Richmond, VA stoners ov death Cannabis Corpse are currently burning their way through the European continent, with planned raids on Russia and the UK coming up quick, and yours truly is along for the ride to hustle merch and document the madness. Full disclosure: I work with the band and their label, but I’m doing this tour diary not as a sneaky promotional trick, but because I’m in fucking Europe with a bunch of awesome death metal dudes and wanted to write about the experience. So here goes.

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What’s up with these black metal dudes turning out to be all refined n’ shit? First Gaahl launched a high-end clothing line for women, and now Satyr (né Sigurd Wong Raven) is apparently collaborating with Italian winemaker Luca Roagna on two variets of red wine, Rosso di Alleanza Nero Wong Raven 2009 and Unione di Nero Wong Raven 2006.

Says Swedish website From Beyond (excuse Google translator’s less-than-poetic interpretation of the original text):

“Black Metal Wine, now how can such a concoction taste? Blood and sulfur with the taste of metal and may, or may simply be the taste of sickness and musty decay you get on your tongue? This seemed so obviously important to sort out so I took home and ordered a bottle of Rosso di Alleanza Nero Wongraven2009 . What I can spontaneously say is that you, hoping that the wine would taste like hell will be disappointed.”

Then the guy goes on talk about the wine in greater detail, but I don’t actually know that much about wine so whatever.

The article does not include details on where one can order Satyr’s latest offering, but I’m sure enterprising fans can figure it out.

-AR

Thanks: Mick Stingley

Before there were blogs there were these things called magazines, and the only metal magazine we still get excited about reading every month is Decibel. Here’s managing editor Andrew Bonazelli.

“People tend to avoid people in capes. I know that’s not the case here… but look at these people.” —Paul Rudd, Role Models

Indeed, there are few (public) places on earth where capes are not frowned upon. The LARP-friendly park space in Role Models is one of them; another is evidently the V.I.P. beer tent at 2006’s Download Fest in Donington Park, England, ’cause I saw Satyricon’s Frost totally stroll through the morass of international “journalists” like he was ready to leap off a Hong Kong skyscraper.

(I know, the Batman comparison is reaching — Frost is more like the kind of guy who’d sew a cell phone bomb in your gunt.)

Anyway, his band’s 1996 full-length, Nemesis Divina — the latest honoree in our Hall of Fame, which is a lot easier to assemble when there are two people to interview — struts just as confidently in the shaky terrain between orthodoxy and abandon. Of course, superfans will know that there weren’t just two interviews to conduct — resident Darkthrone hiking advocate Nocturno Culto helped out on guitar and very nearly stuck around permanently. That’s just one of many intriguing nuggets surrounding the creation of Nemesis — Satyr discovered that Frost was nearly blind, and the titillating NSFW “Mother North” video was one of Norwegian black metal’s first.

Some (adults) would suggest that this was Satyricon’s last good record. Some (kids) have always found them clownish. Where do you guys stand?

-AB

You can order the January 2011 issue of Decibel here if you wanna read the Hall of Fame entry on Satyricon’s Nemesis Divina. But if you get a full subscription, not only will you never miss a Hall of Fame, but every month you’ll get an exclusive flexi disc of never-before-released music, too.

As a man, I’m painfully aware that at any metal show the chances of me being squeezed between two sweaty fat dudes in the front row for 90 minutes is infinitely higher than me being near anything that remotely resembles a female. I say “resembles” because I still remember the time my buddy wrestled a “dude” to the floor of the Commodore Ballroom after they both caught either end of Jimmy Bower’s drumstick. The look on his face when he heard obscenities yelled at him in a screeched, soprano voice ranks pretty highly among my favorite concert memories.

This time the venue was familiar, the metal crowd certainly was not. Oh sure, I already expected the Cradle of Filth fans who can count more zippers, buckles and chains on their outfits than times they’ve heard their parents say they’re proud of them, but beyond platform soles and midnight blue dreadlocks there were many perfectly normal and some perfectly curvy women in attendance. Now, I’ve never really believed that Dani Filth could be a sex symbol for anyone old enough to buy beer, but I guess being the front man of a popular metal band can make even a hideous midget significantly more fuckable. Then again, the gals probably just came out to hear the music.

Oh yeah, you probably want to hear about the music.

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