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Angst-filled black metal music became my identity. Until I was persuaded to really listen to the lyrics | Ana Schnabl

My teenage self loved the misanthropic look and sound of these bands, but I was horrified when I learned what they representedLike many bad teenage ideas, it began with a friend I admired a little too much. He was my best friend – he seemed sure of himself and possessed that type of musical taste that made everything else feel cringe. He moved from genre to genre with a sense of purpose. I, meanwhile, merely followed – diligently, even devoutly. When he discovered black metal, I followed him there too.Soon, my bedroom began to resemble a mausoleum: there were band posters featuring men made up to look like corpses glowering into Nordic fog, and CDs with tracklists that looked more like incantations than music. I began dressing the part – black on black on black. I scoured forums for rare pressings and live bootlegs. And yet, I didn’t really know what I was listening to.Ana Schnabl is a Slovenian novelist, editor and critic Continue reading...

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