It’s been over a year since I stumbled upon a website that announced my favourite vocalist was dead. In August of 2006, Jon Nödtveidt, front man and founder of the black/death metal band Dissection, shot himself in his home, causing as much controversy and as many rumours as he had during his life. It wasn’t that his suicide was a surprise—to the contrary, Jon had not only been contemplating it but announcing it for years. No, the speculation swirled more around what he had surrounded himself with as he pulled the trigger, and how many Satanic Bibles he used as headrests as the bullet pierced his brain.
Jon had recently been released from jail, and his band, always a force to be reckoned with in the 90’s, had just released an album (Reinkaos). But the album was a terrible failure in the eyes of most Dissection fans, and I joked that it was the result of the horrible reviews that further motivated him to kick his own bucket.
Whether it was the intense belief he had in his religion of “anti-cosmos based Satanism” or simply that his raging river of creativity had run dry was not really that important. In his hay-day, Jon had inspired many a musician, myself included. “The Somberlain” and “Storm of the Light’s Bane” will always be hailed as classic albums, and the world of metal has him to thank for them.
In late 2004, I had a chance to meet Jon in London, and witness the unholy gory-glory that was Dissection, (before the release of “Reinkaos”). A friend of mine had set up an interview with the guitarist/vocalist, and I was happier than a Viking at a pillaging to go along with him.
Jon was fresh from jail, and obviously happy to be free. The fact that he had been convicted of accessory to murder did not cross my mind as I sat myself next to the Swede; he was my musical icon, but not my god—sharing a certain aspect of my life with someone else does not connect me completely to his ideals. Besides, Jon came across as a well-spoken, highly intelligent man who spoke passionately about his music and beliefs, not an enraged killer, and the show that followed was the best concert I have ever seen.
The experience caused me to wonder about his evil reputation, and how, in general, a person can truly be evil if they inspire such great joy in others. Does an evil man create “evil joy” to prosper in the souls of those that appreciate him? I thought it strange that a man with such supposedly misanthropic views would choose to sit down for an hour-long interview, and then shake hands and sign autographs after his concert—shouldn’t he have sacrificed us instead?
But regardless of his motives for suicide, or his jail-term, Jon Nödtveidt left behind a musical legacy that instigate further head banging for many years to come…well, his first two albums, anyways.
Jon had recently been released from jail, and his band, always a force to be reckoned with in the 90’s, had just released an album (Reinkaos). But the album was a terrible failure in the eyes of most Dissection fans, and I joked that it was the result of the horrible reviews that further motivated him to kick his own bucket.
Whether it was the intense belief he had in his religion of “anti-cosmos based Satanism” or simply that his raging river of creativity had run dry was not really that important. In his hay-day, Jon had inspired many a musician, myself included. “The Somberlain” and “Storm of the Light’s Bane” will always be hailed as classic albums, and the world of metal has him to thank for them.
In late 2004, I had a chance to meet Jon in London, and witness the unholy gory-glory that was Dissection, (before the release of “Reinkaos”). A friend of mine had set up an interview with the guitarist/vocalist, and I was happier than a Viking at a pillaging to go along with him.
Jon was fresh from jail, and obviously happy to be free. The fact that he had been convicted of accessory to murder did not cross my mind as I sat myself next to the Swede; he was my musical icon, but not my god—sharing a certain aspect of my life with someone else does not connect me completely to his ideals. Besides, Jon came across as a well-spoken, highly intelligent man who spoke passionately about his music and beliefs, not an enraged killer, and the show that followed was the best concert I have ever seen.
The experience caused me to wonder about his evil reputation, and how, in general, a person can truly be evil if they inspire such great joy in others. Does an evil man create “evil joy” to prosper in the souls of those that appreciate him? I thought it strange that a man with such supposedly misanthropic views would choose to sit down for an hour-long interview, and then shake hands and sign autographs after his concert—shouldn’t he have sacrificed us instead?
But regardless of his motives for suicide, or his jail-term, Jon Nödtveidt left behind a musical legacy that instigate further head banging for many years to come…well, his first two albums, anyways.
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