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Norwegian Aryan Black Metal

Lords of Chaos

Norwegian Aryan Black Metal was a slogan used on some Black Metal records, making explicit a connection between musical identity and far-right nationalism. The evidence places the phrase within a broader network of shared media, music, and movement-crossing contacts, but does not establish it as a formal doctrine or as a description of every musician in the scene.

Meaning and Use

The book identifies Norwegian Aryan Black Metal as one of the slogans that Black Metal bands used on their records. It situates that language in a political scene that understood music as a means of binding activists together. The slogan therefore made a political claim through the music’s own channels of circulation, rather than appearing only in party literature or political meetings.

That connection did not mean the two scenes held a fully articulated or uniform program. The account notes that far-right groups often said little about what they wanted beyond complaints about immigration and immigrants. The phrase signals an ideological alignment, but the evidence does not define a single, comprehensive political platform behind it.

Channels of Contact

Contact between Black Metal and nationalist politics also travelled through fanzines. Their advertisements promoted NorEffekter, an outlet for books such as The Turner Diaries and neo-Nazi skinhead music, as well as political groups; articles in the same publications further reinforced ideological links. The book records people moving between the scenes, sometimes changing their politics and hairstyle from one day to the next. The slogan belonged to this porous environment of music, print, and affiliation.

Music could offer a practical point of connection as well as a shared vocabulary. Varg Vikernes was expected to contribute a track to a compilation released by Boot Boy Records, although the plan did not come to fruition. The account observes that this may have been fortunate for him: the compilation was the first of its kind the writer had seen to be sharply criticized in Nordland, described as Europe’s most prestigious neo-Nazi magazine. The episode shows that contact did not guarantee acceptance, even among politically adjacent circles.

A Scene Without One Creed

The phrase should be read against the book’s description of Norwegian Black Metal as a scene whose defining elements lay as much in belief and outlook as in music. It had no fixed rulebook, and its ideological boundaries shifted over time, shaped in part by prominent personalities. The record slogan was a forceful marker of identity within that changing field, not proof that all participants shared the same beliefs.

The scene’s social boundaries could nevertheless be demanding. By mid-1991, Darkthrone, Burzum, Immortal, Thorns, Enslaved, Arcturus, and later Emperor were in contact with Øystein Aarseth, who planned to release much of their music through Deathlike Silence Productions. Aarseth later called the circle of friends and acquaintances the Norwegian Black Circle when speaking to the press about the church burnings that began before the end of that year. Ihsahn recalled an earlier atmosphere around the Helvete record shop in which newcomers had to be trusted and accepted as serious in their views; the shop commanded respect, and people sought recognition from Aarseth and older scene members. Such boundaries gave declarations of identity social force, while remaining dependent on local relationships and shifting judgments.

Individual self-presentation could also change. Ihsahn recalled that when he was younger, extreme dress and conspicuous, strongly held views helped him distinguish himself and elicit a response that confirmed his identity. As he grew older and developed more rational views, he no longer felt a need to prove those beliefs or to provoke a reaction. His account cautions against treating the slogan as a timeless statement of every participant’s settled conviction: in this scene, political language could also function as a visible performance of difference.

Publicity and the Making of an Image

The slogan emerged in a setting where media exposure helped make Black Metal identities more visible and more sensational. On January 20, 1993, Bergens Tidende placed Varg Vikernes on its front page beneath a headline claiming that the fires had been lit. The article presented Vikernes’s claims of a sweeping conspiracy and his hostility toward society, while the book reads the interview as a revealing instance of his attempt to construct a public image. Two months later, Kerrang! ran a five-page feature built around a cover image of Vikernes holding crossed knives, a burning church, and Emperor posed in Corpse paint, robes, and medieval weaponry. The feature was sensational in tone and relied largely on alleged comments from Vikernes and Aarseth.

Asgar? Dyrendal’s analysis adds a distinction between media image and stable belief. He describes young people adopting shifting identities—sometimes Nazi, Satanist, Odinist, or simply evil—and argues that some learned what Satanism was supposed to look like from media and Christian accounts, then tried to imitate those stories. He also notes that the resulting public image of a large-scale assault on Christians was amplified by coverage. In a later assessment, he said that mass-media attention had given Vikernes valuable street credibility and intensified the internal contest to become the scene’s dominant personality. Against this background, Norwegian Aryan Black Metal is both a political declaration and a sign of how music, self-fashioning, and publicity could converge without making the scene ideologically uniform.