The first thing I did on my first full day in Norway was to go to Neseblod Records in Oslo. This is not just any record shop, but this is one of the most important locations in metal history. Neseblod Records is housed in what was previously known as Helvete. For those not in the know, Helvete was owned and operated by Euronymous of Mayhem. It is also where he operated Deathlike Silence Productions. Various luminaries of the Norwegian black metal scene lived, worked, and hung out at Helvete, including Blackthorn (Thorns), Samoth (Emperor), Faust (Emperor), Hellhammer (Mayhem), and Necrobutcher (Mayhem) among many others.

The upstairs of the store as it is now is cluttered with shelves and stacks of metal records, CDs, and cassettes to the point where it can be difficult to maneuver around, especially if others are present. The basement has racks full of metal band t-shirts, long sleeves, and hoodies – some of which are used and quite old (and presumably quite valuable!). Elsewhere in the basement is the infamous room with the words “BLACK METAL” scrawled across the wall – the meeting place of the burgeoning Norwegian black metal scene in the early 90s. But the real magic of Neseblod Records is the various metal artifacts hung on the walls throughout its upstairs. Some personal highlights for me were a box containing a digital or cassette recorder labeled as “Darkthrone’s unused riffs” and a KISS record that was owned by Euronymous – the cover of which apparently contains drops of his own blood. Other artifacts included letters between different people in the domestic and international metal scenes. There was a rehearsal tape of Mayhem from ’86. There was an Evil Dead 2 shirt that was signed by the members of Slayer in ’87. It really was something of a metal museum. While being there was certainly a treat that fulfilled a teenage fantasy, it was the first in a series of demystifications I had concerning Norwegian black metal and the musicians involved in it.

There was something about Scandinavian metal, speaking broadly, that was altogether “Other” for me when I was a teenager. I think part of it had to do with how serious I perceived them to be about their art. After learning about Dead’s suicide, Euronymous’s murder, Faust’s murder conviction, and the countless church burnings across the country that were mostly attributed to members or admirers of the country’s black metal scene, a teenager can’t help but think that these musicians are actually evil to a certain extent. In terms of how perceivably “evil” the scene was, there was just no comparison with any other scene at that time or since.

Another reason I think I felt this “Othering” of Scandinavian metal bands was because they had a tendency to obscure their identities, whether through the use of pseudonyms, the use of corpse paint, or by simply avoiding photographs and interviews. Many North American bands I listened to at the time simply did not cultivate the air of mystery which let the music speak for itself that Scandinavian bands did. North American bands were happy to share photographs of themselves, participate in interviews, and generally cultivate a public image by actively trying to do so. On the other hand, Scandinavia had bands like Opeth who, for a long time, never put band photos in their album sleeves nor seemed particularly motivated to provide publications with band photos. Instead, they let the music speak for itself. And when you add the darkly Romantic, otherworldly, or grim atmospheres of albums like Morningrise, Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk, or Transylvanian Hunger, respectively, in addition to the lack of public identity, it makes the music seem not entirely human – or, at least, simply not of the mundane. Of course, not every Scandinavian band shrouded themselves in mystery while also tending to produce some kind of unearthly atmosphere in their music, but it definitely seemed more common among them than the North American bands I listened to.

Lastly, I think the simplest explanation for my thoughts about Scandinavian metal bands was that they were from a “far off” land. But not just any “far off” land. They were from a mystical land of mountains, fjords, and forests formerly populated by Vikings, serpentine monsters, frost giants, and Norse gods. With North American bands, I was more or less familiar with the topographical and cultural landscapes where they formed, having had first-hand experience of growing up here.

The reason why I am addressing this is that, although Beyond the Gates was great, it really removed the last remnants of reverence I had for many of these Scandinavian musicians as somehow unknowable evil entities from a “far off” land. One of the main reasons for this was how the differences between musician and fan really dissipated with all of the “experiences” that the Beyond the Gates organizers provided for the attendees. It was also the willingness with which some of the musicians interacted with fans, cementing them as “just normal people” rather than the serious demigods my teenage self had imagined them to be.

Among the experiences were the following:

• Erik Danielsson (Watain) did a DJ set of mostly classic metal for the beer tent
• A.A. of Primordial held a metal trivia pub quiz in the same beer tent
• Both Ivar Bjørnson (Enslaved) and Nergal (Behemoth, Me And That Man) were the subjects of mostly lighthearted live interviews that were full of their particular brands of humor
• Gaahl (Gorgoroth, Gaahl’s Wyrd) judged a tattoo contest and hung out at his art gallery for an exhibition opening
• Archaon and Seidemann (1349) introduced the newest iteration of the 1349 Pale Ale at Apollon Records
• Grutle Kjellson (Enslaved) could be seen in the crowd drinking while Emperor performed as well as at a local bar/record shop prior to the last night of the festival
• Atilla and Teloch (Mayhem) walking around the foyer of Grieghallen and the beer tent outside talking with fans and fellow musicians alike

All of this demonstrates the obvious: these are normal-ass dudes enjoying the festival and the interactions with fans. Time and time again, the veil has been lifted and I’ve learned that metal musicians, from Mikael Akerfeldt to Jon Chang, are just dorks like the rest of us.

Besides the entertaining but disillusioning experiences above, Beyond the Gates offered perhaps the highest concentration of high-quality bands of any festival I attended over the summer. While looking at the schedule, I was under the impression that the second night was going to be the weakest night of the festival. That night featured Year of the Goat, Satan, Lucifer, Solstafir, and Opeth. I’m not a big fan of proto-metal throwbacks or the Sigur Rós-cum-post-metal of Solstafir. But when the night actually came, I was pleasantly surprised by most of the aforementioned bands. I probably would not normally listen to Year of the Goat or Lucifer on my own, but they both put on captivating performances. And despite the fact that they played almost entirely material from the 2010s (with crucial selections from Blackwater Park, Ghost Reveries, and Deliverance), it felt great seeing Opeth again twenty years after seeing them for the first and only other time I have seen them, which was at The Bottleneck sometime in the early 2000s during their Damnation/Deliverance tour, if memory serves me correctly.

The most special night of the festival was easily the penultimate night in which Emperor, Enslaved, and Mayhem performed at Bergen’s Grieghallen. Grieghallen is not only a metal, concrete, and glass building with sharp edges – looking appropriately imposing as the concert hall for the last two nights of a metal festival – but it’s also the location where famed underground producer Pytten recorded some of black metal’s most legendary albums by bands like Mayhem, Emperor, Enslaved, Gorgoroth, and Immortal. The first of those three bands were, for the first time, performing albums (or at least tracks from albums), that they had recorded almost 30 years ago in that very location. One thing that was slightly perplexing was this night was intended to commemorate the influential year of 1994 in Norwegian black metal, and, more broadly, in the history of metal. My question was, “Why not just wait for the 30th anniversary in 2024?” Of course, I’m extremely pleased that this happened the year I went in 2022, but I just didn’t understand why they didn’t wait.

In any case, Enslaved contributed to the celebration by playing 1994’s Vikingligr veldi all the way through. For some reason, I wasn’t aware that this would be what they would be doing until a day or two beforehand. Being more of a fan of Enslaved’s mid-period run: Below the Lights, ISA, and Ruun (which, by the way, were all produced by Pytten except Ruun) than their earlier or later material, I was originally hoping that they would at least play a selection of tracks from across their catalog. But their performance of Vikingligr veldi really captured the mystical atmosphere of that album, which, I think is also an exemplar of atmosphere in black (ok, VIKING) metal in general from that period. The subtle green lighting barely illuminating the musicians was the only light aside from the more prominent light outlining three giant Norse runes on stage.

Emperor has been one of my favorite metal bands for over twenty years now, and the fact that I could see them for the first time in the very place where they recorded classics such as In the Nightside Eclipse and Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk was an extra treat. Being that Anthems is one of my favorite metal albums of all time, I was delighted that most of their set included tracks from those two albums along with a few from Wrath of the Tyrant with Faust on drums and Mortiis on bass. The Anthems tracks especially resonated with me because of the emotional connection I have to that album, and I’m not afraid to admit that I came very close to crying toward the end of “Acclamation of Bonds”. They also played one track each from IX Equilibrium (“Curse You All Men!”) and Prometheus: The Discipline of Fire and Demise (“The Wordless Chamber!”). Unlike many live videos I have seen of Emperor playing the festival circuit in the last few years or so, Ihsahn’s vocals were on point for most of their performance at Grieghallen but started to weaken a little bit toward the end. Besides that, the band was tight throughout the entire performance.

To be completely honest, Mayhem was the band that I was least interested in seeing perform on that night. Not only had I seen them play before, but I had seen them perform De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas all the way through. A week or so later, they performed the same set when I was attending Brutal Assault. As much as I respect Mayhem, it does seem like they are starting to become a one-trick pony with all of their performances based around De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas, but perhaps I have that opinion because I’ve just always happened to see them when they are playing that album. Nonetheless, I would have loved to have heard them perform songs off of Grand Declaration of War or Ordo ad Chao, my two favorite releases from the band. I will say that Mayhem, of any band at Beyond the Gates, arguably did the best at capturing the ritualistic aspect of black metal with a number of candles lit on stage as well as most of the band wearing full-body cloaks Their performance also cemented Atilla as one of the most captivating frontmen in metal today. From his costume changes to his dramatic mannerisms (to say nothing of his vocal talents), he encapsulates the ideal black metal vocalist. And after seeing Mercyful Fate on the final night of the festival, it seems obvious where he got a lot of his influence for his stage persona.

Mercyful Fate was the highlight for me on the final night of the festival. I’m not too into Unto Others, I have seen Tribulation once or twice before, and I’ve never really listened to Candlemass before, although it was great to see them perform the classic Nightfall from start to finish. While King Diamond’s vocals seemed a little off from time to time, it was still a pleasure to finally see a band as important to the history of metal as Mercyful Fate. The band mostly culled tracks from their landmark first two albums, Melissa and Don’t Break The Oath, but they also performed a few post-80s tracks. A perplexing highlight for me was hearing King Diamond introduce a song as a work in progress. He told the crowd in his metal voice, “The lyrics are not finished…so in one part I just sorta make it up.” If you’re one of the most popular, most influential metal bands of all time playing to thousands of fans every night, why would you decide to 1. perform a song that is incomplete and 2. tell your audience that you’re essentially just winging parts of the aforementioned song? When I saw them perform a week later at Brutal Assault, it was the same story! He said the exact same thing to the crowd when introducing the song. I mean, I’m sure they are busy with press and things of that nature, but King Diamond couldn’t find the time to finish writing lyrics to the song within a week? Perhaps not! I just thought it was a strange flex.

Besides the penultimate night, my favorite night was the third night, which featured the bands Whoredom Rife, Misþyrming, Archgoat, Mgła, and Sodom. Whoredom Rife, whose live lineup shares members with Vemod who played on the first night, was the surprise standout performance of the night. There is nothing particularly innovative about Whoredom Rife‘s brand of black metal – it adheres very closely to second-wave black metal musical tropes – but it was one of the most intense and ritualistic performances of the festival. Not being a fan of Archgoat‘s recorded material, I didn’t have high expectations for them, but the added punch of their low end made their overall live sound feel like a caveman driving a bulldozer into a crowd: completely ignorant brutality. The visual highlight of their performance was when Lord Angelslayer smoked a cigarette while doing vocals. Now that’s talent.

Having been a fan of Mgła for around a decade after first hearing With Hearts Toward None, I was most excited to see the Polish black metal masters more than any other band that night. While most bands had stage entrance music coupled with a fog machine in order to build up foreboding anticipation for their performances, Mgła simply had the faint sound of feedback from their amps. At first, the crowd was patiently waiting for the stage entrance music to start. For all the crowd knew, it could have been an error on the part of the sound guy. Once that didn’t seem to be the case, the crowd started chanting “Mg-ła! Mg-ła! Mg-ła!” Once the chanting had gone on for 20 or 30 seconds, the band finally took the stage in their hallmark black hoods and leather jackets. Mgła played songs mostly from 2019’s Age of Excuse and 2015’s Exercises in Futility, but one or two tracks from With Hearts Toward None and I think even one from the Mdłości EP.

Aside from the festival itself, part of the fun of being in Norway was visiting all of the black metal landmarks in Bergen and Oslo. Besides Neseblod Records mentioned above, the landmarks I visited included Fantoft Stave Church, Holmenkollen Chapel, and Gaahl’s art gallery (Galleri Fjalar). Varg Vikernes, although his guilt was never proven in court, has generally been thought of as the arsonist behind Fantoft Stave Church burning in June 1992, which was the first in a series of church burnings across Norway mostly tied to the black metal scene. Holmenkollen Chapel, located on the outskirts of Oslo, was burned down by Varg, Faust, and Euronymous in August 1992. Galleri Fjalar was one of the first places I visited in rainy Bergen, and it was the opening exhibition of the artist Kim Diaz Holm, who has done work for metal bands before. Some of the work in his exhibition had not been publicly shown before, including some depictions of the members of 1349. Gaahl was actually there when I visited with him, but I was far too intimidated to speak to him. Plus, he was talking with the artist for most of the time I was there.

In addition to Galleri Fjalar’s Kim Diaz Holm exhibition in Bergen, there was a black metal-related Edvard Munch exhibition at the museum that bears his name in Oslo. Satyricon had written a 56-minute piece inspired by Edvard Munch’s work. And to be fair, much of Edvard Munch’s work is very dark, so one could easily see how his work might be influential on a black metal band. The exhibition was in a pitch-black room except for the light that illuminated Munch’s work. There was a bench the length of a wall in which people were sitting – some closing their eyes. After walking around the perimeter of the room admiring the different paintings, I joined some of the other patrons on the bench and closed my eyes. This was only the beginning of my time in Norway, but I was already immersing myself in the darkness of Norwegian black metal. The darkness that I had waited twenty years to experience.