"THE ULTIMATE BLACK METAL COLLECTION. 16 TRACKS OF SHEER HELL PRESENTED BY FENRIZ FROM DARKTHRONE."

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on a music CD compilation no extreme metal/music maniac should be without -- "Fenriz Presents… The Best of Old-School Black Metal," a compilation album by DARKTHRONE co-founder and drummer Fenriz, and featuring mostly first and second wave black metal bands. The album was released by Peaceville Records in 2004.

"One can analyse a piece of music and deduct that it is black metal, but black metal is a feeling. And that feeling cannot be analysed."

-- FENRIZ, drummer, multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, and co-founder of Norwegian black/extreme metal band DARKTHRONE

TRACK LIST:

1.) BLASPHEMY – "Winds of the Black Godz"

2.) SARCOFAGO – "Satanic Lust"

3.) CELTIC FROST – "Dawn of Megiddo"

4.) NATTEFROST – "Sluts of Hell"

5.) MERCYFUL FATE – "Evil"

6.) SODOM – "Burst Command Til War"

7.) TORMENTOR – "Elisabeth Bathory"

8.) AURA NOIR – "Bloody Unity"

9.) DESTRUCTION – "Curse the Gods"

10.) SAMAEL – "Into the Pentagram"

11.) BULLDOZER – "Whisky Time"

12.) MAYHEM – "The Freezing Moon"

13.) HELLHAMMER – "The Third of the Storms"

14.) BURZUM – "Ea, Lord of the Deeps"

15.) VENOM – "Warhead"

16.) BATHORY – "Dies Irae"

"This compilation is dedicated to the memory of Quorthon's BATHORY."

-- FENRIZ (CD liner notes)

Source: www.discogs.com/master/159678-Fenriz-The-Best-Of-Old-School-Black-Metal.

Happy Birthday Quorthon!

Quorthon was born on this day in 1966 in Stockholm as Tomas Börje Forsberg.

View On WordPress

BATHORY "Massacre" (Album: Under the Sign of the Black Mark, 1987)

This Day in Metal 🤘

Nov 27th 2020 #Sodom released the album “Genesis XIX” #Indoctrination #TheHarpooneer #Euthanasia #ThrashMetal

Did you know…

The song “Sodom & Gomorrah" is dedicated to the memory of Quorthon and Chris Witchhunter. https://t.co/px3bBMskd1

In Memory Of Quorthon (1966-2004)

• Thomas Börje Forsberg •

Casually watches In Memory Of Quorthon for Xmas Eve. These are things I enjoy! Being too deep and pay respects to artists who have helped me.

Bathory - Blood Fire Death (In memory of Quorthon Seth)

Quorthon of Bathory. With our memory

My rabbit died yesterday.

If they say, who cares if one more light goes out? In the sky of a million stars, it flickers, flickers, who cares when someone's time runs out? If a moment is all we are, or quicker, quicker, who cares if one more light goes out? Well I do..

On the 17th, he was doing so well. He ate Critical Care, he ran around, he begged, he lied on the side, but yesterday he wasn’t as active. On the forenoon, we had a visit because there’s a small leak in our boiler and Thomas is moving positions during the time he’s in the house. After he have left, Thomas still seem to be doing well. I feed him Critical Care and I talk to him, I say that he’s the best bunny in the entire world, I call him ‘my dear’ During the day, the same thing is repeated. I praise him for eating. They play ’As Long As You Love Me’ by Backstreet Boys on the radio. I sing along to ’I don't care, who you are, where you're from, what you did as long as you love me’ while he’s eating. Later I prepare carrot puree for him because the animal hospital told us when we got him home that he had eaten that there, but he doesn’t eat it.

On the evening, when I feed him Critical Care, his stomach is swollen. I tell my father to call the animal hospital. The vet will do two surgeries during the night so the waiting time probably will be long. He doesn’t give us much hope. He tell us to think about what we want to do. I decide that he has to go there, that we will decide when the vet have looked at him. I try to feed him but he doesn’t want any. I tell my father to call the animal hospital and I leave to turn off my computer. An invisible force forces me to Thomas. I sit down by him. He is on the side. Is he alive? I open the hatch, I tocuh him, yes he is alive. I pick him up, I kiss him, ‘‘Darling’’, I whisper. I'm going to put him down again but his legs don't carry him. I carry him and my legs take us to where my parents are. ‘‘What is it?’‘, my mother ask. My eyes fill with tears when I realize, ‘‘He can’t walk’‘

I sit down beside her. I feel that everything is wrong. I ask my father to call another animal hospital that is placed much closer. He leave us to turn on my parent’s computer to check the number. While he’s away, Thomas gets cramps. In panic I ask my mother how I should hold him. She doesn’t know. I am holding Thomas and I am crying so much. I feel him gasp after air, I hear the sound coming after and ... He’s still. I hug him and I kiss him. My father comes back, he says that we’re welcome. ‘‘It’s too late, he’s dead’‘, we tell him. My father sits down next to me. He’s crying. During my entire life I have never seen him cry.

For almost two hours I hold my son in my arms. My father calls the animal hospital and tell them that Thomas have died. I try so hard to not think ‘‘if only’‘ but I find that impossible. If only we had let him die Saturday, if only we had taken him to the animal hospital earlier during the day. I never wanted him to die in panic, in extreme pain. I thought he was going to be okay. Inside my head, everything is on repeat. Nothing will ever be okay again. Ninety-one weeks after Chester, my son died and my heart breaks over and over.

On the night I dream that he’s alive and that he’s doing great. As if everything was a nightmare. We buried him today. The sun was shining so hot, and in the shadow, it’s lukewarm. The birds starts to eat from the birdhouse at the exact same moment when his box is being covered with sand. It could have been nice. It should feel nice to have another rabbit in the house, but everything feels so extremely wrong.

We carried out his cage to the car today and father drove it to our other house. He always stood like this. Always aware of what happened around him.

He loved to be near me. Whenever he was out, he was always making sure where I was. Sometimes he jumped into my knee.

In all this heartache, and pain, and grief, I picture him on a huge meadow and I picture that Chester greeted him with a piece of banana. I picture that when I die, all of my pets and Chester will greet me and I will sit down on the huge meadow and all my pets will run to me and lick me and I will hug them and Chester will sit down in front of me and he will tell me about all the funny things they did.

All the memories we have, all the times when I thought you wouldn’t make it. It all started in the end of October 2015. He stopped to eat. No food, no candy. On the 2nd of November, we get a time for the vet. They examine him and remits us to a veterinary clinic which is specialized in small animals. She tells us to feed him with Critical Care, that is the first time ever I hear about it. The day after, mum calls to the veterinary clinic. On November fourth, we take him to the veterinary clinic. They see that his molars have hooks. They x-ray him and keeps him to the following day where they fix his teeths under anesthesia. The medications he gets are painkillers and antibiotics. Almost every month since then, he have been to the vet for his teeths. Even after he had a jaw surgery. The animal hospital said that his liver and kidney values were not good and it all makes sense: when humans have much medications, their livers can get damaged and that’s what happened to my son. When he first visited the veterinary clinic which is specialized in small animals, the vet told me that he most likely wouldn’t be as old as a healthy bunny would. All the times under anesthesia, all the meds he had, in the end, it became too much for him. We gave him so many chances, more than most people probably would and I think of that now. The total cost for all his visits to the vet, all the medications is way over §2.000.

Thomas, Ace, Börje, Quorthon

2014-03-03 — 2019-04-18

And when I think of you, I will try so hard not to think about the way you died, how sick you were, how much pain you were in, I will remember all the happy times we had, all the amazing times. And I will treasure them. Thomas, my son, my joy, my everything; I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Happy Birthday Quorthon! Quorthon was born on this day in 1966 in Stockholm as Tomas Börje Forsberg.

SATYRICON & NOCTURNO CULTO “Under A Funeral Moon” (Live at Wacken 2004)

To the memory of Quorthon.

Boys can’t be pretty

Ficlet I may use later in my ace lowbone verse. In this one, Ned and Billy have been married for 14 years and they have a 8-year-old adoptive daughter, Roisin (only one month old when she was adopted), who’s heard a very weird thing about boys in school. Ned works part time and is a part time stay at home dad. ***

”Da?” ”What is it, kiddo?” Roisin was having her usual sandwich with almond milk after school as Ned had his tea. ”Do you want to… be a girl?” ”What?” Ned rose his eyebrows and bit back a laughter because the question was serious. ”Why are ye asking that?” ”Because you have long hair.” Ah. Ned put his cup down. ”Is it someone in school who said only girls could have long hair?” ”Miss Walden said Mike looked like a girl because he has long hair, but it’s not even long.” ”Is my hair longer?” ”Yeah. And she said Mike was messy, but I have longer hair than he does.” ”Well, Roisin, some people think that boys must have short hair and girls long hair.” ”Why?” ”Because they have very strange ideas about how boys and girls should look like.” ”But… if boys shouldn’t have long hair, why does it grow on ye?” Ned laughed. ”Good God, Roisin, ye’ve developed a dangerous sense of logic.” ”What’s logic?” ”It’s when ye understand that things making no sense, don’t make sense. Look, I’m not very good at explaining it, but logic is something really good, kiddo.” ”But what is it?” ”It’s to, like ye just did, realising that if hair can grow on both boys and girls, it’s stupid to say that girls with long hair are okay but boys with long hair are messy. Hair can be messy on both boys and girls, if ye don’t take care of it properly.” ”Uncle John and uncle James have long hair. And uncle Ben and uncle Charles too.” ”Ye see? Ye have a whole bunch of longhaired men and women in the family, kiddo. Daddy, uncle Jacob, grandpa Hal, grandpa Phelan, uncle Dylan and cousin Liam have short hair, but most of us actually have long.” ”Do I have to have long hair?” ”No, ye decide that yerself. T’is yer hair, kiddo, but if ye want to cut it, ye must talk to me and daddy first, so Max can help ye.  And miss Walden did wrong for saying such things to Mike.” ”Mike got sad.” Ned quickly went through his memory. ”It’s still only half past two and if ye want, ye could call Mike and ask if he wants to come here and play. I can help ye both with homeworks. If that’s alright with his maw, of course.” ”Really?” ”Uh-huh. If ye want to.” ”Yeah!” Ned took up his phone, scrolled through his phonebook and found Mike’s mother’s number. He handed it over to Roisin, who got to talk with Mike’s mom and then Mike and then Ned had to talk to Mrs. Harris, who’d just found out Mike wanted a haircut because he didn’t want to be a girl. ”Hello, Mrs. Harris.” ”Mr. Low, what a nice surprise. How are you and Mr. Manderly? And little Roisin?” ”Oh, we’re just fine. Ye and Mike?” ”Except from a the fact that he came home devestated because someone said he looks like a girl, it’s all fine. Did Roisin tell you about what actually happened, because Mike wont say?” ”She did, that’s why we’re calling. I know it’s not planned, but maybe Mike would like to come over and play today. I’ll help them both with their homeworks and drive Mike home after dinner.” ”Well… Yes, yes of course that’s okay. It’s more than okay.” ”I realised it’s a bit sudden but I thought Mike perhaps would feel better if he sees…” ”A man with long hair, yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Low, this… this is much appreciated.” ”No problem at all, Mrs. Harris, I assure ye.” ”I’ll come over at once, if that’s alright?” ”Absolutely.” Ned spent the rest of his afternoon being a hair model for Roisin and Mike, who took turns brushing, braiding and making far from elegant hairbuns on him when they were done with homework. Then, as a very rare gesture, Ned allowed the kids into his own room to look at some of the pictures he had there with metal musicians like Quorthon, Dio, Cliff Burton and Obsidian Claw. Mike soon came to the conclusion that Miss Walden was wrong and he wanted even longer hair when he got older. When Billy came home for dinner, Ned had a scruffy braid and was stirring a minced beef sauce to the spaghetti while Roisin and Mike setted the table. Ned smiled as his husband entered the kitchen. ”Hi, honey. How was yer day?” ”Good. I missed you.” Billy gave his husband a soft kiss and Roisin sighed. ”You say that everyday, daddy.” Billy laughed and turned to hug his daughter. ”That’s because I miss your da every day, and you too, sweetie. Hello, Mike.” ”Hi, Mr. Manderly.” ”You can say Billy, Mike, I promise you it’s perfectly alright.” ”Alright, Billy.” Roisin pointed at her da. ”Look, daddy, we braided da’s hair.” ”Yeah, I can see that. He’s really pretty.” Mike looked confused. ”Boys can’t be pretty.” Billy laughed and gave Ned a kiss on cheek. ”Oh yes, they can, Mike. Boys, girls, men, women, geezers and old ladies… Anyone can be pretty and I think Roisin’s da is very pretty.” He kissed Ned again, soft on the lips and Roisin and Mike bood. ”Ew! Gross.” Ned smiled. ”Why’s it gross?” ”Parents don’t kiss.” Mike sounded very certain and Roisin, who actually saw her daddies kiss every day, rolled her eyes. ”Mine does. And it’s embarressing.” Both Ned and Billy laughed and then Billy asked the kids to go wash their hands before dinner. When they’d left the kitchen, Billy took the chance to pull Ned close in a tight hug, nuzzling his ear. ”I mean it, you know. Miss you every day.” ”And I ye.” ”Why do we have a dinner guest in the middle of week, by the way?” ”A special reason ’bout hair. I’ll explain later, I know ye’ll approve.” Billy took the chance to nuzzle the messy braid. ”It suits you.” ”Really?” ”Mhm. Long hair is manly. Especially on you.” Ned rolled his eyes, but the blush betrayed him and he gave his sappy husband a pinch in his arm. ”I’m starting to think the kids were right. We’re bloody gross.”

Tomas Börge Forsberg, a.k.a. Quorthon, passed away in June 2004. His groundbreaking work with Bathory in Heavenshore studios laid the foundation for both the Black and Viking Metal genres. Even as the mainstream mocked and derided his passion at the time, a place in the history of extreme music is assured by his legacy. . An artist's creation may offer a persistence of spirit beyond the flesh. Inspiring others to create, in turn inspiring more. Many bands cite Quorthon as an influence and rightly so. Yet as I come to pay my own meagre tribute, I wonder how many knew and understood the man behind the music? . Beyond art, everyone leaves their mark. At the nexus of crossed paths we retain memories of one another. Pleasant and painful. Sweet and sorrowful. All with unique and meaningful potency. . Sudden loss hurts hard, as the echo of another's resonance falls silent. Yet their spirit lives on through recollection and remembrance. Even the humblest of actions can change another's life, and as I reflect on those lost I gain comfort from how their influence has shaped me. . A man is remembered. A legacy is revered. . #tomasborgeforsberg #quorthon #bathory #sweden #stockholm #sandsborgskyrkogård #cemetery #grave #gravestone #music #metal #blackmetal #vikingmetal #memory #death #legacy (at Sandsborgs Kyrkogård)

BATHORY - In Memory Of Quorthon CD 03