Originally written by Jordan Campbell
Behemoth is making some serious waves in the run-up to the release of The Satanist, due February 4th via Metal Blade. The hype shouldn’t be surprising. Over the course of the last decade, Behemoth has become one of the biggest extreme metal bands on the planet, and this will be their first slab of new material since 2009’s Evangelion. Mainman Nergal is making a triumphant return after a valiant, ultimately victorious battle with leukemia, so people are stoked on two levels: A favorite band is returning, which is always cool, but there’s a serious feel-good element at play, one that makes even hardened skeptics like myself glow with anticipation.
Why the skepticism? Well, the all-men-play-on-ten ethos of Behemoth’s DM era has been a tad unbecoming; their blast-heavy, brickwalled-to-Fuckville style has not only hamstrung their own material, but cast a negative influence over the entire death metal scene. (More is more, etc.) But after a few spins, The Satanist has revealed itself to be a refreshing gearshift. It’s a nuanced record from an act that has largely concerned itself with full-on assault. The first single, “Blow Your Trumpets Gabriel”, opened the gates to Behemoth’s newly-expansive kingdom, and The Satanist’s second cut, “Ora Pro Nobis Lucifer”, satiates the assaultive needs of devotees while adding multiple layers of intrigue:
Unfortunately, Nergal himself leaves little to the imagination, belying the record’s depth and maturity. The nuances nestled within The Satanist are in danger of being overshadowed by the record’s peripheral artistic decisions. First, there’s the issue of theater: His appearance on the cover of Decibel in full provocatory regalia—complete with Richard Ramirez palmgear—is cringe-inducing, passé to the extreme. (Is THIS what you want representing your genre on Barnes and Noble racks nationwide, Heavy Metal?) While it’s important to note that Poland is a predominantly Catholic nation—and this OTT Satanism is a legitimate statement—there comes a point where one should contemplate a more complex narrative.
And then there’s the issue of the title: The Satanist? Simplicity is typically a virtue, but isn’t that a bit…trite? Yes, Satan…yeah yeah, individuality…sure, rebellion…we who are not as others, man. But: your choir is already listening. They’re wholly captivated. And for the old guard (and, having just turned 31, I think I can finally place myself in those ranks, you ageist pricks), the simplistic “Satanist” title is already owned:
Yep. Remember Crowned In Terror? With all this hubbub about At The Gates’ telegraphed return, you’d best remember that the one record that Tomas Lindberg did with The Crown was FUCKING AWESOME, and the best song with unimaginative title of “Satanist” was released twelve years ago. (“Ride the walrus!“) Even back then, it was a little tacky—though not as naïve and idealistic as “Under A Serpent Sun”—but you don’t listen to The Crown to reinforce a broader worldview. You listen to The Crown to RIFF LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. It’s heavy metal for the everyman.
And that’s why The Crown’s claim reigns supreme. Behemoth’s title cut from The Satanist is a mid-paced epic, draped in pretension and regalia; a grandiose landclaim from a returning monarch. The Crown were rabid, jacked-drunk madmen, BluBlocker-clad gutterfucks hurling cow pies from peasants’ row.
Real rebellion is waged at street level.
