each acting as a palliative on the other, for to go too far in one direction would by default compromise everything else.
If there is one such as above, then we can hope for another, and if there are two, then there must be a multitude of us. Our weariness mandates regular retreats into anonymity when the stench of feces becomes overpowering but that does not mean that our clan is small or non-existent, only reclusive out of need. The ape world asserts itself on the back of this quietude, becoming judge, jury, and revisionist, all rolled in one, drowning out dissent in the guise of moral rectitude and right of majority. It then becomes our responsibility as a silent, underground collective to speak out against its sophistry as and when our sense of revulsion permits.