Interview with Nattefrost & Kvelertak

Last weekend I went on a metal pilgrimage to Norway, he's the first part of many posts from that trip. Watch out for interviews with Appollyon of Aura Noir, Sindre of Nekromantheon and some pics from Fenriz's house...

I got a bit of a surprise when I arrived at Øya Festival. I met with Marvin of Kvelertak (who subsequently had high blood pressure and had to go to hosptial after their show) and he informed me that they were going to be joined onstage by none other than Carpathian Forest frontman “Hellcommander” Nattefrost. Obviously I was psyched to interview them. You may know Nattefrost from his appearance on the cover of Vice Books’ Peter Beste publication, True Norwegian Black Metal, or from those t-shirts with the distended anus on the back. Anyways, I caught up with them after their show, which was high octane stuff (Kvelertak are kind of to black metal what the Gallows are to hardcore, if you know what I mean). Anyways, here’s what they and “Satan’s Terrorist” had to say.

Vice: So, how did you get involved with these guys?

Nattefrost: You know my bands from before?

I certainly do.

N: Yeah, cool. No, through a friend they contacted me, wanted to see if I could try out a few songs, which I’m normally sceptical about because I don’t like working with other bands too much. Well anyway, when I saw the lyrics and heard the music was a mixture of many styles, I was sold.

How does it feel to have Nattefrost on your side?

Marvin: It was a dream come true, ha ha ha. I’ve been a fan for a long time.

From Carpathian Forest through to his solo stuff?

M: I love Carpathian Forest and Nattefrost. I’m very happy I got the opportunity to work with him.

N: I remember meeting them before going to the studio, I wasn’t sure if I was the right man for the band. In so many cases if you do backing vocals for a band it doesn’t give you shit back because there has to be something there. One thing would help: if I could write their lyrics. But they did a great job so I didn’t have to think about it, ha ha.

So you didn’t have to tone it down to work with these guys?

N: No, no, no. I remember I was holding some notes and I fucking passed out in the studio, ha ha.

Oh yeah, you guys told me about this yesterday. Wanna run through it again?

M: He came to the studio and we gave him a bottle of whiskey, 15 minutes later he’d drunk the whole thing and passed out during a recording session. So one of the screams you’re hearing in the songs is actually him falling over and passing out, ha ha ha.

So that’s all on record, yeah?

M: Yep, that’s on the track “Fossegrim”.

How many tracks on your record is he featured on?

M: It’s only for promotional use, we’re definitely gonna use him when we record our record.

So just two promos so far?

M: Yeah, we’re talking to some record companies now, we should have a deal worked out in like a month or something; we’re negotiating right now. The plan is to get the record out as soon as possible. We’re hoping for a release early next year.

Will it be in a similar vein to the tracks you played out today?

M: That’s basically the record we played today, what’s going to be the record.

Were you surprised to play at Oya Festival, considering that you’re unsigned?

M: We played a small festival that mainly showcases new bands – a bit like SXSW but in Norway. We played there and the ball started to roll from there. Then we got booked for the Roskilde Festival – things kinda started there.

How long have you guys been together?

M: Well, I’ve only been in the band for two months, I just replaced the old guitar player, but the band’s been going for about a year.

Quite big turning it round in a year, playing one of the bigger stages here at Oya?

M: Yeah sure, I mean, we don’t even have a record yet as we’re unsigned.

People were loving you though, huh?

M: Yeah, we’re stoked.

All types of people too, it was a really mixed crowd – kids, etc.

M: We were a bit nervous about that, but hey, you gotta catch them early, ha ha ha.

How’ve you found Oya Festival?

M: I saw Aura Noir, just saw the second half, but it was great. Ulver were really good on Wednesday. I actually saw the Bronx.

How about you, Nattefrost? You’re a busy guy these days, I hear you’ve got a new album coming out?

N: Yeah.

More “Terrorism“?

N: “Nekronaut Pt. II” was the last part of that.

On Engangsgrill?

N: Yeah.

I love that record, I especially like the track that starts with the shotgun being loaded followed by the acoustic guitar/campfire vibes.

N: [At this point he goes off on some weird tangent. I think we're possibly not talking about the same track.] You know what that song is about? I am making fun of everyone in Carpathian Forest, telling them how fucking gay they all are – that the drummer has an extra Adam’s apple, the guitarist is really into fucking golden retrievers, and Salte, he… fucks… ugly… cunts.

Ha ha ha. Funnily enough, a friend of mine is obsessed with jacking off to porn and listening to your music. What do you have to tell him?

N: Yeah? I think it’s very respectful, er, but he must be very single and it must be like escapism from World Of Warcraft or your other boring world.

Ha ha ha. Okay, that’s about it. Anything to add?

N: More fellatio.

Watch Blue Velvet, Wild At Heart, Lost Highway & Hotel Room

Maybe Lynch's three greatest movies. Wild At Heart will always be my favourite, the car crash scene with Sherilyn Fenn is easily the hottest thing of all time. Well, it challenges Salma Hayek's snakedance in From Dusk Till Dawn anyways. Oh, and Powermad are in it too...

Blue Velvet (1986) David Lynch (USA)

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Wild At Heart (1990) David Lynch (USA)

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Lost Highway (1997) David Lynch (USA)

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Also, I only recently got acquainted with a HBO show Mr. Lynch did after Twin Peaks called Hotel Room, it ran for 3 episodes, Lynch directing both the first and third installment. To be honest they're pretty weird 30 min short stories, the last featuring Crispin Glover and an enchanting Alicia Witt being my favourite.

David Lynch's Hotel Room (1993) David Lynch (USA)

Here is a link to Hotel Room in 8 RapidShare parts.

Blue Jeans Festival '96

Illustrations by Ted Pearce

It was the summer of 1996 and me and some mates decided to head to the Blue Jeans festival in Athboy, County Meath. As we weren’t quite eighteen yet and considering how difficult it was to acquire alcohol underage, the only option was to buy speed.

Well on this particular occasion I had a pretty good hook up and said I’d sort out some mates. As usual it was fucking long and when he came through he was like, ‘Sorry buddy, no speed, here’s some E’s’. They didn’t want pills. But, fearing I’d look a total dickhead, I handed over the cash and thought, fuck it, I’ll work something out.

Some of my mates hadn’t even done pills yet and they would have been adverse to the idea so I thought, fuck it, they’ll never know the difference. So I went about crushing up all the pills in mixing them evenly with some tasteless white tablets I’d found in my house and dispensed the mix into wraps. I was now officially going to spike all my mates. Well done. Anyway we took the specially arranged bus out to Athboy from Navan with all our mates, most knocking back two litres of Magners and asking of the whereabouts of their speed.

I knew a few people on the bus would want a bit, taste the mix and notice the difference either making me look like a cunt or giving the dude I got the ’speed’ off a bad rep. So I said I was meeting him in Athboy. When we got there I said I had to meet him on the edge of town, so I took my mate Stumpy with me. He was going to keep the dick whilst I sorted all the speed.

I told him what was going on and when we got out of eyesight of everyone we went up this alleyway between housing estates. I began taking the wraps out of my socks when this massive Garda, a real pig looking one too, came up behind me and was all, ‘What’s going on here lads?’. in that typical condescending cop tone. Fuck. I wanted to kill Stumpy. There was no escaping this one. Anyways he led us to the cop car, no cuffs, and all I could imagine was court, judges and my dad’s disappointment/furious anger. Fuck this.

He told me to stand on one side of the car while he put Stumpy in the door on the far side of the car. Again I could feel the impending rage of my father and I just began running. The Gard was a little hesitant before chasing after me and just shouted, ‘Come back! You’re only making it worse!’, I just kept running I didn’t really look back. He was in his mid to late forties and pretty overweight. He’d never catch me. However as this was the edge of town in the middle of nowhere there was going to be a lot of running. And there was a new estate being erected too so he was chasing me through the foundations of a soon to be housing estate.

I can remember clearing a massive trench and after that looked back and he’d given up. This would’ve been amazing news could I have gotten back to Navan somehow but I couldn’t. There is no public transport in rural Ireland. Coupled with the fact I was too freaked out to walk the road fearing there’d be a car out looking for me. Separating Athboy and Navan was pure bogland. And I’d just come out in some new Air Max’s. Predominantly white ones. Possibly white 501’s too, it was ‘96.

I just remembered as he hadn’t searched me I still had a bunch of shit on me so I decided to just do the whole lot in one drop which was about two pills, maybe more. Anyway long story short I managed to trudge through fields of quagmire, bog, sheep, cows all fucking sorts and by the time I got near Navan, it was dark. I was completely wired to the moon the whole way through this ordeal too, stopping occasionally to talk to cows and the local wildlife.

When I plucked up the courage to go back on the road, the minute I stumbled over the field gate a car pulled up almost instantaneously, the lights blinding me in the process. They were Navan Gards and were asking about a local robbery at a house and judging by the state of me decided I was the culprit. I fed them some line about having just split with my girlfriend and I was out having a walk to clear my head. They bought it rather easily and drove me back into town. I only then thought, fuck, what happened to Stumpy? Well, as soon as the Gard started chasing after me it occurred to him to do the same, however his only escape was into the town which was full of police due to the Blue Jeans festival, but he went to a junior disco, as they were so called, swapped clothes, borrowed a hat and headed back later that night on the bus we came out on. I learned fuck all from this episode other than always run from the police and never rip off your mates. Which is something I guess.

A Fist In The Face Of God presents... Fenriz a.k.a. DJ V.K.O.M—Trapped Under Vice, Vol. I

Back when I started doing my weekly blog for Vice at the beginning of the year I really wanted to interview Darkthrone's Fenriz for it, the reasons are pretty obvious, but he declined stating a rigorous interviewing schedule that he had just finished. I was a little bummed out but we kept in contact and he would tip me off on so many bands I would never have heard of without his vast knowledge of music. Anyway, I then tried to get him to DJ to no avail. When I heard the Actual Pain mixtape I was naturally lost for words and asked him if there was any possibility he could do one for Vice. No problem he said. He would love to. And here it is. Intro from the man himself...

First words. I started the comp by thinking of some acts that should definitely be on there. Then I mulled it over for a week. I then sat down to structure it, and I had several darlings to kill and new ones to include. I am not making a ONE STYLE comp here, like 'occult thrash' or something. I chose numbers mostly from bands that are/were old and rough and soulfully sounding, but thrash is one of the most intense genres, so it sort of HAS TO be varied, WHEN I MAKE 78+ minutes here!

I was thinking of dropping 3 of the songs to make it more like a hit parade, but one needs some ups and downs in life ha ha. Better to leave the mix untampered with.

So...it is sort of a whole labyrinth of songs, a world to get lost in.

I also start with two tracks that has really underground sound, so I will lose all posers that try to listen to the mix.

TRACK LISTING for the "TRAPPED UNDER VICE" PART ONE. Fenriz (a.k.a. DJ V.K.O.M.) mix of black thrashing death

01. Necrovore (USA) 'Mutilated Death' (1987)
02. Mental Decay (Denmark) 'Eat the Posers Guts' (1987)
03. Pentagram (Chile) 'Profaner' (1987)
04. Necrodeath (Italy) 'Agony/Flag of the Inverted Cross' (1987)
05. Morbid (Sweden) 'Wings of Funeral' (1987)
06. Poison (Germany) 'Yog-Sothoth' (1987)
07. Devastation (USA) 'Devastation' (1987)
08. Merciless (Sweden) 'The Awakening' (1989)
09. Minotaur (Germany) 'Fall of the Gods' (1988)
10. Mutilated (France) 'Funerarium' (1988)
11. Deathhammer (Norway) 'Toxic Radiation' (2008)
12. Obliveon (Canada) 'Whimsical Uproar' (1987)
13. Obscurity (Sweden) 'Demented' (1987)
14. Morbid Saint (USA) 'Beyond the Gates of Hell' (1988)
15. Vulcano (Brazil) 'Guerreiros de Sata' (2003)
16. Whiplash (USA) 'The Burning of Atlanta' (1985)
17. Infernö (Norway) 'Thrash Metal Dogs of Hell' (2004)
18. Aura Noir (Norway) Iron Night/Torment Storm' (2008)

DOWNLOAD [MIXED/320]

DOWNLOAD [TRACKED/192] 

Thanks again to Fenriz for everything, and also to Peter Beste for allowing me to butcher his fine photography for the cover. Enjoy!

Interview with Zhema Rodero of Vulcano

Back in March, when we were trying to get some stories together for the VICE Brazil Issue, I thought a feature on Brazil's golden age of metal would make an interesting feature. I contacted every legendary 80s Brazilian black/death/thrash band I could think of, with a view to some interviews. I got email addresses from the official sites, went through their official MySpaces, and even emailed a university in Belo Horizonte, as Sarcófago's Wagner Lamounier is a professor of economic science there. But it was all for shit. Either they didn't speak English, didn't get the email, or thought I was a waste of time. One dark hero, Vulcano's Zhema Rodero, did finally respond though, and I got as far as sending him a list of questions (back in April), but he disappeared again and never replied. Until last night. 

AFITFOG: Firstly, I'm interested in finding out Vulcano's origins. How did you guys all meet?
Zhema Rodero: Like all the bands rising (at the time), I studied in the same school together with Paulo Magrão (Vulcano's original guitarist) and we played some rock songs on guitar. Around '78/'79 we formed Astharot, and some years after, Vulcano. In the beginning we played a raw hard rock style, trying to do something like Motörhead, but our singer and equipment just weren't good enough to do that. In '84, the vocalist Angel joined the band, so we became more dirty and brutal with our Brazilian heavy metal.

How were you guys received by the Brazilian media and public?
In '83 we released our first record, a 7" single, and we were totally underground – nobody knew about us. In those times there were big Brazilian rock bands belonging to the massive record companies. Vulcano were a little band. In the end of 1983, a famous Brazilian reporter wrote a review about us in the Brazilian Dictionary of Rock, so Vulcano became more well known in the scene.

When you released Bloody Vengeance, it was pretty unique for its time. What were you guys influenced by?
I do not know exactly, but I venture to say that it was a combination of factors, between the style of play of Lauder (drummer), Flavio (guitarist), and my compositions. I have my way of writing songs, which is well embedded in the style of them.

Was there a big scene in Brazil in the mid '80s or was it underground? Were you, MX, Mutilator, Sarcófago, and Sepultura all friends?
Yeah! There was a strong scene here in Brazil, even though we were all underground. We were all friends because we were always playing together or watching other bands play festivals. Most bands of that time never did anything outside of Brazil. There are few who had a small reputation, Vulcano were one.

How did you feel about what happened to thrash metal towards the end of the '80s/early '90s?
I know that was a very important moment for the metal. Today, the metal is a style and will live forever in the history of music in the world. I’m proud to have participated at that time.

What did you make of the Norwegian black metal scene that hailed all those Brazilian bands as massive influences?
It's hard to explain, because when the Brazilian scene was born, the social politics imposed by government was very different. Here in Brazil we revolted against that situation so it was one of the reasons why we put more rage in our songs.

Where do you see the sound going from now?
I think the sound of Vulcano will become anachronistic because I don't like to put modern elements into the music that I do. I do a song primarily to please myself and I am an old guy, so my song will sound old. I would like to finish by saying that Vulcano are finishing their newest album and it's called Five Skulls And One Chalice. We are doing the mix, and if all goes well Cogumelo Records will release it next November.

Thank you for the opportunity to answer these interesting questions and keep banging !!!!!!!!

Indeed we shall and thank you Zhema.

Fucked by the Living Dead

Braindead (1992) Peter Jackson (New Zealand)

The most thrash movie ever? I like how Jackson went from making thrash movies to more black metal pictures like Lord of the Rings hahahaha

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Fuck Off Heatwave

Man, I am guessing by now everyone has noticed how retardedly hot its been of late. Like, what the fuck really, it's so fucking hot right now and its almost midnite. I've been trying to write this post all nite and I was so hot I just couldn't think straight enough to actually sit down and type. I haven't been away in years but I just remembered why. Why spend a bunch of cash to go to a hot country? To get hot and agitated? No thanks. I'm thinking of going to Ireland to get AWAY from the heat.

A shop I once worked at had this fucked up air-con that basically kept the shop horribly warm and germ ridden in the winter with its wafting and in the summer it always broke down when it got anywhere near like 25º, which was usually in the morning. Then it would get real busy and super hot in the afternoon and I remember I used to get this weird repetitive thought pattern where I'd keep daydreaming of being even hotter than I was (we demanded a thermometer to equate how hot it actually was - it was regularly 35º). It usually involved me wearing three shirts, two hoodies, a big jacket, hat, gloves, two pairs of socks like EVERYTHING. Anyway then I'd imagine being so hot I'd like spontaneously combust on the shopfloor all over a pair of Puma Mostro's and their future owners. But in reality I was ignoring annoying Italian women's request for a size, 'half past forty one', in said Puma monstrosity.

The one main thing that annoys me about the heat is I find it fucking hard to get high. I mean, I smoke weed and its consistently good weed but it's so hot it just doesn't last or something. Like I get stoned after a bong rip or two and then half an hour later its looking back at me all forlorn and wanting it again. More on that bong soon. So earlier I tired to combat the heat/weed dilemma by going for a zoot in the park as the sun was going down. I almost got cold and was pretty lean whilst I was there in the shade but that was about it. I guess it's because in the heat you want refreshment and weed is even less refreshing than a pint of tahini drunk from a sand goblet.

You know what is refreshing though? EVIAN. Yes, I am talking about that water again. Yesterday I finally found a stockist for glass bottles of my favourite tipple and you know what? It was rather anti-climactic for want of a worse phrase. It tasted different. Not as 'creamy' as regular plastic bottled Evian. Who would've thought. Wait a sec, maybe if somebody grew a strain of weed that was 'engineered' with Evian all my problems could be over? That's it, that's the one. G13 'Evian' please if you're reading cultivators...

Electric Eyes Are Everyhwere...

Yesterday really sucked, it was almost as if I was not reading the script or something, fucking the future if you will. First off I managed to somehow lose £20 (always a kick in the bollocks) by not taking my money OUT of the fucking ATM outside Tesco on Well Street. It was as if I blacked out for like 20 seconds and when I returned there was only the deserted advice slip, swinging lamely in the light breeze. I can remember putting in my PIN etc. and then I was next to my bike putting my card back in wallet sans cash. Pissed off and agitated, I went home and cooked the shit up I'd just bought and while I was on the fone to the bank to see if I wasn't a complete dickhead, I burned the whole pot of rice that was cooking to accompany my chicken in black bean sauce. I walked into the kitchen thinking my whole fucking culinary workshop had engulfed itself in flames, luckily it hadn't. It was one of those evenings where everything was gonna go wrong, so I thought it best to just stay in and stay out of trouble. I had downloaded some movies so I went upstairs and attempted to watch them (Tron and Gus Van Sant's To Die For, I am really running out of movies, yes), but both required passwords. And my internet was down so not only could I not get the fucking passwords for these two cinematic orgasms but I couldn't even go online and watch some fucking South Park.

Fuck it, time to get high. Had a bong of some 'sharks breath' (seriously guys, these names are retarded), felt real good man. Then, the fucking glazed cherry on my shit-covered-in-cum sundae of an evening; I get a message saying Michael Jackson just died. What. The. Fuck. And I didn't even have the internet to find out if it was actually for real. Well, it was, well done BlackBerry. It was as if all the evenings retardedness had culminated in the death of the King of Pop. Fuck. This is the kind of shit that started Michael Douglas off in Falling Down.

It was an odd mix of feelings really, I mean I fucking LOVED the first three MJ albums as a young Rockwellian but I dunno, what was the last thing he did really? I mean, aside from turning up dressed like Captain Crunch to court on charges of pederasty. Not much really. Did you buy a ticket to his London o2 shows? Of course you didn't. Did you even think 'oh fuck, all the tickets are sold out, man, I gotta get some on eBay'? Nope. The reason? Well, for me anyway it was because Michael Jackson was already dead in a way. I mean guy used to be BLACK. Michael Jackson was black and then he was white. I'm sorry, but all the plastic surgery shit was pretty fucking weird, yes, but changing your ethnic appearance?!? That is beyond fucked up. I think I was pretending it wasn't him all along so his passing is a little easier indeed. Still, had the shows been amazing then I guess it would've sucked to not have a ticket but I guess now we'll never know.

Rest in peace Mike, you deserve it. By the way, in case it passed you by, Farrah Fawcett died yesterday too...

Back to the Fucking Future

Okay. So it seems that there are still some people in this world that haven't seen the Back to the Future trilogy. I have no idea what goes on in people's minds that haven't seen the wonders of the Flux Capacitor in all its glory. The first installment is maybe the greatest movie ever, part two is equally as good and features THE FUTURE, whilst three well, I remember seeing it in the cinema as a lad and it had always been a slight disappointment. But still, if you've been following my blog you'll know I LOVE Back to the Future, and if Zak Efron thinks he is getting a hold of the franchise to ruin it like Spielberg allowed with that stupid Indy flick and the sub-par Star Wars flicks then unfortunately, I will declare war. You have been warned Dry School Musical fag...

Back to the Future (1985) Robert Zemeckis (USA)

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Back to the Future Pt.II (1989) Robert Zemeckis (USA)

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Back to the Future Pt.III (1990) Robert Zemeckis (USA)

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All files are just under 400MB

Theodor Kittelsen

When night falls
She cloaks the world
In impenetrable darkness
A chill rises
From the soil
And contaminates the air
Suddenly...
Life has new meaning

Fortune Cookies Still Rule

So my local Chinese, Wu on Homerton High Street, Hackney, has taken Chinese takeaway back to Bateman-esque 80s standards and compliments each delivery with fortune cookies. So what, I hear you say, fortune cookies are just baby snacks repackaged for retarded Westerners who think they're getting a tip from their soothsaying Oriental friends. Right and wrong. I'm gonna break down what I received in said prophetic apres dinner snacks recently...



These five are basically classic existential confirming messages of positivity that really could be applied to anyone with a head, however they also illustrate quite clearly that currently, you suck a little bit. It does kinda make you feel like the happy-go-lucky guy you always wanted to be. Like Tom Hanks in Big except without actually being Tom Hanks. Actually it's not really anything like that at all is it, they're really just pieces of paper with random messages on them



Hmmm, really? At what, my dad's taxi rank reunion? Shit, I'm really not sure about this one but yeah, go on, I'll take it



Hmmm, I will be going on a cruise. I really, really don't want to though? Maybe this one is for old people or something, I guess there is an old peoples home near my house. Maybe if you gave this to an old person they'd get all happy and full of promise for their impending cruise until they fall over outside Tesco with all their shopping, break their hip (again) and die. Fuck going on a cruise then...



This is my pièce de résistance. This is as good as it gets. This is like when you buy weed and not only is it slightly better than expected, homeboy you just bought it off just topped you up because he made you wait so long. I'm taking this one to the grave with me, where I will rest my head in eternal sleep, a hero for infinity

Air Jordan's 1986-1998

Jordan I






Jordan II




Jordan III






Jordan IV




Jordan V




Jordan VI






Jordan VII






Jordan VIII




Jordan IX


Jordan X




Jordan XI






Jordan XII




Jordan XIII