The Good Column | Wrrooouumm – Doom Metal doesn’t lie!

Balancing barking and grumbling, balancing world disgust and aggression: Pentagramm singer Bobby Favoriten at a live performance. Photo: Image/Gonzales Photo Boom, rumms, srruuumm, wrrooouumm, thump! It's a completely satisfying, massive sound that comes out of the speakers. And he's loud. To untrained listeners, it may sound as if the sum of the noises produced by a serious rear-end collision on the highway were lovingly arranged, sensitively rhythmized and then played back in slow motion. And this is how it is sung: Grudge, grunt, grumble, ghuorrgll, urrggghh! The person responsible for singing on stage must be a virtuoso, although it may not always be possible to accentuate the lyrics 100% clearly.

The songs performed essentially revolve around the diverse uses of brute force, around revenge, war, apocalypse, the end of the world, so they are essentially intended to be an inventory of current world events. As in the theater, the singing person doesn't necessarily have to spell out every "fear", every "violent" and every "blood". The fact that it's about fear, violence and blood is conveyed to the audience primarily thanks to the guttural singing technique and vocal expression: the singer literally has to force the words out of themselves with great effort.

Thomas Blum fundamentally disagrees with the prevailing so-called reality. He won't be able to change her for the time being, but he can reprimand her, admonish her or, if necessary, give her a beating. So that the bad retreats. We stand in solidarity with his fight against reality. Therefore, from now on, “The Good Column” will appear here on Mondays. Only the best quality for the best readers! The collected texts can be found at: dasnd.de/diegute

You have to imagine it like this: the words come out of the mouth as if the vomiting reflex were being triggered continuously (without having to stick your finger down your throat first): the singer's diaphragm and abdominal muscles suddenly contract and the mouth opens. Except - instead of the stomach contents, as usual - words are transported out. This usually takes the form of a mixture of barking and grunting, but the right amount of growling and grumbling must also be finely balanced. The singing has to walk a very fine line, so to speak, between disgust for the world and aggression. Then it sounds exactly right.

Doom metal doesn't lie. He confronts you with the depressing reality: birth, work, misery, illness, pain, death.

If you've read this far, you'll notice: a few days ago wasn't my first time at a doom metal concert. My hearing is trained. Doom metal concerts relax me and make my inner restlessness subside. Given the current world situation, others turn to beer, a joint, a box of Valium, sweets or their valerian drops after getting up in the morning or after work to calm themselves down. On the other hand, I am soothed by the dull, heavy beat of the bass drum, which feels like the slowing heartbeat of the world that is gradually coming to an end, and the guitar chord that gradually fades into nothingness, which, if you will, acoustically imitates the slow death of one's own aging body.

Doom metal doesn't lie. He confronts you with the depressing reality: birth, work, misery, illness, pain, death. Those who are lucky will not have to experience any serious acts of violence or war in the course of their existence on earth. The reason why this music has such a calming effect on the nerves is this: Anyone who is smart enough to anticipate the worst now can no longer be surprised and shocked by the horror that will occur in the future.

Doom Metal can therefore be seen as the musical antithesis to the all-too-uncompromisingly life-affirming entertainment, pop and beer tent music, which not only produces rapture in its listeners, but above all approval and agreement with the existing horror (work, misery, illness, pain, Ulf Poschardt): agreement until the bitter end. Consent to this kind of life, even if the life isn't living at all. Polonaise dancing straight into the apocalypse with the feel-good party hat. Waiter, please have two more beers and bratwurst before the start of the world war, but pronto!

If you try to avoid this, you'll inevitably find yourself regularly in the audience at doom metal concerts at some point. Only: In this case, sooner or later you will be overcome by the urgent need to have your upper body tattooed with skulls and grim reaper figures and to wear band T-shirts with illegible lettering that spread like a rhizome across the entire front of the shirt. Or, at worst, grow one of those medieval-looking silly braided beards held together with hair ties. Or you suddenly develop a questionable preference for sleeveless denim jackets.

But that's the way it is: everything sincere, liberating and relaxing ultimately also has disadvantages, at least of an aesthetic nature. Nevertheless, I'm not sure whether in a better future attending doom metal concerts shouldn't be mandatory for all citizens of this country.

One thing is certain: a scientific study by the University of Queensland in 2015 showed that doom metal - contrary to popular prejudices - does not make listeners more aggressive, but often calms them down and stabilizes their pulse and heart rate, i.e. has the same effect as a loving hug.

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