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Interview with Euronymous for Morbid Magazine 1987
You had planned a tour in Italy, what will happen now that Manheim is gone?
Euro: We'll just use Torben. But the tour will be in December instead of August as first planned. This is for several reasons.
Does Maniac use distortion on his vocals or is his voice natural?
Euro: Maniac's voice is actually natural! When I first heard him I was sure that he used distortion, but he don't. You can hear that on the demo/record, because he and Messiah use the same mike together! But I think he uses some ki nd of space effect.
How do you manage to play so fast?
Euro: Well, you know that the more practice you get the faster it goes, and we've played for three years, now. But we don't play fast compared to bands like Napalm Death! They're fast!
Has your demo sold well?
Euro: We've sold some, but most people prefer to wait for the record, I think. We've sold a couple of hundred records, even before it's out!
Are any record labels interested to make a deal with you?
Euro: I don't know.We haven't tried to get a deal yet. We recently got a letter from some label called Thunder Records. They wanted a demo so I sent them one. But except from that we haven't sent out any demo to record companies at all.A lot of people have told us that we'd get a deal easily, but we hate record companies. If we'd sign a deal, we'd loose all control. Now we do everything ourself, distribution, promotions and stuff, on our own label called "Posercorpse Music, Inc. "If we sign a deal, we might get much better distribution and more money, but still we prefer to do things ourself. I mean, which rec. company would print our lyrics? However, if we one day do sign a deal, I doubt that it will be more than a one or two record deal.
Were do people that buy your demo come from?
Euro: From all of the world.We've even got a lot of letters from strange places like Japan, Australia, Poland, Chile and Peru!
What do you think of the Norwegian thrash scene?
Euro: It sucks, but I think it starts to build up now. More and more people seem to become active in the scene which I think is good. One thing which also is good is that punks and thrashers now start uniting. But I think that more girls should get into the scene! I know about just 5-6 of them here in this country. However, the Norwegian scene has alot of suckers!It is people who just walk around, thinking "I listen to Slayer, I'm hard!" and we also have those who make crooked use on bands and others, I'm not going to mention any names, but this is Bad!
Do you feel that many people buy your demo after they have read a Fanzine with you in it?
Euro: Yeah, I think that's the way most people get to know about us. We've also been played on lots of local radios everywhere, but it's deffinetly the fanzines who make most of the promotion.
What music do you listen to?
Euro: Personally I listen a lot to electronic syntheziser music like Klaus Schule, Tangerine Dream, Conrad Schnitzler and Brian Eno. I also listen to lots of thrash and some hardcore. But, NO disco shit, pop music or HM.
What do you think about Vomit and the music they play?
Euro: They rule! Their new stuff is so great! To be honest, I think they're better than us! They're really great guys. When Manheim left us they lent us Torben and they let us come to practice at their rehearsalplace every weekend. That's a cool attitude. Support them! They will have a new demo out this autumn.
You visited Kreator some time ago, how did they react when they first heard you?
Euro: The German thrashers are psychos! At that time we had only released "P.F.A" demo, and a lot of them loved it! Then you have to be sick!
You've got some help from Metalion of Slayer Mag. what do you think of him and the Fanzine?
Euro: Metalion is a fucking great guy and our best friend. If it haden't been for him....... The Deathcrush record is dedicated to him, and he truly deserves it! His 'zine is one of the best ive seen and also definitely the sickest.
#black metal#norweigan black metal#dead from mayhem#mayhem#mayhem band#pelle mayhem#true norwegian black metal#dead mayhem#norwegian black metal#the true mayhem#oystein mayhem#oystein aarseth#øystein#øystein mayhem#øystein aarseth#euronymous mayhem#mayhem euronymous#euronymous#morbid#morbid magazine#interview#metal music
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I am so passed April fools cause life hard and busy but I hope we're still in a silly mood ;;v;;
(very belated) April Black Butler Animo Black Arts Magazine- Ciel Dies.
I really needed to participate in this months mag for 2 reasons, 1) because I missed doing last months mag even though the prompt that I had pitched since day 1 of me joining (wild west) was finally selected... and I didn't even get to participate. so I'm bummed. and 2) because I actually also am mostly responsible for conceiving this prompt and I am proud of myself(as well as everyone else who participated hahaaa) for having an idea. so yes.
I also got to do the cover this time.
#yea apperantly the Victorians would accidentally poison themselves because arsenic would be confused with flour#doesn't really matter that arsenic was already accepted as a poison in this time and so wouldn't be in the house as much#or that injesting it probably wouldnt kill someone instantly. cause drawing this was fun and thats all that matters#plus Ciel small and Bard probably put.... a lot#poor bard#and ciel him too#also take all of this info with a grain of salt cause my knowledge extends as far as some google articles#that's kinda it#but it's still fun#the prompt may be morbid but trust me thinking of it was really funny#kuroshitsuji#black butler#Black Arts Magazine#Black Butler animo#kuroshitsuji fanart#fanart#sebastian michaelis#ciel phantomhive#digital art#bard black butler#o!ciel#doodle#oh the victorians#and their pretty powder
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#hit parader#hit parader magazine#sepultura#brother cane#morbid angel#greta#cathedral#my sister's machine
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Chuck Schuldiner (DEATH), Richard Brunelle (MORBID ANGEL) and Allen West (OBITUARY) back in the early 90's. This was taken for a Death Metal feature in "Guitar World Magazine" from 1992...
#DEATH#MORBID ANGEL#OBITUARY#Chuck Schuldiner#Richard Brunelle#Allen West#90's#90s#1992#Guitar World Magazine#death metal#oldschool death metal#OSDM#metal#USA
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#goth#gothcore#goth aesthetic#gothic aesthetic#Gothic Bite Magazine#Witch#Witchcraft#History#Witch Trial#ocd vampire#skull#morbid#macabre#creepy#grotesque#horror#dark
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The Morbid Curiosity zine
July is International Zine Month, which I think is cool. Back before the internet was much of a thing, in the days before Google…jeez, before LiveJournal and Myspace, I made a zine called Morbid Curiosity. I published the first issue in 1997. I can’t believe it’s been 26 years. Morbid Curiosity collected true confessional stories from authors around the world. Some of them were professionals.…
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#confessional essays#International Zine Month#morbid curiosity#Morbid Curiosity magazine#true crime#true story#zine
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There's no such thing as safety. It can happen to anyone at any time. There's no such thing as security. And although we try to instill in ourselves a sense that we should try to make the most of every day, of course we don't. and you may go to the funeral of a friend, and you may think the deepest and the darkest and the most profound thoughts, but the next day, you're worrying about the most pathetic and petty things.
MORRISSEY
#morrissey#years of refusal#jerry finn#filter magazine#death#funeral#funerals#new year's resolutions#resolutions#morbid#2009#february#fate
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[Update: Apocalypse in Pink part 2 is out now]
Before Barbenheimer, there was “Apocalypse in Pink,” the August 1983 theme of fashion/culture magazine SPECTAGORIA. The issue’s controversial imagery of Barbie-esque models attempting to stay gorgeous and glamorous amidst nuclear annihilation sought to, in the words of editor/photographer Sera Clairmont, “revel in the morbid absurdity of the new American condition,” an “anxiety vibrating underneath all our plastic smiles.”
“It’s The Hot Pink Cold War,” Clairmont wrote in her introduction. “It’s ‘Material Girl’ on the radio and ‘WarGames’ at the drive-in. It’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ interrupted by the emergency broadcast signal. We’re told to look sexy, dress fashionable, make money, and spend money, but be sure we’re just the right amount of terrified about the bomb. Get that Malibu dream home, keep working on that perfect body, sip cocktails by the pool in your little pink bikini and watching the stocks go up — but STAY VIGILANT! and for God’s sake vote Republican, because that dream home could melt into a pink plastic inferno at any given moment. Just don’t stop smiling as the blast liquefies your skin into bubbling ooze like a Barbie doll in a microwave - it’s bad for the economy.”
***Continued in PART 2***
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NOTE: This is a work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.
If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.
#rob sheridan#barbie#barbie movie#barbenheimer#synthography#nightmAIres#ai horror#ai art#synthography horror#alternate history#writing#spectagoria#sera clairmont#horror fashion#ai fashion
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Samhain Magazine | Dec 1986 | Ireland
#1980s#1986#vintage#magazine#cover#samhain#ireland#irish#united kingdom#europe#horror#morbid#macabre#film#jason#freddy#sam hain#the evil dead
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omg doe brought up this AMAZINGGG idea abt the crime lord yan and his lawyer darling hello hey hi!!!!!!
this kinda got away from me because it is 3am but i nEEEEEDED to get this out bjsjsjjs i blame @carnivorousyandeere
i know i wrote the initial dynamic for his darling to be his lawyer, in that they’re on his side in court to keep him from getting sent to prison BUT BUT BUT hear me out T_T
lawyer darling who put yan kingpin away.
as in ,, you are the reason he was found guilty. you are the one, when the judge announced the final verdict, that his gaze turned to and that he smiled for, then. sentenced to death, before it was appealed to multiple life sentences; the beginning of the end of his empire.
you, you, you — the cause of his downfall.
after the infamous internationally documented case, your career soars to unprecedented heights. you’re the lawyer on every newspaper in every country, all the tv channels and glossy magazines. every law school wants you to speak at their graduation ceremonies. every firm’s reaching out to you. the whole world knows your name; you have everything!
—so why do you keep going back to the man who now has nothing?
the kingpin looks the same as he did that fateful day in court. only now, there’s bags under his eyes, and a five o clock shadow on his jaw; lips still curled in an easygoing smile. he laughs when he sees you, as if the two of you were merely old friends who hadn’t caught up in a while.
as if you’re not visiting him years later in the city’s most high security prison.
he grins. “come to gloat, have ‘ya?”
“you’ve committed countless crimes.” you state. “stolen lives and livelihoods. broken up families. killed good men. and still, all these years later, no remorse?”
“don’t get ‘yer panties in a twist,” he huffs, lazily leans back in the rickety prison chair so that he’s swinging it back and forth on its back legs, like a child. how absurd that even the garish orange uniform of a prison should suit him, “comes with the job description, don’t it?”
“i think about you,” you admit, eyeing the chains that bind his handcuffed hands to the desk in front of him. you look up, meet his gaze through the thick, dirty pane that separates you from him. keeps you safe. out of his reach, if only just.
a low whistle. “you sure know how to make a man feel special, y’know. been followin’ your cases. never put another one like me away, did ‘ya?” he grins. “i like that i’m special. makes me feel all warm ‘nd fuzzy inside.”
“wow,” you let out. “you really have gone insane.”
“always been a ‘lil crazy! like i said, part of the job description. though i’ve been thinkin’ recently,” he starts.
your fascination prompts you to lean closer. a sort of morbid curiosity that yearns to solve the puzzle of his twisted mind, slot the pieces you’ve already got in a way that makes them fit. you’ve got this weird feeling that you’re missing something. a big piece, maybe. one of the central ones.
“thinking about what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, almost conspiratorial. he leans in, too, all wide eyes—
—and then he jerks forward with the chains around the cuffs on his wrists pulled taut as he suddenly yanks them all the way, like a feral dog pulling on its leash. he looks like one, too, with that glint in his eyes.
“fuck!”
you barely even register that you’re on the floor until he laughs, low in his throat. he makes a vague gesture to your chair, toppled over on its side.
“oops.” he says, coyly. “didn’t mean to scare ‘ya.”
“liar,” you hiss, standing up to dust yourself off. this was stupid. why would you even entertain the idea of a civil conversation with a madman?
he gasps dramatically. “this is slander, your honour!”
“i’m leaving,” you scoff. “i don’t even know why i even came down here. you’re clearly fucking crazy.”
“and you’re no fun!” he pouts. “how ‘bout you stay just a little longer and i’ll make it worth ‘yer time, pretty please?”
“no can do,” you turn on your heels and reach for the door, fingers curled around the handle as you spare him one final glance over your shoulder— “have fun rotting in here for the rest of your life, psycho.”
—except the door won’t open. you try again, and again once more. the handle won’t budge. an awful sense of urgency overcomes you as you desperately shake the handle in a futile attempt to get it to just—
“funny ‘yer calling me crazy, ‘cus einstein once said real insanity is doin’ the same thing,” he beams. “over and over and over and over again, and expecting different results. door’s locked, lovely. ‘yer not getting out from there, ‘m afraid.”
you turn back then, still holding onto that door like a lifeline. he’s standing up, rubbing sore wrists that are, you realise with a sinking feeling, no longer bound by the handcuffs that kept him chained; on a short leash, like a good dog.
“what are you doing…?” your voice shakes, and it’s a far cry to the headstrong, unwavering lawyer who put the world’s most notorious criminal behind bars. “what the fuck—”
“i told you i’d make it worth your while t’stay,” he rolls up his sleeves, before pushing all of his hair (longer and greasier than the last you saw him) out of his face, features set in a determination you’ve never glimpsed before. familiar eyes twinkle with mischief. “and i meant it, y’know. the world’s very best lawyer came so far to see me! least i can do is greet ‘em properly.”
“‘cus see, the other prisoners wouldn’t be so nice. but i’ve been thinkin’ about you too.” he pulls his arm back and his fist comes flying at the pane. “don’t wanna have a conversation or nothin’ like that, nah, we talked enough.”
“you’ve been thinking about me, i’ve been waiting around for you…” bloody knuckles against cracks in the one barrier that is keeping you safe from him. you watch, helpless, as it threatens to break beneath the brute force of his trained fists.
“now let me just come over there,” he pulls his arm back again, ready to strike; knuckles raw and red, like the maniacal grin carved onto his pretty, flushed face. a deep blush and a shaky smile as those fists bring it all crashing down. “and show you how much i missed my faaavourite lawyer in the whole wide world.”
“—that be a good enough reason to stick around?” he asks slyly, before catching himself. “oh, silly me.” he shakes his head, apologetically, as he steps over broken shards on the floor, tainted with his blood. “doesn’t matter what ‘ya say.” a low hum when scarred hands reach out for you. “i waited so long for you…”
“… so, let’s make up reaaalllll good for all that lost time, okay?”
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I've only watched the first season of jjk and frankly I despise Mahito, but god the yandere potential is just too damn good to ignore.
He's provocative, doing anything and everything he can to get a rise out of you.
Though honestly, creepy would be a more accurate description. Even for a curse, Mahito shows a remarkable disregard for the desires of others. He’s a selfish, morbid creature, and although there’s something dark, twisted, and sick blooming in his chest for you, this doesn’t change the core traits of his personality. It doesn’t change what he is, what he’s capable of, what he enjoys doing – and unfortunately for you, his infatuation with you means that every ounce of his time, attention, and curiosity is channeled directly at you.
And even from the beginnings of your unwilling ‘relationship’ with him, this will be uncomfortably obvious.
Catching his attention is a difficult, nebulous thing, but once you’ve managed to snag it, you’ll never shake it off. Very early on he’s attached to your hip, following you around and always, always blabbering on and on about this and that, asking you all sorts of questions that leave you simultaneously disgusted and exasperated.
(Questions like hey, if you had to eat another human, where would you start? Questions like when you menstruate, can you feel it coming out of you? Describe it to me – and show it to me too, okay? I can smell that you’re currently in that phase, what do you mean you won’t take your pants off right now? Why does it matter that we’re in a grocery store? Maybe they'd like to watch too.)
He’s irritating and strange, and you’ll know that there’s something seriously wrong with him without ever even needing to see him using his cursed energy.
And as he grows more attached and invests more time and curiosity in you, a rather disturbing situation begins unfolding – you absolutely did not invite Mahito to live with you, but he doesn’t seem to understand that you don’t want him in your apartment every moment of the day.
When you wake up in the mornings, he’s standing over your bed, face so close to yours that he can feel your breaths against his cold lips, his own stretching wider than humanly possible to morph into a grin that immediately has you awake and alert.
He’ll follow you around your modest apartment as you get ready for work, those mismatched eyes of his glued to your figure watching as you get dressed, your movements hurried and uncomfortable because why the fuck is he looking at you like that?
And he’s not quiet about it either – he’s commenting the whole time, talking about how he’s read that the discharge stains visible on your underwear are a sign that you have good vaginal health.
He’s telling you that you really should tighten up the straps on your bra – all the Playboy magazines and borderline pornos he’s seen in theaters always have the women wearing very perky bras, and shouldn’t you be insecure about that like most human women?
(He’s quick to point out that yours aren’t perky, but rather some other description, something much less flattering and much more damaging.)
He’ll watch as you brush your teeth, tilting his head like some sort of animal as those mismatched eyes take in your every movement, a smile slowly forming on his lips that makes something heavy and sick sit in the base of your stomach.
Immediately after you’re done, practically before you’ve finished spitting out the toothpaste, he’s immediately snatching the brush and settling it against his own tongue, twirling around the bristles against his teeth and tongue as he hums. He’s narrating the taste to you, telling you that it’s minty but also a bit sweet and earthy, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks at the bristles and giggles. He’ll follow you around with that damn toothbrush in his mouth, staying glued to your heel like some oversized, murderous puppy.
He’s touching your breakfast as you cook it, a finger reaching in to burst the yolk of your fried egg, a thumb and pointer finger reaching into the toaster to squish and pinch at a section of your toast so that it’s cracked and crumbly and has the imprint of his fingerprints against it.
He’s slipping in through the bottom crack of the door as you use the toilet, peeking up at you and smiling too widely, asking you if it feels good when you urinate? I’ve heard that some women think it feels good to hold it in. Next time you have to go, get me first. I want to see how long you can hold it for.
And as time passes, it only becomes worse – he gets more invasive, more pushy, wanting to insert himself into every possible aspect of your life because you’re just so fascinating and the way you respond to him is just so delicious. He’s still forcing you to share intimate supplies like toothbrushes and underwear.
(Though he never returns the underwear clean after stealing them for a few days. There’s always a multitude of mysterious stains in colors you don’t understand – you can handle the very obvious cum stains, albeit begrudgingly and with bile rising up your throat, but what the hell had he been doing that resulted in bright orange stains?)
He’s still asking you all sorts of questions about extremely personal topics, blinking at you with all the innocent curiosity in the world, making you feel like the crazy one for being uncomfortable when asked how many fingers you’ve ever managed to stuff inside yourself and oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask – have you ever tried fisting? I bet I could put a finger inside you and then just expand it bigger and bigger until it’s the size of my fist or maybe even more. That sounds fun! Let’s do that. Right now.
He’ll be standing next to you as you brush your hair or brush over it, watching intently and prying the brush out of your hands, pulling at the caught strands and plopping them into his mouth, swishing the hairs around before audibly swallowing them, licking his lips and running off to the shower to find any stray hairs against the tiled walls.
(He won’t verbally explain this particular habit to you, but it stems from a strange, possessive desire to have a piece of you inside of him, the concept of having your DNA within his body making him strangely giddy. He refuses to touch or alter your soul simply because he doesn’t want to change anything about you, and this feels the closest he can get in place of it. The closest he can get to you.)
He’ll open up your makeup bag and drawer, digging with grubby fingers and opening each and every product, smearing a bit across his wrist and returning it back uncapped, occasionally grabbing sticks of lipstick and letting his tongue run across the pigmented product, teeth sinking down as he takes a bite, face twisting up a bit because yuck, it tastes like chemicals!
He’ll grab your makeup brushes and run them along the areas of his body that he’s read are the main production points of pheromones, some raunchy article he’d read claiming that women are highly affected by them and are subconsciously attracted to them.
(The brush gets rubbed across his underarms and navel, a few silver, curly hairs getting stuck in the brush bristles that he figures only imbues more of his natural scent into the tool.)
And Mahito isn’t at all shy about doing any of these things in front of you – in fact, he actively encourages you to look, telling you that it’s good to be honest with each other, that it’s sweet how interested you are in what he’s doing, even if that interest manifests as you angrily yelling at him and begging him to stop being such a freak.
Really, Mahito consciously learns about human societal standards and perceptions of privacy and actively breaks them when it comes to you. He likes to see how far he can push you, just how much you can take before you start crumbling.
He wants to understand what makes you tick, how you function, what your biggest fears are, the order you eat your food, the way you breath, how you sniffle and hiccup when you're crying.
He's a freak in every sense of the word, and once he's grown any sort of attachment to you, he's like a parasite that you just can't get rid of. He'll feed off of you, growing greedier and greedier, but still somehow managing to find some new way to humiliate you, some new way to get you angry enough to scream and lash out at him but terrified enough to stop yourself.
And oh, seeing that look on your face when you're angry enough you could cry makes him feel so, so very good, all the blood rushing south and making him tell you in that sing-songy, too-chipper voice of his to give me your panties you're wearing right now, but stay here. It's better when you watch.
He's the worst, in every sense of the word.
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#circus magazine#circus#barney greenway#napalm death#trey azagthoth#morbid angel#chris barnes#bob rusay#alex webster#cannibal corpse
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Visions Magazine with Tobias Forge on the idea behind Rite Here Rite Now, the importance of soundtracks in general and how he distinguishes between himself and his characters (Visions Magazine issue nr. 377, 08/2024)
Full translation of the included interview by me below the cut - buckle up, this is a long post! There are no spoilers for RHRN in this.
Markus Hockenbrink: Tobias, have you ever watched the movie Metallica: Though The Never?
Tobias Forge: Yes, once, when it had just come out. The topic Metallica came up when we were taking care of the funding for [RHRN]. Every larger production company – and I have to emphasise here that this was before Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour and her extremely successful movie about it – voiced a lot of concern back then whether anybody would still be interested in concert movies. I had to explain time and again that my movie wouldn’t be a typical concert movie, to which I was asked several times: “Oh, so something like Through The Never?” I had to deny that again. We tell a story in our movie most of our fans are already familiar with. So it’s not an entirely new concept, which is already the first distinction from Through The Never. If you only consider that there is a concert part and a feature film part, then those two movies are probably similar. But that also applies to La La Land.
M. Hockenbrink: You describe your movie as a combination of Kiss’ Alive II, Ralph Bakshi cartoons and silent film horror. Is that a kind of childhood dream that comes true there?
T. Forge: Definitely. For as long as I’ve been interested in music, I’ve also been interested in film and television. Working in film could have also been a career option for me, but I always got the rather annoying impression that one would have to go to film school to really find a place in that field. School was never my strong suit, I see myself more as a autodidact in that regard. That I had the opportunity to work on/contribute to my own movie as a sorcerer’s apprentice of sorts is a real privilege. That is a dream come true but it is also something I can picture more of in the future. Next time maybe without the band.
M. Hockenbrink: Can you remember a specific moment in your life when you realised that you were especially drawn to topics that are slightly morbid and unsettling?
T. Forge: I think that due to my family I came in contact with vastly different kinds of pop culture from a very young age. In more traditional families with more conservative parents and siblings of similar ages, you only really start with your respective journey to find yourself in your teens. Then there are often restrictions that are meant to distract from those darker influences. My parents on the other hand are very liberal and my brother was 13 years older than me. There were never limits or censorship for me. My childhood didn’t go by without rules entirely, but I was always allowed to watch or listen to what my brother was also watching or listening to. That was I was exposed to all kinds of teenage culture from the beginning. Sure, I also liked Pippi Longstocking and He-Man. But that was always combined with the French arthouse films my mother liked to watch or the horror flicks my brother was into. I can’t recall a particularly striking horror film experience, but I still remember the first time it dawned on me that movies don’t just exist, they’re made.
M. Hockenbrink: How do you mean?
T. Forge: My father worked as a documentary maker in television. His job was to connect the video track and the sound track in a fitting way for different film production. I saw Jaws on television with him as a small child. It’s important to note that my father is not somebody who can just quietly enjoy films but somebody who likes to butt in. Thanks to him I already had a kind of epiphany during the introduction. He said: “Look closely! There is nothing to see in this underwater scenery except the algae. Technically completely harmless. But it only takes the ominous music to turn the whole scene into pure horror already!” And I thought: Wow! That’s true! Later in the movie you only have to hear that music and it immediately puts you on edge, even when there’s nobody in the water right now. They don’t even have to show the shark anymore. I found it fascinating that the [viewer’s] senses/perception could be manipulated like that. Ever since I’ve been viewing films with different eyes. I can still allow myself to dive into the story but at the same time I see the practical aspect to film-making.
M. Hockenbrink: I had a similar feeling during the introduction of Shining: technically a cozy road trip in the mountains, but a pure nightmare with the music.
T. Forge: I’m with you on that. Shining is one of the best movies of all time. And funnily enough, only the intro sequence was actually shot in nature. All the other scenes, even if they were outside, were filmed in the studio. Exactly that kind of craftsmanship is what I find inspiring.
M. Hockenbrink: With that in mind, what makes a good soundtrack in your opinion?
T. Forge: We already talked about Jaws, but I can think of Eyes Wide Shut as another example. There is that short piano theme that comes up again and again, incredibly effective. A good soundtrack needs to deliver something that you don’t have to be able to see to perceive its existence. Sure, there are no monsters in Eyes Wide Shut, aside from the main character’s jealousy as an internal monster maybe. But just like the music in Jaws, the theme from Eyes Wide Shut symbolises something that doesn’t have to be shown. The sound is enough. That is also a commonly used effect in adventure and love movies. You just put in a short vignette to describe the love between two characters. In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker also has his own theme, that is used every time when things get emotional and you’re supposed to feel that hope. You’ve got to pay attention to that. Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th also has a personal theme to recognise him by. Every time you hear it you immediately know “Oh shit, he’s nearby!”
M. Hockenbrink: What about soundtracks that are made up of songs?
T. Forge: With that, I’m especially thinking of Silence of the Lambs. In the scene where Buffalo Bill dresses up as a woman and dances around his basement, a song called Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus is playing. I have no idea how the artist felt that since the song is now so irrevocably connected to that awful scene, that you can’t listen to it anymore without thinking of it.
M. Hockenbrink: Do you feel like soundtrack work is more appreciated now than it used to be?
T. Forge: I think that it’s definitely gained importance over the last 40 years. The right song on the right soundtrack can be incredibly powerful. Just think of Stranger Things. Obviously, Metallica and Kate Bush already had successful careers before, but what happened with Master of Puppets and Running Up That Hill following the series was something else entirely. The songs were associated so strongly with the narrative, that way more people listened to them than before. Of course I’m a strong advocate for live music but I also realised that nothing is as strong as the connection of visuals and music. That is still the most powerful way to appeal to a deeper emotion through the association.
M. Hockenbrink: More or less a shortcut to the subconscious.
T. Forge: Exactly. But you can’t be cynical about that either. If I was an A&R person at a big label, I would probably also say: “You just have to find a spot for one of your songs on a popular soundtrack, then you’ll have made it!” That’s really how it is. But when you view it from an artistic perspective, when you want to reach people a certain way or bring across a certain message or a certain feeling, the combination of visuals and sound can’t be topped.
M. Hockenbrink: It especially lends itself to an immersive experience, as seems to be in the foreground of [RHRN]. An album by Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden ends at some point, then you’re gone from that metal world again. With Ghost, however, you get the feeling that the illusion just keeps on going, across several media. Did you plan the Ghost mythology like this from the start?
T. Forge: In part. When I started with the band, I only wanted to make a standalone album. The concept was supposed to be interesting and practical, but I wasn’t planning for Ghost to be a huge thing. The style I pictured has its own limits in my opinion. The band was supposed to function a certain way and appeal to a certain target audience. The concert was supposed to be a theatrical performance in the literal sense. Ghost were never supposed to perform in a normal rock club nor go on tour. I wanted more of a kind of Vaudeville show in a proper plushy theatre. The band was supposed to be as anonymous as the actors that stand on stage and play, say, Faust. The idea behind this was: Those who don’t know who the people are on stage are more ready to follow the story. Then we would perform three days back-to-back in select cities. Berlin, Amsterdam, London. Just like Diamanda Galás who can more likely be found at a culture festival than in a rock shack. But things turned out differently in the end, and I had to kiss my original ideas goodbye again, so to speak.
M. Hockenbrink: Why?
T. Forge: After the success of our debut album, it became clear to me that more conventional concerts were going to be demanded of us and that I could only really say yes or no. This problem became worse after our shift to a bigger label. It became clear that my vision of telling stories clashed with the live sector and requirements for success more and more. At a certain point anonymity doesn’t work anymore and I had to make peace with that in the end. I originally didn’t even want to do interviews but that’s obviously tricky when you want to sell records. The question that I constantly ask myself since is how I can do those things best in the Ghost way without denying the original Vaudeville spirit.
M. Hockenbrink: In his autobiography Golf Monster, Alice Cooper talks about himself in third person a lot when he is talking about his character. Are you feeling similarly at this point?
T. Forge: At least I can definitely see where he’s coming from. There is a difference between the person Vincent Furnier and the character Alice Cooper. I believe that he was on the verge of completely transforming into Alice Cooper at one point – to the point where one has to decide where they want to live or die. In the end he decided to remain Vincent Furnier and only become Alice Cooper for work, on stage. So far I’ve been fortunate to combine the two pretty well, but had I started Ghost ten years earlier in my life, it would have probably affected me similarly to how Alice Cooper did with Vincent Furnier in his time. But with my humble experience as an actor I have to say: every character you play becomes a part of you to a certain extent. You have to find certain qualities – good or bad – within yourself to bring such a character to life. I think that most actors only play one or two roles throughout their life that they then end up being known for. The different characters that I’ve portrayed on stage are not only very similar but actually also a part of me. Fortunately a part of me that I don’t want to deal with all day long.
M. Hockenbrink: Too cynical and antisocial?
T. Forge: Cardinal Copia or Cardi, as I like to call him, is not an all-around cool person, but that makes him so fun to play for me. He is half Freddie Mercury and half Jacques Clouseau. Kind of clumsy, kind of silly, kind of stupid. The kind of guy who trips over his own feet but catches himself elegantly. That’s also me in a way, but not just. And I think that’s easier to embody than a daredevil hero character who can rival anyone and gets all the ladies. When somebody plays only those characters their whole life, it will probably really go to their head. Especially when there are drugs involved on top of that.
M. Hockenbrink: With all that fondness of doom that can be found with Ghost, that universe also has something humorous about it, benign even. It that an intentionally included contradiction?
T. Forge: Yes, and it is also very important to me that it comes across like that. For me that also has something to do with the evolution of metal. Originally it was mostly a phenomenon connected to the youth, nowadays the musicians and their fans are close to retiring. That brings a certain maturity. Even the Norwegian black metal musicians who were super pissed and extreme 30 years ago and were only made of hate and aggression are well-adjusted people now. Bearded fathers and grandfathers with a pleasant view on life that make others laugh. I see a certain duality there. Everything that has something to do with goth, with metal, with horror, appears dark, dismal and hostile at first. But in reality, that can all be extremely life-affirming and a source of great joy for many people. So pretty much the opposite.
M. Hockenbrink: Speaking of horror: could you imagine making a real feature film some day?
T. Forge: Yes, I would love that. I’m well aware that it’s not going to be easy to make what I’m picturing a reality, just because I’ve done directing once with [RHRN] now. The creative liberty I got to enjoy there also was due to the fact that I funded the movie myself. So nobody was meddling with it. That is likely completely different when you work on behalf of a big studio, because we are talking about different sums here. If I only go off my dreams, I would name two points of reference. One is Shining, the other Bram Stoker’s Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola. I would like to make a movie that’s only shot in a studio, with elaborate sets, matte painting and all that. No outside shots, no special effects, no green screen. And no actors who only gets to see what they were actually doing after the fact. Proper old-school. The way movies are actually meant to look.
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ℭ𝔥𝔲𝔠𝔨 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔲𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔯 (𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥), 𝔄𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫 𝔚𝔢𝔰𝔱 (𝔒𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶) 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℜ𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔅𝔯𝔲𝔫𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢 (𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔟𝔦𝔡 𝔄𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩) 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔶 գօ’𝔰…
(𝔭𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔊𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔯 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔦𝔫𝔢 - յգգշ)
#MORBID ANGEL#DEATH#obituary#Chuck Schuldiner#Allen West#Richard Brunelle#90's#90s#metal#osdm#oldschool death metal#florida death metal#Guitar World Magazine#1992#USA
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Death's Garden contributor: George Neville-Neil
George Neville-Neil was friends with my roommate, before I met him myself, way back in the day. Over the next 10 years, I invited George to write several essays for Morbid Curiosity magazine. I’ll always be grateful that he read one of them at the initial Morbid Curiosity release party in November 1998. Officially, George Neville-Neil is a quiet Irish boy trapped in the body of a Jewish…
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#Deaths Garden Revisited#Jim Morrison grave#Morbid Curiosity Cures the Blues#Morbid Curiosity magazine#Paris cemeteries#Pere Lachaise Cemetery
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