MoM Writer an all around good egg JT Smith to gave his view:
My history with metal as with many things in my life is the story of being an outsider. I grew up in a tiny little Midlands town in the 90’s, which in real terms meant that the phrase “ethnic diversity,” referred to me and my sister. Sticking out like a sore thumb during your most formative years when all you want to do is be ‘normal,’ and fit in gives you a skewed perspective early on in life, and it certainly didn’t help that children can be extremely cruel. I don’t want to give you a full, Dickensian history of myself, but suffice it to say that if one of your most upsetting memories is of being asked out as a joke and then being bullied for it by your classmates, (because, as I was reliably informed, no one asks out a “...filthy fucking chink,” - I’m actually half Filipino) you’re primed to like a type of music that revels in, and celebrates its outsider status.
My love of the genre hasn’t diminished either. It’s just taken a place at the top of the pantheon of types of music I listen to, which according to some people means I can’t be a proper metal fan (seriously, who are these psychopaths who listen to Slayer first thing in the morning?!). It’s become less a thing I listen to because I’m angry with the world (Oh teenage angst), and more a genre that makes me feel vital and powerful. For example, it’s now my default lifting music at the gym, and I defy anyone not to set new personal bests whilst listening to Meshuggah’s Bleed - and appropriately, my favourite metal bands are ones that are outsiders in general to metal; Both Torche and Astronoid, whose sound can be described as impressively happy (especially if you’re looking at Harmonicraft and Air respectively) are quite divisive for that reason. But there’s always been something of a disconnect for me with metal. It’s an outsider form of music, and I have spent most of my life as an outsider not only being a racial minority, but one that’s not taken seriously by either side of the divide; I’m not Filipino enough for other Filipinos having grown up culturally British, and no matter where I go or what I do in Britain, my skin colour and eye shape will always mark me out as ‘the other.’
Listening to metal definitely makes me feel like I’m part of the ‘tribe.’ And I still feel that the artists I listen to ‘get,’ the sense of isolation and disconnection I felt when I was younger. But there’s no getting around it. Metal is overwhelmingly white, and overwhelmingly male, and it has been for as long as I’ve been a fan. Furthermore, there’s an incredible amount of resistance to even talking about the issue, and every attempt I’ve ever made to do so is dismissed with either outright denial or pointing to the very few examples of diversity, as if those exceptions to the rule disprove the standard. It’s great that there are some prominent metal musicians who don’t fit the ‘straight-white-male,’ cookie cutter.
Representation is representation after all, and I’ll take it wherever I see it. But we can’t pretend that racial minorities aren’t under-represented in metal, or that it isn’t a problem. A lack of diversity of faces means a lack of diversity of voices, and at best, that means songwriting isn’t going to be as innovative or interesting as it could be. At worst, it means not enough people acknowledging or pointing out some heinous shit taking place in their communities. After all we’re *still* making apologies and excuses for Phil Anselmo. The first step to solving a problem is acknowledging that there is one, and we’re still not good enough at doing that yet.
We also had a contribution from metal fan Mark Mikkelsen
In this post, I use the word “race” to effectively describe a complex manifestation of innumerable physical and genetic traits. But I just want to preface by saying that I truly believe race is an antiquated term best left for the dusty annals of the 19th century. Nonetheless, I use it because we’re stuck with it (even in 2021).
During much of high school, I had so many phases of attempting to refine my self-identity—like many I suppose. My pursuit of my own identity meant I was drawn to cliques that I knew didn’t really fit me. The benefit of hindsight... But from the first time I heard, and eventually got into, “real” metal as a teenager I knew I that I had found my tribe.
I had discovered—like early man had fire—metal. I knew I had identified my people with all the characteristics I was beginning to adopt at the time: irreverence, badassery, anti-authoritarianism, anti-dogmatic philosophies, and a love for all that is underground.
Now, I am of mixed race: White Danish by my father and Black Malawian by my mother. Quite the unique combination, or so I’ve been told! But here I am: mixed, metal-loving, and unabashed to be who I am in a predominately White cis-male subculture.
This draws me into what I want to really talk about:
Being a non-White metalhead.
It doesn’t elude me how tense the discussion about race and color is right now, let alone in metal. Hell, I’ve lived in Baltimore for five years and have endured Trump’s America, so I get it. But for anyone who has the inclination to say “race isn’t the point,” or “everything now is about race!”, I think doesn’t really get it.
Yeah, I have to say it, y’all: racial bias does exist and racism in metal is very much still a thing. So as someone who has had trouble his entire life trying to figure out if he is White or Black, even in the metal scene, of course race matters. It’s naïve to believe it’s not an integral part of our societies and cultures. The idea of a post-racial world is (for the moment) a pipe dream, sadly.
But let’s talk more concretely about my own experiences about being mixed-race in metal. I went to my first live metal show in Glasgow, where I attended university. I saw Amon Amarth support Dimmu Borgir. Bands I had grown up with as a teen. And it was fucking stellar.
Did I ever feel out of place because of my skin color? Not really. I was far more apprehensive because I was (and still am) a shy motherfucker that at the time didn’t know anyone, let alone a metalhead. (I still kind of dislike going to gigs where I know I won’t know anyone there.)
I was a first-year university student then, just flown from the family coop and thrown into a new environment. Still trying to grow out of my adolescent ignorance of my identity. But at that age I more-or-less knew how I saw myself, or wanted to see myself, including as a mixed-race person.
As time went by, I went to more shows, and I felt more confident in my skin—my brown skin. It did take some time for me to feel comfortable being the only person of color at a show, but I traversed that passage, overcame that crucible. I guarantee you I’m not the only one you know that has been or is now going through this…
Anyway, I have become a “veteran” of metal, if the term has any real meaning. I’m 32 now, and still likely to be one of the only persons of color to attend a local gig. But I’m also very much hard-as-spikes metal.
How do I feel about my differences from most of my fellow metalheads now? I actually feel very much at home with everyone I meet at shows/bars/elsewhere who is part of the tribe. But I know I can never ignore that I do stand out and how I differ from most of those I befriend in metal. In the end, I am me and that’s what I care about the most. I know there will be still be shit in metal that excludes me (more indirectly than anything else), but I’ve gotten too old to be fazed by that crap!
Yes, race does matter, and a lot of times it really is the point. I think we as metalheads should have no issue discussing all that comes with that, especially as it pertains to our scene. There are obviously entire cohorts in metal that don’t think a person like me should be part of this subculture. But I also know from my own experiences and others, for every racist bonehead scum there are 10 more great brothers and sisters ready to welcome everyone into metal.
I am who am I am, and I flourish in metal; in virtue, and not despite, of my “otherness.” And I sure as hell will continue to do so till the day I shuffle of this mortal coil!
We also had a contribution from metal fan Mark Mikkelsen
In this post, I use the word “race” to effectively describe a complex manifestation of innumerable physical and genetic traits. But I just want to preface by saying that I truly believe race is an antiquated term best left for the dusty annals of the 19th century. Nonetheless, I use it because we’re stuck with it (even in 2021).
During much of high school, I had so many phases of attempting to refine my self-identity—like many I suppose. My pursuit of my own identity meant I was drawn to cliques that I knew didn’t really fit me. The benefit of hindsight... But from the first time I heard, and eventually got into, “real” metal as a teenager I knew I that I had found my tribe.
I had discovered—like early man had fire—metal. I knew I had identified my people with all the characteristics I was beginning to adopt at the time: irreverence, badassery, anti-authoritarianism, anti-dogmatic philosophies, and a love for all that is underground.
Now, I am of mixed race: White Danish by my father and Black Malawian by my mother. Quite the unique combination, or so I’ve been told! But here I am: mixed, metal-loving, and unabashed to be who I am in a predominately White cis-male subculture.
This draws me into what I want to really talk about:
Being a non-White metalhead.
It doesn’t elude me how tense the discussion about race and color is right now, let alone in metal. Hell, I’ve lived in Baltimore for five years and have endured Trump’s America, so I get it. But for anyone who has the inclination to say “race isn’t the point,” or “everything now is about race!”, I think doesn’t really get it.
Yeah, I have to say it, y’all: racial bias does exist and racism in metal is very much still a thing. So as someone who has had trouble his entire life trying to figure out if he is White or Black, even in the metal scene, of course race matters. It’s naïve to believe it’s not an integral part of our societies and cultures. The idea of a post-racial world is (for the moment) a pipe dream, sadly.
But let’s talk more concretely about my own experiences about being mixed-race in metal. I went to my first live metal show in Glasgow, where I attended university. I saw Amon Amarth support Dimmu Borgir. Bands I had grown up with as a teen. And it was fucking stellar.
Did I ever feel out of place because of my skin color? Not really. I was far more apprehensive because I was (and still am) a shy motherfucker that at the time didn’t know anyone, let alone a metalhead. (I still kind of dislike going to gigs where I know I won’t know anyone there.)
I was a first-year university student then, just flown from the family coop and thrown into a new environment. Still trying to grow out of my adolescent ignorance of my identity. But at that age I more-or-less knew how I saw myself, or wanted to see myself, including as a mixed-race person.
As time went by, I went to more shows, and I felt more confident in my skin—my brown skin. It did take some time for me to feel comfortable being the only person of color at a show, but I traversed that passage, overcame that crucible. I guarantee you I’m not the only one you know that has been or is now going through this…
Anyway, I have become a “veteran” of metal, if the term has any real meaning. I’m 32 now, and still likely to be one of the only persons of color to attend a local gig. But I’m also very much hard-as-spikes metal.
How do I feel about my differences from most of my fellow metalheads now? I actually feel very much at home with everyone I meet at shows/bars/elsewhere who is part of the tribe. But I know I can never ignore that I do stand out and how I differ from most of those I befriend in metal. In the end, I am me and that’s what I care about the most. I know there will be still be shit in metal that excludes me (more indirectly than anything else), but I’ve gotten too old to be fazed by that crap!
Yes, race does matter, and a lot of times it really is the point. I think we as metalheads should have no issue discussing all that comes with that, especially as it pertains to our scene. There are obviously entire cohorts in metal that don’t think a person like me should be part of this subculture. But I also know from my own experiences and others, for every racist bonehead scum there are 10 more great brothers and sisters ready to welcome everyone into metal.
I am who am I am, and I flourish in metal; in virtue, and not despite, of my “otherness.” And I sure as hell will continue to do so till the day I shuffle of this mortal coil!
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