Erik Danielsson, vocalist and bassist for Swedish black metal group Watain, was turned on to black metal through a tape of Darkthrone’s Under a Funeral Moon and never looked back. Since its formation in 1998, Watain has proven itself to be a live maelstrom. Saturday night, Austin metalheads finally got to witness Watain’s live power. Its blend of Mayhem’s fury and contempt for life and Dissection’s approach to melody whipped the audience into a frenzy. Though Danielsson was pleased by the Texas crowds, he also loves some Southern mythology.
“I thought [the Texas shows] would be a bit more violent,” he said.
In terms of all-out chaos, Danielsson was particularly impressed by Mexico City and Chile.
“They’re far away from Europe and USA in terms of aggressive and fucking die-hard people,” he said. “You have them everywhere. They’re just spread out all over.”
Metal music is less popular outside of Europe due to religious, social and/or political oppression, as well as a simple lack of commercial opportunities. Many fans see Europe as the metal mecca, but Danielsson does not share their view. He “like[s] to be the enemy” and thrives on intolerance.
“People in Europe accept because they haven’t understood it,” Danielsson said. “In the USA, at least, you have opposition in terms of Christians and moral and ethical people in general that understood that black is a threat — the energies that come out of the speakers, that come out especially when we perform live, they are dangerous.”
The most controversial aspect about Watain’s live show is not the music but the literal smell of death. Impaled animal heads emit a god-awful yet totally appropriate stench of rotting. Candles placed on spears brought the sense of an occult ritual, not a mere concert. Combined with the music, Watain’s performances brought the Red-7 crowd closer to total self-destruction. In a town known for perceived animal friendliness and overall liberal social attitudes, Watain certainly disrupted the norm. In fact, a gig was canceled in Canada because of this setup.
“We were killing animals outside the venue because we didn’t have any blood, and [the venue owners] didn’t like that so much because they were vegan, so fuck them,” Danielsson said.
The stage show and music are smaller aspects of Danielsson’s views on the material and spiritual worlds.
“Mankind, the minute he is born, is placed in a prison,” he said. “Outside the prison walls lies our true home, which is completely void of all the law and order, all human ethical and moral codes, laws of times and space. It is a fiery, deadly, chaotic place filled with energy and power from which mankind has been set aside, trapped inside what we called existence. What we’re doing with Watain is to communicate with a force that lies beyond the barriers of comprehension.”
Watain played a little under an hour, but with its uncompromising approach to music, the stage and life, its set felt much shorter. A potent live band should leave its audience wanting more. Watain did this, thanks to its conviction in more than just sound.





