Mayhem’s Black Metal Withstands Time and Trauma, Slays Summit Music Hall
April 5, 2025Photography: Béla Kershisnik
Arson, mutilation, suicide, and murder—although all unpleasant, we undeniably have a morbid fascination with the most troubling aspects of the human condition. All of these forces acting in tandem could be succinctly described as mayhem. That is why it is no surprise that, 41 years after their formation, eager and curious fans alike came to Denver’s own Summit Music Hall to see the controversial yet foundational black metal band, Mayhem.
Mayhem has an inescapable legacy, and it’s impossible to discuss them without a crash course in their colorful history. Before the show, I doubted if there was a need to write anything beyond a brief mention of their notoriety. But the band is well aware of their infamy, and they embrace it with open arms. Their set began with a two-minute highly stylized film showing pictures, quotes, and videos from their most controversial days. A montage of photographs showed Mayhem’s evolution year by year from 1984 up until now. Context for the uninitiated is a prerequisite to write about my experience attending their show.
Pelle’s peculiar personality and his stage antics quickly elevated Mayhem into legend.
Mayhem was founded in 1984 in Oslo, Norway, by guitarist Øystein Aarseth (Euronymous), bassist Jørn Stubberud (Necrobutcher), and drummer Kjetil Manheim. While they initially played thrash metal covers, they began to write their own music, and they quickly amassed an underground fan base with the release of their first EP, Deathcrush, in 1987. They became known for extreme live performances after the addition of Pelle Yngve Ohlin (better known by his stage name “Dead”) in 1988. His peculiar personality and his stage antics quickly elevated Mayhem into legend, even before what was yet to come. Pelle’s stage performances often involved self-mutilation with shattered glass or knives. He was the first musician who used makeup with a true desire to look like a corpse, and he intentionally starved himself to get starvation wounds. He often slept with rotting animals under his bed in order to absorb the stench of death. This, alongside his fully committed live performances against a backdrop of real impaled animal heads, solidified the first chapter of Mayhem’s infamy.
The next chapter began in 1991, when Pelle tragically yet inevitably committed suicide in a house rented by the band. After Euronymous discovered Pelle with slit wrists and a shotgun wound to the head, he went to a nearby store to purchase a disposable camera. Upon his return, he rearranged some items to get a better photograph of the scene. Quite unfortunately, this photograph was used as a bootleg album cover, and fragments of his skull were made into necklaces by Euronymous. This has been traumatizing and difficult for the family and friends of Pelle to deal with over the years, and their requests to stop circulating this photo should be respected.
Mayhem has since released five studio albums, showing great resilience to these traumas and controversies.
The rest of the band was disturbed by Euronymous’s attempt to exploit Pelle’s death to bolster their image. His callous handling of this tragedy led to a split in the band. In 1992, work on their next record continued with session musicians Varg Vikernes (Count Grishnackh), Snorre W. Ruch (Blackthorn), and their current vocalist, Attila. There were discussions between Euronymous and Varg about blowing up Nidaros Cathedral in Norway to coincide with the album’s release.
Euronymous was murdered by Varg in August of 1993 after a confrontation at the former’s apartment, before the album could be released. Euronymous was stabbed 23 times. Varg was sentenced to 21 years in prison for this murder and for his connection to multiple church arsons. Since his release from prison in 2009, he has deepened his ties to racist ideology, and he now spends his days spreading misogynistic, regressive, and Neo-Nazi propaganda to a fringe online audience. It should be made clear that nobody currently in the band has any ties to Varg, and they’ve made it apparent how strong their disdain for him is.
Summit Music Hall filled with young fans, many no older than 25, across ethnicities, showcasing Mayhem’s wide-reach, staying power and influence.
The band was essentially dissolved but reformed in 1995. From this point on, they distanced themselves from further violent extremism and real-world chaos and focused on their music and touring. Mayhem has since released five more studio albums, showing great resilience to these traumas and controversies.
In 2025, Mayhem still has enough following to pull in a respectably sized crowd so far away from their homeland. At Summit Music Hall, I observed a crowd of fans from a wide age range and of multiple ethnicities, showcasing the band’s wide-reaching staying power and influence. I was surprised at how many attendees were young, no older than 25, speculatively showcasing a resurgence of interest in the band.
The lights dimmed, and the aforementioned cinematic intro played on the screen behind the stage. It was a reminder that this was the band that so much chaos and controversy surrounded, and here they were, in this city. Chilling photos, videos, and audio clips played from their darkest days, and a dramatic sound design raised one’s heart rate in anticipation.
The drummer emerged first, to the cheer of the fans, about halfway through the cinematic intro. As the film was nearing its end, the rest of the band followed to an even louder cheer. A sound from the film thunderously boomed, and Mayhem stood confidently in front of their infamous logo. At the first pummeling notes of their performance, it was clear it would be an immersive experience.
For the first part of the set, Mayhem performed material from the latter half of their career. While this music is admittedly less well known, the songwriting and musicianship were enticing enough to compensate for unfamiliarity.
Dense fog bellowed out throughout the set. The band underwent multiple costume changes throughout, especially frontman Attila. His ghost-white face and the red blood-like stripes running down his head were suited to the sinister atmosphere. Viewed through the mist and lighting, it felt like a supernatural horror film.
That signature black metal sound of shrill tremolo-picked guitars, while reminiscent of the guitar gear quality of a high school garage band practice, was granted legitimacy by their undeniable enhancement of the theatrically dark atmosphere. Blast beats relentlessly thudded and shook one’s chest far more than they could have achieved on the lo-fi recordings of the band’s early days. The vocalist, Attila, had an insane repertoire of vocal techniques and deliveries, including shrieking, groaning, growling, and operatic singing.
One song was accompanied by a harrowing backdrop of real-world atrocities: genuine photos of war, famine, drug abuse, mutilation, and genocide were presented on the screen. Lyrics about humanity’s failings were shrieked and groaned. This was not for the faint of heart, and it was certainly a difficult moment in the set for most audiences.
The second part of the show began with more clips of their most famous days. This “sinister” band clearly has a heart, as a montage paid tribute to the deceased Pelle and Euronymous. Once respects were paid, they played their most famous song, “Freezing Moon.” Anyone with familiarity of this period in the band’s history would have had chills at the darkness of the opening guitar arpeggios. This was followed by “Life Eternal,” the lyrics to which were written by Pelle shortly before his suicide.
A few songs later, there was yet another tribute to Pelle, and the most emotional one yet. It was a moment of genuine vulnerability that transcended the “evil” black metal facade. Clips of Pelle being a simple and carefree young man played. He frolicked around in the forest by their home, he was smiling, and there was a moment where he casually and jokingly sang a light-hearted tune. It was a humanizing moment that reminded one that beneath his obsession with death, he was a kind and loving person, surrounded by people who most likely cared but didn’t know how to help. Pelle was unfortunately without access to the kind of mental health support that might have saved him. Following this emotional tribute, “Funeral Fog” was played, with Pelle’s chilling original vocals playing on the backing track. Attila disappeared for this song, allowing Pelle’s voice to live on through everyone in attendance.
The third and final part of the performance was an encore, and a throwback to their very first EP. The songs “Deathcrush,” “Chainsaw Gutsfuck,” “Carnage,” and “Pure Fucking Armageddon” were performed in their simplistic, hard-hitting chaos. The hardcore punk influence of their early work was on display here, as the material was written before black metal was fully defined. This crushing, raw, and primal heaviness was enough to snap the concert-goers out of their late-show stupor.
Having grown up in the metal scene, it was a dreamlike experience to see the band at the center of so much controversy in the flesh. While bassist Necrobutcher is the only remaining original member, Mayhem has a reputation that transcends any individual. Regardless of their earlier image and controversies, it is evident that all they want now is to focus on their music. It is also apparent that they dearly miss their departed friends, and there surely is the heavy weight of regret on their shoulders. There must have been many years spent by those involved questioning if they could have done anything differently to have achieved a less tragic outcome.
While many were lost in the chaos of troubled youth and an extreme scene in their early days, all they can do now, just like any of us, is make peace with what can’t be changed. Mayhem is a pinnacle of resilience, and a model for pushing forward despite the tragedies that overwhelm us in life.
