LaVey-inspired Satanism
Lords of ChaosLaVey-inspired Satanism took shape as both an organized religious current and a widely circulated cultural language. Its significance in the book lies in the distinction between LaVey’s stated opposition to conformity and Christian morality, the theatrical use of Satanic imagery by musicians, and the later tendency of media coverage to treat very different forms of rebellion and crime as evidence of one Satanic phenomenon.
LaVey and the Church of Satan
Anton LaVey founded the Church of Satan on Walpurgisnacht, April 30, 1966, after years of work as a carnival performer, police photographer, burlesque organ accompanist, and occultist. The Church’s fundamentals, as described in the book, were not simply a shallow reversal of Christian symbols. They centered on opposition to herd mentality and a Nietzschean ethic of human self-development: the individual was to be freed from Christian morality and cultivated as a god on earth. That emphasis gave LaVey’s Satanism a defined philosophical and religious identity, rather than leaving it at the level of provocation.
The organization also gained a public profile unusually quickly. LaVey’s association with the Church drew sustained media attention, helping make it familiar well beyond occult circles. That visibility matters to the concept’s history: Satanism became not only a set of stated principles but a public identity that could be encountered through press coverage, performance, and popular entertainment.
The Satanic Mass and a public language
In 1968 LaVey released a Satanic Mass LP. The recording included a Black Mass, but its purpose was not, in his account, simply to invert a Christian rite. He described it as an effort to clarify what a Satanic Mass was in contrast to a Black Mass, and as an opportunity to reach an audience when performance art had few forums. Recorded live as performed, it later circulated with support from publisher Lyle Stuart; Howard Hughes funded some of that distribution and was sympathetic to the project.
LaVey later reassessed the record as more than documentation. He recognized its visual presentation as an early example of an approach that would become familiar much later, and considered it ahead of its time in that respect. The album’s other side carried his declarations, delivered over Wagner and other bombastic music. These texts drew on essays that would become the framework of The Satanic Bible, published in 1969. The sequence—from ritual performance to written principles—helped turn a deliberately theatrical public presence into a portable body of ideas.
The book describes The Satanic Bible as the only openly Satanic manual of thought to achieve wide distribution, while noting that its influence cannot be measured precisely. Its availability nevertheless brought LaVey’s formulation into the reach of musicians exploring demonic and occult themes in their public identities, lyrics, and stage shows. Satanism thus moved through culture in more than one register: as an organized religious identity, a body of writing, and a vocabulary available for musical performance.
Influence on metal and performance
Among the musicians associated with the early development of Black Metal, King Diamond and Mercyful Fate are presented as especially direct recipients of LaVey’s influence. Diamond found The Satanic Bible in an occult bookstore and recognized in it a way of life that expressed his own feelings. He connected its ideas to the early lyrics of both King Diamond and Mercyful Fate, while emphasizing that his use of the word Satan had a particular meaning for him rather than the conventional meaning assigned by outsiders.
Mercyful Fate combined influences from Black Sabbath and Deep Purple with Diamond’s operatic singing. Its 1982 mini-album was followed by Melissa and Don’t Break the Oath, whose lyrics dealt with magical rites, broken pacts, and declarations of allegiance to Satan. Onstage, Diamond extended the music through theatrical black-and-white face paint and deliberately sinister imagery. The records and performances could look like an invitation to take blasphemy literally, but Diamond described the gruesome material as entertainment rather than religious instruction. He said he raised questions without dictating answers, and maintained that listeners should make up their own minds.
That combination of personal commitment and performance separated Diamond, in the book’s account, from musicians using Satanic imagery only as a pose. Yet his example does not make the music a simple instrument for producing violence. The discussion instead contrasts his declared LaVeyan commitments and entertainer’s role with later acts that pushed blasphemous themes further and created a more volatile public image. When Black Metal re-emerged with new force in 1990–91, the theatrical and ideological precedents were available, but they did not dictate what later musicians or listeners would do with them.
Media, criminality, and the limits of the label
The book repeatedly warns against treating Satanism as a sufficient explanation for misconduct. In June 2003, a former member of a little-known Black Metal band and younger associates desecrated a Norwegian chapel. The case dominated the news, and tabloids speculated about Satanic ritual; some commentators went so far as to urge that Black Metal be outlawed. But the former bassist had already been dismissed from his band for musical reasons and was largely ostracized from the scene. The account suggests psychological and pharmacological factors, rather than music or Satanism, were more likely contributors to his behavior.
A related distinction appears in the discussion of Norwegian Black Metal coverage in 1993. Teenagers adopted shifting identities—including Satanist, Nazi, or Odinist labels, as well as the more general posture of being evil—and some also committed assaults or attacks on property. Their actions and public statements helped produce the impression of a broad Satanic assault on Christians, prompting fear among police and church communities. The text does not deny the reality or gravity of the crimes; it shows instead how media presentation could gather disparate people and acts under a single alarming category.
The account also considers the media’s effect on status within the subculture. One observer revised his earlier view after speaking with journalists and people involved in the trial of Varg Vikernes: mass coverage had supplied Vikernes with street credibility and helped build a near-mythic public image. Attention could intensify competition to become the scene’s dominant personality. This does not make reporting the sole cause of the crimes or the scene’s internal dynamics, but it complicates any simple account in which media merely records events without shaping their meanings.
LaVey-inspired Satanism therefore functions in the book as a specific, articulated current, not a catch-all explanation for every use of Satanic symbols. Its stated opposition to conformity and Christian morality entered popular culture through the Church of Satan, LaVey’s recordings and writing, and musicians such as King Diamond. The later conflation of that current with theatrical provocation, Black Metal, and criminal acts shows how a coherent identity can become a public label broad enough to obscure important differences.