For charismaticmegafauna, Jeff, and Cyrus

I think I might have died if not for Jimmy King. I was fifteen and depressed: Kurt had just died and my parents didn't understand me. I'd walk round the village listening to In Utero on my walkman, thinking dark thoughts.

I was on the rec, sitting on the swings with an unlit cigarette - it's hard to buy new ones when every shopkeeper knows you by name and that you're not sixteen. Jimmy King came and sat on the swing beside me. I'd not hung out with him since primary school, but we used to be friends.

"Are you all right?" he asked me.

And it all poured out. I told him how trapped I felt, how much I hated our village. I stopped when I felt embarrassed but Jimmy didn't laugh.

"I know what we need to do," he said.

It was the first time I ever made graffiti. On a wall by the library, we drew an epic pentagram with the words 'Hail Satan'. I thought the backward 'S' made it look dark, but it probably seemed childish. But by the end of that night, I felt better. Me and Jimmy spent more time together. He started teaching me guitar.

When Jimmy found an animal skull, we left it in some trees near the school, a candle burning on top. That one made the county papers and things got serious. There was a church sermon about it. The primary school had a special assembly where they sat in silence for fifteen minutes. The teachers said that someone might know something about the culprits. Maybe it was an older brother?

Jimmy King and me, the village satanists, and nobody knew. By sixteen I was no longer depressed and could play most of the guitar lines from In Utero. Jimmy and I discussed starting a band, but never did more than bedroom Nirvana covers. Ironic, given that I ended up as replacement bassist in a Nirvana tribute act. And even now, when I feel ground down, I sometimes still paint pentagrams in back alleys. Hail Satan!

Background

Last Thursday I woke dispirited. I've been slowly coming back from a mild burnout for weeks now, and this was a low day. I felt dissatisfied with writing and considered deleting this mailing list. I’ve been working recently to remove unnecessary ‘ought-tos’ from my life, and maybe this was one.

I took the day slowly and, in the evening, played around a little with my writing. Someone on a discord mentioned the Mountain Goat's song The Best Ever Death Metal Band from Denton, and this story came to me.

It’s not the first piece I’ve written that was inspired by this song. Some of the bands mentioned in my South Downs Way saga use the band names that John Darnielle sings. Nearvana, the covers band referenced here, also turn up in a few places. The substack has featured a story about Davey the Drummer and Gary the singer has also appeared. The band also feature in a couple of my zines.

It’s a great song. It’s a sad song, but there’s something about the way Darnielle sings ‘Hail Satan’. Quoting from a 20th anniversary review of the album, “Hail Satan is an affirmation, a promise to be true to yourself; it is an insistence on your own survival."

Recommendation 1

There’s a lot to be said about satanism in Sussex in the 80s and 90s. This is the theme of Justin Hopper’s new show The Great Satanic Swindle, which I wrote about a few weeks ago. Justin has announced a new set of dates, and this show is highly recommended. I hope to catch the Leeds performance.

Recommendation 2

A lot of my burnout is from how everything seems to have numbers, metrics, goals and streaks attached these days. It’s wearisome and can easily turn everything into work. This mindset drains the joy from hobbies such as this newsletter1. An excellent read on the topic is Simon Indelicates’ essay Metrics are the Thief of Joy. As I know from work, setting metrics and goals is dangerous, as they easily diverge from the thing you should be focussed on. Art is not supposed to be about making a platform’s numbers increase.

Recommendation 3

The Best Ever Death Metal Band from Denton is the first song on the 2002 Mountain Goats album All Hail West Texas. The cover announces that this as "fourteen songs about seven people, two houses, a motorcycle, and a locked treatment facility for adolescent boys".

My favourite song from the record is not actually on the record. The original album is recorded on a boombox which makes it a difficult listen. But Welcome to Nightvale launched a podcast called I Only Listen to the Mountain Goats, where each track was covered by a different performer.

Source Decay, track 13, is covered by Holy Sons and it's one of the most beautiful songs I know. Definitely top 5. I tried to find a couplet I could quote here for you, but taking any bit out of context would be like pinning a butterfly. These lyrics are better in flight.

Hail Satan!