If I'm reading it right, Nergal of Behemoth is an rad individualist who feels that society's rot begins with its masses turning over their lives to somebody else's antiquated belief systems. He's also incredibly positive and sincerely hopes that each of us reaches our potential for asskickosity. And he lives his message by banging this hot-ass Polish chick.
The other awesome Metal role model who blew my reality apart this week is Decrepit Birth vocalist Bill Robinson, another mega-rebel. The awesome Angela Gossowski of MetalSucks should rush-produce a extreme Metal inspirational book based on her recent Robinson interview titled oh say A Decrepit Guide To Taking Your Life Back with little footprints on the jacket. Centered on undecorated white pages:
I don’t want to work, and I don’t want to pay money to sleep.My job is to grow herb for a living.We’re not in the States. We live in a country called “California” [laughs].I live where I live, I just don’t live in a house. I live outside year round – snow, rain, whatever.[I have a bank account] only so I can cash checks. I don’t keep anything in there because they don’t need to know what I have.Life is pretty good. I don’t think we struggle too much. [Decrepit Birth guitarist] Matt Sotelo's dad died. [The lyrics he writes] really reflect a lot of the personal stuff for him. For me, I do hallucinogens a lot, so there’s some influence for me right there.
Again, I could be wrong but the Robinson way represents an equally defiant but more cynical view than that of Nergal; Robinson has made himself nearly invisible to society. So that implies he doesn't want to save it. Shit that's not logically true. It implies either that to him shit is too fucked to fix orrrrrr wait for it ... that ... the solution to society's ills is each of us retreating to a solitary field to grow/smoke tons of pot and only emerge occasionally to front death metal bands. Or something. And he's cool with your lame haircut, too! Seriously Bill call me or give me your coordinates or whatever cuz I'm tense, dude. Teach me the way; I'll be Steve Martin and you're Michael Caine like in that movie and we'll compete for the purse and poonanny of Glenne Headly. Scratch that last part.