Metalion

Metalion emerges as a knowledgeable but wary observer of the Norwegian Black Metal scene: close enough to be questioned after Øystein Aarseth’s murder and to describe its internal tensions, yet unwilling to claim certainty where he had none. His testimony traces the distance between being caught up in the scene’s events and understanding them, and between its public image and the less theatrical commitments of some of its participants.

Identity and Place in the Scene

The book places Metalion among the people consulted to reconstruct the murder and its context. He had known Aarseth, but says they had not spoken for some time before the killing and that things had been quiet. The sudden news therefore surprised him. He did not immediately suspect Varg Vikernes, and recalls that it took a long time for him to understand what had happened. His account is not that of someone who anticipated the violence or possessed an inside explanation from the outset; its force lies partly in that stated uncertainty.

Metalion also appears as a source on the scene’s musical and cultural influences. In discussing the adoption of Viking imagery and an ostensibly barbaric outlook, the book notes that Heavy Load, an earlier Swedish metal band whose music celebrated Viking religion and life, may have influenced younger musicians. Metalion is cited among people close to the scene who spoke appreciatively of the group. This is a modest but revealing detail: his perspective extends beyond the most publicized rivalries to the longer musical background from which some of the scene’s imagery drew.

The Murder and Its Immediate Aftermath

In the days after Aarseth was killed, police interviewed people connected to Black Metal. Metalion says a police officer came to his home, that he was taken in for questioning, and that officers searched his belongings. The investigation brought the scene’s disputes into direct contact with police scrutiny; for Metalion, this was not an abstract crisis but a sudden intrusion into his own home and affairs.

After the search, he wrote to Varg Vikernes to tell him that the police had come and complained about their conduct. Vikernes responded supportively and advised him not to tell the police anything. Metalion presents this exchange as part of why he remained confused: at the time, he did not know who had killed Aarseth. The letter and reply do not establish that he knew of the crime or understood Vikernes’s role. Instead, they preserve a moment when Metalion was still interpreting events through the relationships and suspicions of the scene, before his understanding caught up with the investigation.

That distinction matters against the atmosphere of mutual suspicion described in the book. Norwegian and Swedish Black Metal circles had competed for standing, and the initial reaction of many people was to suspect the Swedes. Vikernes reportedly attributed the murder to Swedish pseudo-Satanists, while other testimony pointed toward a rival seeking Aarseth’s position. Metalion’s recollection offers no confirmation of either explanation. It records his uncertainty rather than retroactively making him a knowing witness.

Motives and the Material Dispute

Metalion rejects the idea that killing Aarseth could straightforwardly make Vikernes the scene’s new king. In his view, that was too primitive an account of what such an act would accomplish: a murder would not make everyone forget the person who had been killed. He suspects the motive involved something beyond a simple contest for leadership. His skepticism does not mean that he denies the conflict between the two men. Rather, he distinguishes the existence of a power struggle from the claim that it adequately explains the killing.

He gives particular weight to the financial dispute. According to Metalion, Aarseth owed Vikernes royalties from the first two Burzum albums released through Deathlike Silence Productions, and Vikernes may not have received them. He also says Vikernes’s mother paid for the studio recording of the first album and was owed money in return; Metalion did not think that debt was ever repaid. In his account, the label’s poor business management and lack of cash help explain how the obligations accumulated, without removing their significance to the men involved.

The strain was not limited to a single unpaid royalty. Metalion connects the final recordings for a Mayhem album with the worsening financial relationship between Vikernes and Aarseth, describing those matters together as what began and ended their association. Aarseth, he says, referred indirectly to problems with elements in the Norwegian scene without naming Vikernes. Vikernes, for his part, wanted to move to another label, such as Candlelight or Earache. These details give the rivalry a concrete economic setting: money owed, recording expenses, and a possible change of label formed part of the pressure between two prominent figures. Metalion’s evidence supplies context, not a definitive verdict on motive.

Satanism, Image, and Practice

Metalion’s observations on Satanism follow the same refusal to confuse a scene’s public language with every participant’s private commitments. He regards Satanism as generally limited to flirtation with occult symbols and use as a lyrical concept, rather than a central practice shared throughout Black Metal. In his assessment, only a few musicians were deeply involved in what he calls the Black Arts, though those few could exist within influential bands and therefore shape the scene’s image.

He also distinguishes musicians from other people around the scene. Metalion says he had met people who practiced rituals and were deeply involved in Black Metal, but who were not necessarily band members. That observation complicates any simple equation between stage persona, lyrics, and personal belief: ritual involvement existed, in his account, but did not map neatly onto musicianship, and the prevalence of Satanic imagery did not prove widespread religious commitment.

Narrative Role and Significance

Across these recollections, Metalion serves as a counterweight to explanations that turn a complicated scene into a single story of rivalry or ideology. His account of the police search preserves his initial lack of knowledge; his comments on the murder separate a real struggle for influence from an overly simple explanation of its motive; and his discussion of Satanism separates symbolic performance from committed practice. He is neither presented as an omniscient witness nor as an outsider. His value to the narrative is precisely this bounded perspective: close to the scene, attentive to its material disputes, and careful about what its evidence can establish.