Heavy Metal Youth Identities: Researching The Musical Empowerment Of Youth Transitions And Psychosocial Wellbeing 1787568490, 9781787568495, 1787568504, 9781787568501, 1787568512, 9781787568518

Table of contents :
HEAVY METAL YOUTHIDENTITIES: RESEARCHINGTHE MUSICALEMPOWERMENT OFYOUTH TRANSITIONS ANDPSYCHOSOCIAL WELLBEING......Page 2
Acknowledgements......Page 6
Contents......Page 8
1.1 The Accidental Metal Scholar......Page 10
Positioning My Research Approach......Page 14
1.2 What We ‘Know’ about Metal Youth, and Ways that
We ‘Know’ it......Page 16
The Social Disapproval of Metal: History and Consequences......Page 17
Previous Studies of Metal Youth......Page 21
So, What Do We Know about the Transitions and Aspirations of Metal Youth?......Page 23
The Research ‘Problem’, and What to Do about it…......Page 27
1.3 The Research......Page 28
Framing the Study......Page 30
Sample and Recruiting......Page 32
Field Observations, Field Notes and General Communication......Page 34
Data Management and Analysis......Page 35
Part 1: Becoming Metal......Page 38
2.1 Power of Music, Power of Words......Page 40
2.2 Checking in with the Broken Self......Page 41
2.3 Galvanising the Dominant Self......Page 46
Moral Superiority......Page 47
Metal Work Ethic and Individualism......Page 50
2.4 Girls Hurt and Hate Too......Page 52
2.5 ‘Metal is My Drug’......Page 54
If it Feels Good, Do it......Page 56
Concluding Remarks......Page 57
Chapter 3: ‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’: Embodying Metal Identities for Social Protection......Page 58
Experience......Page 59
Feeling......Page 60
Action......Page 61
Biographies of Exclusion: The Complex Structuring of ‘Unchosen’ School-Based Identities......Page 63
Why to go Public with a Metal Identity?......Page 68
Metal as a Strategy for Political Transformation at the Level
of the Individual......Page 75
Is it Personal or Political? What Have We Learned?......Page 77
4.1 What is Metal Community? And Why is it so Important?......Page 80
Case Study – Joey......Page 81
What did Others Have to Say?......Page 83
4.2 Achieving Metal Community Membership......Page 84
Metal Community Membership: Establishing Proof of Eligibility......Page 85
Metal Community Life: Bedroom Metallers......Page 86
4.3 Membership Rights: And Justice for All?......Page 89
(Un)Defining Class......Page 90
Lower SES......Page 91
Higher SES......Page 92
Constructing the ‘Other’: How They Talked about Metal Youth from Other Metal Subgenres......Page 93
Patterns of Access, Consumption and Participation......Page 96
Constructing Authenticity and Choice......Page 102
Concluding Remarks......Page 105
PArt 2: Being Metal......Page 106
5.1 Are Heavy Metal Dreams such a Problem? It Depends Who you Ask …......Page 108
5.2 Metal-Related Travel......Page 112
Case Study – Alex......Page 113
Case Study – Stevo......Page 116
What about the Others? Differences in Ability to Achieve Travel Plans......Page 119
5.3 Playing and Plan B......Page 122
Case Study – David......Page 124
Summarising Thematic Differences......Page 127
6.1 Developmental Versus Default Pathways......Page 128
Intangible Family Support......Page 129
6.2 Group 1 – Developmental Pathways......Page 131
Case Study – Alex......Page 132
6.3 Group 2 – Default Pathways......Page 136
Case Study – Jake......Page 137
Me(n)tal Health......Page 142
Parents and Tangible Support......Page 143
6.5 Metal Community Life......Page 147
Status and Confidence......Page 148
Road Testing, Reality Checking and Re-Authoring Aspirations for Success......Page 150
7.1 What is Intangible Support, and Why is it Important?......Page 152
What Do We Already ‘Know’ about Parents of Metal Youth?......Page 153
Parental Attitudes to Metal in the Present Study......Page 154
7.2 How I Approached this: Parenting Typology Explained......Page 155
Non-Adaptive Parenting......Page 156
Reactive Parenting......Page 160
Adaptive Parenting......Page 162
7.3 Parenting Analysis Applied to Siblings......Page 163
Non-Adaptive Siblings......Page 164
Adaptive Siblings......Page 165
Looking Beyond Family Contexts......Page 166
7.4 Applying Key Learnings in a Practical Frame......Page 167
What I’ve Learned from Non-Metal Youth (that the Metal Youth also Reinforced)......Page 168
How can Subculture Factor into the Requirements of a Changing Workforce?......Page 169
Key Messages for Families......Page 170
Key Messages for Practitioners and Others......Page 171
Principles of Subculturally Competent Child and Youth Practice......Page 173
8.1 ‘Signing Up’ for Metal: Early Recruitment into the Metal Subculture......Page 174
8.2 ‘Becoming’ Metal: Early Embodiment of Metal Identities......Page 176
8.3 ‘Being’ Metal: a Deeper Understanding of ‘Heavy Metal Dreams’......Page 178
8.4 Directions for Future Research......Page 179
8.5 Final Word......Page 180
Reference......Page 182
Index......Page 188

Citation preview

HEAVY METAL YOUTH IDENTITIES: RESEARCHING THE MUSICAL EMPOWERMENT OF YOUTH TRANSITIONS AND PSYCHOSOCIAL WELLBEING

EMERALD STUDIES IN METAL MUSIC AND CULTURE Series Editors: Rosemary Lucy Hill and Keith Kahn-Harris International Editorial Advisory Board: Andy R. Brown, Bath Spa University, UK; Amber Clifford-Napleone, University of Central Missouri, USA; Kevin Fellezs, Columbia University, USA; Cynthia Grund, University of Southern Denmark; Gérôme Guibert, Université Sorbonne Nouvelle, France; Catherine Hoad, Macquarie University, Australia; Rosemary Overell, Otago University, NZ; Paula Rowe, University of South Australia; Niall Scott, University of Central Lancashire, UK; Karl Spracklen, Leeds Beckett University, UK; Heather Savigny, De Montford University, UK; Nelson Varas-Diaz, Florida International University, USA; Deena Weinstein, DePaul University, USA Metal Music Studies has grown enormously over the last eight years from a handful of scholars within Sociology and Popular Music Studies, to hundreds of active scholars working across a diverse range of disciplines. The rise of interest in heavy metal academically reflects the growth of the genre as a normal or contested part of everyday lives around the globe. The aim of this series is to provide a home and focus for the growing number of monographs and edited collections that analyse heavy metal and other heavy music; to publish work that fits within the emergent subject field of metal music studies; that is, work that is critical and interdisciplinary across the social sciences and humanities; to publish work that is of interest to and enhances wider disciplines and subject fields across social sciences and the humanities and to support the development of Early Career Researchers through providing opportunities to convert their doctoral theses into research monographs. Published Titles and Forthcoming Publications Pauwke Berkers and Julian Schaap, Gender Inequality in Metal Music Production Ruth Barratt-Peacock and Ross Hagen (Eds.), Medievalism and Metal Music Studies: Throwing Down the Gauntlet Catherine Hoad (Ed.) Australian Metal Music: Identities, Scenes and Cultures Peter Pichler, Metal Music and Sonic Knowledge in Europe: A Cultural History Karl Spracklen, Metal Music and the Re-Imagining of Masculinity, Place, Race and Nation Interested in publishing in this series? Please contact Rosemary Hill R.L.Hill@ leeds.ac.uk and Keith Kahn-Harris [email protected]

HEAVY METAL YOUTH IDENTITIES: RESEARCHING THE MUSICAL EMPOWERMENT OF YOUTH TRANSITIONS AND PSYCHOSOCIAL WELLBEING

BY PAULA ROWE University of South Australia, Australia

United Kingdom – North America – Japan – India – Malaysia – China

Emerald Publishing Limited Howard House, Wagon Lane, Bingley BD16 1WA, UK First edition 2018 Copyright © 2018 Emerald Publishing Limited Reprints and permissions service Contact: [email protected] No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without either the prior written permission of the publisher or a licence permitting restricted copying issued in the UK by The Copyright Licensing Agency and in the USA by The Copyright Clearance Center. Any opinions expressed in the chapters are those of the authors. Whilst Emerald makes every effort to ensure the quality and accuracy of its content, Emerald makes no representation implied or otherwise, as to the chapters’ suitability and application and disclaims any warranties, express or implied, to their use. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: 978-1-78756-850-1 (Print) ISBN: 978-1-78756-849-5 (Online) ISBN: 978-1-78756-851-8 (Epub)

Acknowledgements

Above all, I am deeply grateful to the metal youth who worked with me on this project. There would be no book without them. But more than that, it was such a privilege getting to know them – they have enriched my life considerably. I’m so pleased I now get to share much of what they taught me in this book. In fact, I’m grateful to all the young people I’ve worked with over the years who have helped me to form various understandings of young people’s lived experiences in the social world. Their stories inspire and motivate me to keep championing youth affairs at every opportunity. Many thanks to all the metal scholars around the globe who have generously offered me wisdom, resources, opportunities and encouragement over the last 10 years. Our global collegial environment, born of necessity, is something special to be part of. Thank you also to my colleagues at the University of South Australia for their academic insight and support, and willingness to trust in the merit of researching with metal youth. Cheers, of course, to my family and friends, and my own metal kin along the way. And don’t forget the dog. He has one job. Make everything okay. He excels at his work.

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Contents

Chapter 1 Introduction

1 Part 1: Becoming Metal

Chapter 2  ‘Metal is My Drug’: The Comforts and Pleasures of Listening to Metal

31

Chapter 3  ‘It’s True, Metal gives You Power when You’re Powerless’: Embodying Metal Identities for Social Protection

49

Chapter 4  ‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’: Narrative Constructions of Acceptance and Belonging

71

Part 2: Being Metal Chapter 5  ‘No Shit I Wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’: Heavy Metal Dreams Reprised

99

Chapter 6  ‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’: From Dreams to Reality, What Does it Take?

119

Chapter 7  ‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’: Practical Wisdom for Parents and Others

143

Chapter 8  ‘It Sucks that People Get the Wrong Idea about Metal’: Concluding Remarks

165

References

173

Index

179

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Chapter 1

Introduction 1.1 The Accidental Metal Scholar Writing a book about heavy metal fans has pretty much blind-sided me in terms of where I thought my research career was heading. If anything, I was on track for writing a book about housing inequality and youth homelessness, which is a very long way from a study of heavy metal youth. Writing this book also finds me a very long way from ‘dropping out’ out of high school; perhaps more accurately, being ‘pushed out’. I’d been a bright student in primary school; I had many friends; I played a lot of sport; and I always had some kind of entrepreneurial scheme on the go. And, I loved music. I grew up in South Australia as an only child, and would spend hours upon hours entertaining myself with my records and making scrap books of my favourite bands out of music magazines. In the mid-1970s at around age 10, I remember The Sweet and Thin Lizzy having a huge impact on my musical tastes – looking back, it feels as though I turned absolutely riff-crazy overnight because I seem to recall dumping the Bay City Rollers in a heartbeat for Budgie and Black Sabbath (sorry Woody, we just weren’t meant to be). By 1977, Kiss had become a game changer for me and fast became my biggest early musical influence. (I can see the track-listing for Love Gun floating through my mind right now, only a drop in the bucket really in terms of some of the tensions that feminist metal fans have to make peace with.) In 1978, something else that was life changing happened. I was about to start high school and my parents received a letter stating that the residential location of our house had been re-zoned and I was now zoned to the brand new ‘super’ school being built to accommodate a huge wave of British migration into the region. My friends were all going to one of two existing high schools (as I’d also expected); however, this proper awful news meant I’d be going off to a huge new school with 1,500 students whom I didn’t know. And, what a wretched experience it was. I’d never seen a Harrington jacket before; I didn’t know what Doc Martens were; and I quietly wondered why on earth you’d roll your pants up in the winter time (to show off your red socks, as it turned out). And, what was this music they were listening to?

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 1–27 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181001

2    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Kiss wore black; so, I wore black, simple. Little did I know I was signalling an ‘Otherness’ at school that was about to get me noticed for all the wrong reasons. Skins (short for skinheads), Rockers and Surfies were the dominant youth cultural groups in those days; and there, I was wearing black, having very few friends and unknowingly aligning with an almost non-existent cohort of Rockers in a school full of Skins. And, even worse, I had the Kiss and Van Halen logos emblazoned across all my belongings – not just metal, but US metal bands, and I was at school with 1,000+ UK immigrants. Therefore, it began: the namecalling, rumour-spreading, physical threats, shoe and bag stealing, lunch-taking and general humiliation. The more it hurt, the more I resisted against everything they stood for: their look, their music and their ways of being. They were bright and social and raucous and flamboyant, singing Madness songs all around the yard like soccer chants – whereas, I didn’t speak much and only wore black, and started getting tattoos to commemorate my difference (fittingly, Paul Stanley’s rose was my first tattoo). The mere thought of going to school each day made me physically sick. I’d been such a bright student but I lost all drive to do any school work, preferring to put the headphones on and get lost in the music. I’d go to school in the mornings, get my name checked off and then jump the school fence and get out of there at the first opportunity. But, I couldn’t get away with truanting every day; and at times, I contemplated suicide as a way out of my situation. By the second year of high school, at about 14, I started running away from home and staying in the city. My parents would find me and bring me home but then I’d be gone again at the first chance. By 15, I was officially out of school and a huge burden was lifted; but by this stage, I’d developed networks in the city and I enjoyed the underground life ‘on the street’ so much that I was also officially out of home not long after. Early on, I discovered the Bloor Court jam rooms when I’d needed somewhere to sleep in the city and get out of the winter weather. The old jam rooms have long since been demolished and replaced with a multi-level parking structure that belies the historical significance of the site for local metal pioneers. I studied music briefly at school; but in 1982 at Bloor Court, I got to really play the drums with a band, for the first time, and it was pure bliss – until a better drummer came along and I was relegated to singing, purely because I was good at writing lyrics and we wanted to write and play original songs. I was completely enamoured with the ambiguity and phrasing of writing and singing death metal lyrics, and had every ambition of making my fame and fortune as a death metal vocalist. Then, in 1985, plans changed again, I fell pregnant. The good news was that I qualified for public housing as a teen mother; so, I was lucky to finally have a home of my ‘own’. But, the bad news was that motherhood squelched all plans for a musical career at that time. Another baby followed two years later. Raising two small children as a sole parent put the brakes on my scene participation for a few years, but I continued to write songs and buy records and watch Rage and Headbanger’s Ball on television to help me still feel in touch. To say my mother was extremely helpful is a massive understatement (both mum and dad really); she used to watch the babies a lot. By 1989, she was having them stay at her place most weekends just so I could

Introduction    3 go to gigs. I re-connected with the scene and had a few more attempts at establishing a musical career, but found myself transitioning into management and promotion and trying to change the culture and expectation of playing ‘covers’ in the local scene at that time. (In hindsight, I can see this was an early calling to advocacy and effecting social change.) When the babies started school, I spent my days working in a factory and spent my nights planning gigs and promoting the scene. Sometimes, I’d have to line up for hours at the only telephone box in a street full of state-housed sole mothers just to make calls and book gigs (anyone else remember life before cell phones?), and I’d walk down to the local video-rental store and use their copying machine to make gig flyers with the babies in tow – they loved getting an Icy Pole for compliant behaviour while my mummy photocopied pictures of blood-soaked corpses to make flyers. The ‘original’ scene had finally taken hold locally in the early 1990s and it was really going off. Then in 1996, I began managing a band that would end up being another life-changing move. I really enjoyed working with this particular band: personally, creatively and professionally; such good friendships and such good times. We were enjoying a wave of success that included playing to capacity crowds at local venues most weekends, alternative festivals, international support slots, three records and interest from international labels. Then, I took a shot at starting my own label. I was getting good press and a lot of interest; so, I scaled down my management activities but remained the best of friends and social allies with this band. Then, two unthinkable things happened. In September 2002, three of the four band members decided together (and without warning) to replace the drummer. And, less than four months later, he took his own life. After he died, I was utterly heartbroken because his beautiful heart, mind and talent were lost to the world and his loved ones forever; and because I had not seen the signs or been able to help. One of the first things he said to me after his sacking (which neither of us could really account for) was: ‘They’ve taken my dream away from me’ – so, my version of ‘helping’ was to leap into busy mode and try and ‘fix’ his pain by forming a new band around him and planning a record to start the process of rebuilding his musical dream. After he died, I blamed myself for being too consumed with forming the new band at the expense of just being still with him during the intense period of grief and loss he was experiencing. I also regretted not showing stronger leadership overall because I lost the friendship of the other band members and their partners throughout the ordeal as well. I didn’t handle things with any skill at all, and I let others and myself down in the process. Even my marriage fell apart as a direct result of my grief and (selfdescribed) poor handling of the situation. I stopped going to gigs; I didn’t want to face anyone in the scene; and I just worked in the factory by day and drank more than I should at night. This went on for about 18 months until I absolutely knew things had to change. Some years earlier, my departed friend was watching me in action at a gig sorting out a whole bunch of different people and issues (like police cars blocking access to load-in bays, equipment and merchandise that had gone missing, overzealous security personnel, squabbles between sound engineers and so it went on).

4    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I remember him laughing and saying, ‘Dude, you’re like a white Oprah, you should be a social worker’. Sometime after his death, when the fog started lifting, I recalled him saying this and half-seriously thought about pursuing it, but social work was a university gig (and therefore out of my league); so, I started thinking about something more realistic, like a Certificate III in Youth Work at TAFE.1 I’d been volunteering at a local youth drop-in centre some nights after work to keep myself busy and I thought, ‘Yeah, I can see myself umpiring basketball and breaking up fights for a living’. So, I made the big decision and applied to go to TAFE, only to get a rejection letter stating that my ‘education levels did not suggest I could manage the assessment requirements’ (I remember it verbatim and will never forget). I applied a second time and attached an indignant letter pointing out that my ‘straight A’ record from primary school suggested I could manage the assessment requirements. A second rejection letter followed. I spent the second half of 2004 researching my options and discovered I could sit a Special Tertiary Admissions Test to gain entry to university. I took the test and I smashed it with a really high score; so, I enrolled in a Bachelor of Social Work (at age 38) and I tailored every single assessment around researching and writing on youth issues, framing the social work degree as an opportunity to make my own damn youth work qualification (given the TAFE Certificate in Youth Work was well out of reach). My special interests were around youth transitions in high poverty contexts; thus, when I finished with a Grade Point Average of 6.7/7 and was invited to join the Honours programme (reading this TAFE assessors?), I designed and undertook a qualitative study around the effects of housing tenure on school engagement. I smashed that too, achieving a first-class result and being awarded an Australian Postgraduate Award to undertake doctoral studies. The examiners’ reports on my Honours thesis commended the innovation in my work and applauded my ‘discovery’ of such an important research focus that wasn’t being addressed elsewhere, so it made perfect sense that I would expand the pilot Honours study and undertake doctoral research at the intersection of housing and youth transitions. I had the ideas, the encouragement, the scholarship, the methodology, the research questions, industry support and access to a sample. I was all set to go. After an early academic supervision session to discuss my ideas, I jumped in my car to leave the university, hit ‘play’ on the sound system and headed for home (I remember The Blackening by Machine Head was playing). But then, I remember sitting at the traffic lights, still thinking about youth transitions (fresh from my supervision session), when I fatefully wondered (in daydream mode) how young metalheads might be getting on in the world today – at home, at school, finding work and so on. What could have been a fleeting thought rapidly developed obsessive properties until there was no escaping the call. As much as I didn’t want to be the clichéd ageing metalhead undertaking metal research (and well before I knew anything about the field of metal studies emerging around that time), I was

1

TAFE stands for Technical and Further Education. TAFE institutions in Australia are akin to what international readers might know as a type of community college.

Introduction    5 being hounded by research questions that I couldn’t ignore. I was fast realising that I was in a privileged position to be able to investigate these questions. In a matter of days, my research focus changed completely and I knew I was going ‘home’ to do my doctoral research. I think it’s worth mentioning my rather abrupt segue from housing research to metal research upfront because Bennett (2002) has argued that ‘insider research’, that is, the research conducted by those inhabiting the same cultural space as the researched, can be characteristic of novice researchers who perhaps feel more comfortable and passionate about investigating things they are familiar with (and he goes on to point out some methodological concerns with this that I revisit and address in the final section of this chapter). On face value, I might well fit Bennett’s mould of a metalhead undertaking doctoral research in a metal comfort zone; but, it was never on my radar to do so until I realised that there were important questions to ask metal youth that had much bigger implications for the field of youth studies if we were to learn something new about the interplay between subculture2 and developmental trajectories. It all feels a bit weird to be introducing this book with my own personal journey, but others have pointed out to me that it’s an important part of the story that I ought to share with readers. I certainly didn’t have my own story in mind when I began the research, but I started to learn a lot more about myself (and my motivations in life) from the metal youth I worked with over the course of the study. I was recognising parts of my own story in theirs, good and bad and maybe other metal readers will too.

Positioning My Research Approach As I mentioned, the first thoughts that brought me to this research were a set of general wonderings about how young metalheads were faring at home, at school, finding work and more. I also stated that my research training and interests were in the field of youth transitions, a term often used interchangeably in the youth literature as social transitions, or simply shortened to transitions: In simple terms, youth transitions can be understood as the pathways that young people make as they leave school and encounter different labour market, housing and family-related experiences as they progress toward adulthood. (MacDonald & Marsh, 2005, p. 31) The backbone of transitions studies has long been a focus on school-to-work transitions with obvious implications for economic participation and an ability to live a good life. But, the idea that some sort of linear pathway from school-towork exists has come under fire for overlooking the more ‘round-a-bout’ nature 2

In academic circles, ‘subculture’ is what Haenfler (2010, p. 5) calls a ‘muddy concept’ that has sparked intense scholarly debate around what it actually means, and how useful it remains as a conceptual tool. I am deliberately side-stepping the subculture/post-culture arguments, and using ‘subculture’ throughout this book as a lay-term to depict any social subgroup that is distinguishable by particular values, beliefs, symbols, styles and practices common to that group.

6    Heavy Metal Youth Identities of contemporary youth transitions. Now, we more commonly see young people transitioning in-and-out of education and work, in-and-out of the family home, in-and-out of optimal health, in-and-out of social and intimate relationships and so on. There is an extensive body of youth studies literature that examines the complex and protracted nature of contemporary transitions, and I get to see firsthand how all of this is playing out when I’m working directly with young people. What I’m also privy to is an awful lot of self-talk (and self-labelling) from young people about where to ‘set the bar’ in life in terms of what they think they can achieve, or who they can become. Because of this, I’ve become interested in looking at youth transitions through a lens of identity self-talk. I’m always keen to know more about how young people form certain beliefs about themselves; how social dynamics, structures and relationships can shape their self-talk; and how the quality (or factual basis) of their self-talk can either help or hinder their decision making at critical transition points in their young lives. When I first began designing the research informing this book, I was working in high schools located in areas of deeply entrenched socio-economic disadvantage. I was exploring the stories students were telling themselves about ‘who they were, and what they could or should do with their lives’, and trying to learn more about who or what was shaping their aspirational biographies (or self-talk). So, when I started formulating the ‘metal’ research questions, it excited me to continue exploring youth aspirations and transitions through a lens of identity formations, but with an additional layer of metal identity selftalk going on. It is important to re-state my positioning here as a critical social worker because my research background is not in cultural studies; it is in applied social research that seeks to make positive social change for young people. So, on one hand, I’m very much concerned about the social and economic structuring of youth transitions; but, I’m also fascinated by ways that youth culture plays out in transitional contexts. Positioning my research, therefore, took some figuring out for me because youth culture and youth transitions have historically been entirely separate fields of youth studies, as MacDonald et al. (2001) point out: The bifurcation of youth studies can be exemplified by two texts published in the early 1990s. Careers and Identities (Banks et al., 1992), was the main volume to emerge from the ESRC’s ‘16 to 19 Initiative’ and is firmly in the transitions camp. Redhead’s (1993) Rave Off! Politics and Deviance in Contemporary Youth Culture was the first in the new wave of youth cultural studies. Despite being published at the same ‘moment’ and sharing a focus on young people in Britain neither seemed to be in the least interested in the other’s topics. Reading these books side by side one might imagine that the cultural and leisure lives of young people, as described by Redhead, were wholly detached from their lives as young workers, trainees, college students or the young unemployed, as described by Banks et al. (and vice versa). (MacDonald et al., 2001, paragraph 2.7)

Introduction    7 It seems clear to me that unless we can learn to integrate cultural and transitional perspectives, we will keep missing the ‘bigger picture’ of what contemporary social life is like for different groups of young people. For example, Furlong, Woodman and Wyn (2011) point out that degrees of social change can be exaggerated by cultural perspectives if an interest in the economic sphere of life is not included. They argue that it is essential to remain aware of economic continuities otherwise ‘we risk the diversity of lifestyles blinding us to the substantial predictabilities of social life’ (p. 357). Conversely, the authors caution that underestimating youth culture paints a one-dimensional picture of young lives that lacks awareness of the ways young people ‘interpret, construct and shape their lives within a given set of circumstances’ (Furlong et al., 2011, p. 357). As a youth worker as well as a parent, I see the lengths that young people go to in order to show us how important their subcultural affiliations are: by the ways they dress, their practices, their hair styling, body modifications and more. So, if subcultural identities are that important (and obviously, they are), it makes complete sense (to me) to try to learn more about how subcultural identities intersect with other aspects of social life. Specifically, I was interested to know why young people might choose the heavy metal subculture in the first place, and what role(s) metal might then play in shaping self-talk and decision making when metal youth find themselves at any number of crossroads in their young lives. But, from a research stand point, taking on metal is not like taking on other youth cultures because we have some serious social and political baggage to contend with, which I outline next.

1.2 What We ‘Know’ about Metal Youth, and Ways that We ‘Know’ it It was clear I had burning research questions developing, but first I needed to know what previous studies had to say about young metalheads so that I could widen my understanding and focus my research questions. In this section, I summarise some of the key literature on metal youth, but first I highlight some of the social and political factors (and issues of political timing) that have had a lot to do with shaping the tone and agenda for a lot (if not most) of the studies I critically reviewed. As Weinstein (2000) points out: Heavy metal music is a controversial subject that stimulates visceral rather than intellectual reactions in both its partisans and its detractors. Many people hold that heavy metal music, along with drugs and promiscuous sex, proves that some parts of youth culture have gone beyond acceptable limits. To many of its detractors heavy metal embodies a shameless attack on the central values of Western civilization. But to its fans it is the greatest music ever made. (p. 3) In short, metal has polarised people for much of its history spanning for more than 50 years. The traditions of moral outrage against metal have already been well-documented by others (for two exemplars see Kahn-Harris, 2007;

8    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Weinstein, 2000), but I briefly revisit this here because it sets the context for understanding what we already ‘know’ about metal youth and the ways that we ‘know’ it. Further, tracing the history of biased and stereotypical accounts of metal youth demonstrates why my narrative study capturing the lived experiences of metal youth in their own words was long overdue.

The Social Disapproval of Metal: History and Consequences Anyone associated with metal would be hard pressed not to bring Black Sabbath right upfront in any discussion about the history of metal. And I will too, but not because of the band’s musical legacy and its role in the birth of heavy metal as a musical genre; rather, for singer Ozzy Osbourne’s contributions to shocking mainstream audiences and ‘proving’ that metal people are completely off the rails of acceptable behaviour. In 1981, Osborne strengthened the growing public disapproval of metal with his infamous stunt of biting a dove’s head off while in a meeting with record executives to promote his solo career. This and other highly publicised events – like the 1990 court appearance of Judas Priest to face accusations that the band’s music encouraged two young men to shoot themselves – were pivotal in setting the scene for a groundswell of negative hype surrounding metal music and culture. (Note: there was no evidence to support the lawsuit against Judas Priest and the case was dismissed.) In 1985, the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC) initiated a US Senate hearing into the lyrical content of heavy metal (and rap) music. The PMRC hearing (as it became better known) fanned the flames of growing public unrest around metal; according to Weinstein (2000), the hearing ‘provided a platform for, and bestowed a legitimacy on, the fundamentalist positions against rock, and especially against heavy metal’ (p. 249). Conservative detractors gave their personal opinions on metal (masked as ‘expert’ testimony) that went on to become a matter of public record linking heavy metal lyrics to suicide ideation, violence, perversion, rape, substance misuse and poor mental health – despite any evidence to support this. Metal was characterised throughout the hearing as ‘outrageous filth’ portraying and glorifying rape, incest, sexual violence, perversion and suicide (Weinstein, 2000, pp. 249–250). Susan Baker, wife of Treasury Secretary James Baker, testified that rock artists actually seemed, in her opinion, to encourage teen suicide (Weinstein, 2000, p. 250) [my emphasis]. In fact, suicide became a key focus of the hearings and the PMRC put forward their (mis)interpretation of Ozzy Osbourne’s lyrics in the song Suicide Solution as a prime example of how dangerous metal lyrics can be for encouraging suicide. Weinstein (2000) details the actual meaning of the song’s lyrics in-depth in her book Heavy Metal: The Music and its Culture (she also unpacks the play on words in the song’s title) and makes a compelling argument that the PMRC got their interpretation very wrong because the song is actually about Ozzy’s fight with alcoholism. In any case, the hearings were broadcast to the general public and the damage (for metal) was done – the conservative opinions and moral objections given at the hearing became a matter of (unsubstantiated) ‘proof’ that metal was extremely

Introduction    9 dangerous, especially for young people. For example, Weinstein (2000, p. 251) points out that the misinterpretation of Suicide Solution became ‘conventional wisdom in public discourse’ after the hearing and has been regularly referred to over the years by moral crusaders. Five years after the hearing, the Catholic Archbishop of New York cited the song as an example of ‘heavy metal music spiked with satanic lyrics’ that disposed listeners to ‘devil worship and demonic possession’ (Weinstein, 2000, p. 251). Coupled with the ‘expert’ testimony given at the senate hearings, this shows the very poor level of argument and evidence that has repeatedly been served up to ‘prove’ that heavy metal is in a causal relationship with violence and suicide. But, heavy metal artists were not the only metal associates coming under social, moral and legal scrutiny. In 1992, 22-year-old Cameron Todd Willingham was arrested and charged with murder after the deaths of his three young children in a house fire in Corsicana, Texas. Grann (2009, np) reported that the evidence responsible for ultimately sending Willingham to his death by lethal injection consisted of: the factually incorrect reporting of accelerant usage and fire patterns; the (unsubstantiated) testimony of a fellow inmate who made a deal with prosecutors for a reduced sentence in his own legal matters; and the testimony of Tim Gregory who provided the following statement to support the prosecution’s claim that Willingham fits the profile of a sociopath: At one point, Jackson showed Gregory Exhibit No. 60 – a photograph of an Iron Maiden poster that had hung in Willingham’s house – and asked the psychologist to interpret it. “This one is a picture of a skull, with a fist being punched through the skull,” Gregory said; the image displayed “violence” and “death.” Gregory looked at photographs of other music posters owned by Willingham. “There’s a hooded skull, with wings and a hatchet,” Gregory continued. “And all of these are in fire, depicting – it reminds me of something like Hell. And there’s a picture – a Led Zeppelin picture of a falling angel… I see there’s an association many times with cultive-type of activities. A focus on death, dying. Many times individuals that have a lot of this type of art have interest in satanic-type activities. (Grann, 2009, np) Tim Gregory was a psychologist with a Master’s degree in marriage and family practice; he had no expertise in sociopathic behaviour and was only giving his personal interpretation of an Iron Maiden poster as ‘evidence’ that Willingham might have an interest in ‘satanic-type activities’. He had no first-hand knowledge of Willingham, but he was a friend of John Jackson, the assistant district attorney in Corsicana and lead prosecutor on the case. Willingham steadfastly refused to take a plea bargain to avoid the death penalty and protested his innocence up to his execution in 2004. Willingham was not the only person to spend time on death row based on ‘expert’ views that sociopathic tendencies are associated with metal preferences.

10    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Damien Echols, Jessie Misskelley Jr. and Jason Baldwin, known collectively as the West Memphis Three, were three teenagers tried and convicted in 1994 of murdering three boys in the woods near their rural Arkansas home deep in the heartland of America’s Christian ‘Bible Belt’ region. According to Hickam (2015, p. 9), the teens were ‘demonized for their interests in heavy metal music, black clothing, and long hair’ which reflected the societal prejudices against metal since the PMRC’s campaign to associate metal with Satanism, immorality and violence. In the weeks following the murders, the media reported that the deaths were part of a ‘Satanic ritual performed by occult worshippers’ (John, 2013, np). The teens were arrested one month after the murders despite no physical evidence linking them to the crimes (John, 2013, np): At their subsequent trial, evidence introduced by the prosecution included the fact that Echols wore Metallica T-shirts and read Stephen King novels. Echols had an alibi for the time of the murders – he was at home with his grandmother, mother and sister, not to mention that he had made phone calls to three different people that evening. “That didn’t matter to the jury” he says. “The local media had run so many stories about Satanic orgies and human sacrifices that by the time we walked into that courtroom the jury saw the trial as nothing more than a formality. It was over before we even walked in”. (John, 2013, np) The suspects were all found guilty despite the absence of physical evidence, the deliberate omission of evidence pointing to another suspect, and the disruption of a fair trial by media stories circulating about the trio (John, 2013, np). After 18 years and many appeals processes (served on death row by Echols who survived an execution date in 1994), the West Memphis Three were finally released in 2011 after they entered ‘Alford Pleas’, a judicial process that allowed them to assert their innocence, but acknowledge that prosecutors had enough evidence to convict them (John, 2013, np). (Essentially providing for their release while concomitantly protecting the judicial system from wrongful conviction claims.) These two ‘trial by media’ events are examples of how the campaign against metal gathered momentum throughout the latter half of the 1980s. And importantly, it shows this was much more than a superficial stereotyping of metal, this type of stereotyping was serious and consequential. Willingham lost his life and the West Memphis Three lost 18 years of their lives in prison (and would undoubtedly suffer the consequences of this ordeal throughout the rest of their lives). Interestingly, Geraldo Rivera’s documentary Devil Worship: Exposing Satan’s Underground (1988) pre-dates the above-mentioned trials. Rivera set out to make links between metal, murder and Satanism by highlighting several murders carried out by young people with links to devil-worshipping, who also happened to like heavy-metal music. Causality was implied throughout Rivera’s programme, but there was no evidence to prove that metal music had played any part in planning or carrying out the murders. Rather than investigating the perpetrators’ individual circumstances and the contexts in which they committed the crimes,

Introduction    11 Rivera relied on sensational accounts of blood drinking and human sacrifice to fuel the ‘Satanic Panic’ that was sweeping the United States at that time. It would not be difficult to imagine Rivera’s programme having a significant impact on the media reporting (if not the trial itself) of Echols and co, or influencing the testimony given by Gregory in Willingham’s trial. High-profile cases of mass shootings in the United States have also fuelled social efforts to attribute relationships between metal music and violent crimes. For example, metal was back in the media spotlight following the shootings at Columbine High School in 1999 (even though the shooters were not metalheads) because all school ‘outcasts’ came under scrutiny (Griffith, 2010, p. 408), and metalheads were put forward by media commentators as prime examples of ‘outsiders’ and ‘loners’ in school settings. Moral panics sell newspapers and provide palatable explanations for social ills (Crichter, 2006; Goode & Ben-Yehuda, 2009). Scapegoating is far more convenient than looking at the messy and complex business of life in general: it is especially convenient for reinforcing a climate of risk and fear while deflecting attention away from conditions of social inequality, emotional hardship and patterns of disadvantage that can negatively affect young people’s development and mental health. However, I don’t discount or trivialise that some young people who listen to metal have committed violent crimes (and other types of music of course). My bigger point here is that the media prefer to narrowly report on metal (and other youth culture) preferences, rather than paying due attention to the social and family contexts that give rise to behaviours and circumstances. As well as the ‘news’ media outlined above, pop culture has also played a role in reinforcing public opinions of metal youth as deviant and undesirable. One example of this was when the teenage character of Anthony Soprano (in primetime television drama The Sopranos) began to disengage from school and disconnect from family life, and generally started getting into trouble. Young Anthony’s downward spiral to becoming a ‘bad kid’ was symbolically gestured to viewers with an all-new wardrobe of heavy metal apparel to replace his ‘good kid’ clothes. A more ‘humorous’ stereotyping (or lampooning) of metalheads has also been evident in numerous pop-culture products, which include: the characters Beavis and Butthead (television series; feature film; comic books; and music videos spanning 1993–2011), Wayne and Garth (Wayne’s World Saturday Night Live sketch 1989–2011; two feature films 1992 and 1993), Bill and Ted (two feature films 1989 and 1991; two television series; spin-off video games and comic books) and Jay and Silent Bob (seven movies; comic books; television series spanning 1994–2013). To highlight just one example of Beavis and Butthead, the title characters are depicted as socially awkward delinquents who rarely attend school and prefer to stay home watching metal videos and wearing metal T-shirts: They have no apparent adult supervision at home, are dim-witted, under-educated, and barely literate, and they both lack any empathy or moral scruples, even regarding each other. Their most common shared activity is watching music videos, which they tend to judge by deeming them ‘cool,’ or by claiming, ‘This sucks!’. (Wikipedia)

12    Heavy Metal Youth Identities It is interesting to note that this description of Beavis and Butthead contains the themes of low educational attainment, dissatisfaction with schooling and lack of parental engagement and control – and these are also the themes that conspicuously align with conceptual frames often applied to academic studies of metal youth (by non-metal scholars). We can see that metal is in a complicated relationship with the media, politics and academic research, and we will see clearer patterns of this in the research literatures that I critically examine next.

Previous Studies of Metal Youth In short, there is no cohesive body of literature that addresses early metal preferences and/or the role(s) metal might play during the youth phase. Instead, there is a rather disjointed body of literature on metal youth strung together on common attempts to ‘prove’ that metal is a problem for positive youth development, or at least symptomatic of poor developmental trajectories (for several examples of many, see Lacourse, Claes, & Villeneuve, 2001; Scheel & Westefeld, 1999; Schwartz & Fouts, 2003; Selfhout, Delsing, ter Bogt, & Meeus, 2008; Stack, Gundlach, & Reeves 1994; ter Bogt, Keijsers, & Meeus, 2013). My early academic database searches using the keywords of ‘heavy metal’ and ‘youth’ turned up a plethora of articles addressing the ‘problem of metal’ that were generally assembled around mental health issues, suicide ideation, problem behaviours and low educational attainment or poor school commitment. When conducting a similar literature search, Baker and B. Brown (2016) also found a host of narrowly defined psychiatric and psychological frames through which metal fans were typically viewed as ‘somehow vulnerable, or socially and morally compromised’ by researchers and clinicians practising with young people (p. 3). Research literature that pathologises metal preferences tends to emanate from large-scale quantitative studies that do not explore the social contexts in which metal preferences are formed (the wider problem of assigning pathological labels outside of their human contexts is examined in detail by Guerin, 2017). According to A. R. Brown (2011), academic psychology has a history of responding quickly to socially constructed ‘problems’ that command mainstream attention (and/or get on the media radar). Brown further argues that research funding is more likely to be awarded to researchers investigating such problems and advising solutions, rather than ‘social scientists who seek funding for work that questions the ideological basis of such constructions’ (p. 224). When writing on moral panics and video gaming, Ferguson (2013) similarly argued that ‘it is much more difficult to secure grant funding by arguing that something isn’t a pressing social concern’ (p. 68) [original emphasis]. From this, a clear picture starts to emerge around the complex but fruitful relationship between the media, politics, dominant culture and research agendas. It seems fear mongering is a good business model – if you’re in the business of selling papers or attracting research funding. As I’ve stated (and Baker and B. Brown confirmed above), there is a great deal of literature that investigates metal and youth developmental outcomes from different angles of psychopathology. I will highlight some of these works

Introduction    13 at various points throughout this book where my results mount a challenge to their findings, but a key piece of research to discuss upfront here is the study informing Arnett’s (1996) book entitled Metalheads: Heavy Metal Music and Adolescent Alienation. Arnett’s book is an important reference point for my work because his findings have had a tremendous influence on subsequent studies of metal youth by non-metal scholars. This is quite a problem because not only is his study outdated, but his methodology and research tone (leading to his findings that have been so often cited) are somewhat questionable; particularly, his openly deficit views of metal and young metal fans, and apparent exploitation of public concerns about metal: In many ways, Arnett’s study effectively buys into and exploits a wave of public anxiety in the USA concerning teenagers’ interest in heavy metal music, an anxiety fuelled by several high profile court cases during the early 1990s against heavy metal artists whose songs, it was claimed, had been responsible for a series of teenage suicides. (Bennett, 2002, p. 459) Whereas right-wing groups saw metal as inherently dangerous, Arnett suggested that heavy metal was a symptom of disturbing alienation among US youth. While Arnett’s conclusions do not lead him to recommend censorship, his work still represents a view held widely by both left- and right-wing observers – that heavy metal cannot in and of itself be worthwhile. (KahnHarris, 2007, p. 27) Looking deeper into Kahn-Harris’ above-mentioned point, Arnett’s devaluation of metal is indeed clear at numerous points throughout his book. His dislike of metal is declared in the opening pages of his book (Arnett, 1996, p. ix), which is completely fair enough, but the judgemental and value-laden descriptions of metal youth starts to become a real research concern that endures throughout the book. For example, male participants who did not fit Arnett’s preconceived stereotype of the ‘scruffy looking, sneering, apathetic’ metalhead (p. ix) were referred to as ‘nicely groomed, likable and articulate’ (p. 59) and ‘handsome and well dressed with short, simply styled hair’ (p. 111). Arnett also offered his subjective opinions about women attending metal concerts. His descriptions of young women in the crowd included: being dressed in ‘neoprostitute style’, being ‘laden with makeup’ and wearing clothing that was ‘downright obscene’ (p. 9). He also reported that one girl had a ‘blank, addled look on her face’ (p. 9); yet, he was not privy to what pre-empted the look on her face and did not know anything about her circumstances that might have led to having a particular look on her face (if he did, he did not report this). Moreover, he did not describe what look he considered she ought to have on her face for him to regard it as ‘normal’. To be clear, it is totally fine for a researcher to not like metal, but questions arise for me around ethical data construction when personal, normative and judgemental views play a

14    Heavy Metal Youth Identities strong (and unexamined) role in the research relationship. (Later in this chapter, I discuss my own role in data construction and the mitigation strategies I took to limit bias.) Further concerns (for data construction) are evident in Arnett’s research design; including the following negatively framed summary profile questions: Participants were asked, “How many times in the past year have you…” ⦁⦁ Driven a car under the influence of alcohol. ⦁⦁ Driven a car over 80 miles per hour. ⦁⦁ Driven a car greater than 20 mph over the speed limit. ⦁⦁ Had sex without contraception. ⦁⦁ Had sex with someone not known well. ⦁⦁ Used marijuana. ⦁⦁ Used cocaine. ⦁⦁ Used illegal drugs other than marijuana or cocaine. ⦁⦁ Damaged or destroyed public or private property. ⦁⦁ Shoplifted. There was no list of positively framed counter-questions. Further, the face-to-face interviews ended with Question 31: ‘What’s the most reckless/ wild/­dangerous thing you’ve ever done? Describe the episode’ (Arnett, 1996, p. 170). Again, no positive counter-question such as: ‘What’s the most positive/­ satisfying/beneficial thing you’ve ever done? Describe the episode’. In his critique of youth-culture-research methodologies, Bennett (2002) also argued that Arnett’s deliberate construction of biographical accounts couched in deficit terms effectively produced a ‘decidedly forced account of heavy metal’s sociocultural significance’ (p. 459). The final methodological concern to raise is that Arnett (1996) recruited a comparison group of non-metal counterparts in his study and reported the findings as ‘statistically significant’ (p. 171); however, he did not interview the comparison group. Instead, he refashioned some of the interview questions into a questionnaire containing multiple-choice questions and some open-ended questions providing space for written responses. Also, the metalhead sample was recruited through music stores and included early school leavers; whereas, the non-metalhead comparison group was recruited through local high schools and from Arnett’s own college classes that he was teaching. It is highly questionable whether different methods and different sample origins can produce ‘statistically significant’ comparison results, especially when reporting on school commitment and educational attainment by comparing responses from early school leavers with those of college students.

So, What Do We Know about the Transitions and Aspirations of Metal Youth? While not expressed in the language of youth transitions or aspirations that I use throughout this book, researchers (including Arnett) have investigated metal

Introduction    15 preferences and transitional outcomes (to a degree), but have done so through deficit conceptualisations of low educational attainment, poor school commitment and school ‘failure’. Arnett (1996, p. 121) speculated that metalheads fail at school largely because of their ‘high sensation needs’ and low impulse control. He asserted that their ‘high sensation needs’ made it difficult to endure the structure and regimentation of schooling; hence, ‘they fail at school because they dislike it’ (p. 121). He further speculated that metalheads do not learn impulse control and self-restraint at home from parents who encourage free expression, making it even more difficult to cope in the structured school environment (p. 121). Keith Roe was another early pioneer of investigating metal preferences and educational outcomes. He repeatedly emphasised the importance of school commitment as an explanatory variable in relation to musical preference (1992, 1993, 1995). Roe (1992) concluded that although the (correlative) relationship between school achievement and metal preferences was weak, a high dissatisfaction with schooling was strongly correlated to metal preferences and that heavy metal was liked more by students who we not envisioning to stay at school to complete their education (p. 347). In short, he argued that a taste for heavy metal was ‘characteristic of very discontented, low-achieving, mostly male students from working-class backgrounds’, and that ‘the best predictor variable is students’ level of satisfaction at school’ (p. 351). According to Roe (1992), metal youth anticipate bleaker futures than their non-metal counterparts thus limiting their educational aspirations. To understand this better, he suggested that greater attention ought to be paid to their subjectively perceived futures (p. 353). ‘Subjectively perceived futures’ sounds like aspiration biographies to me; yet, Roe’s idea of pursuing this line of enquiry went unnoticed for more than 20 years until I picked this up in my research (albeit through a different channel). Roe also proposed that some students experiencing damaged self-esteem at school might switch their loyalty from school and parents to alternative peer group activities, and that: […] membership of valued peer groups and subcultures then becomes a first line of defence against threats to self-esteem emanating from other institutions and social experiences, and makes possible the construction of an alternative positive identity. (Roe, 1995, p. 622) While Roe raised the idea of metal as an alternate ‘positive’ identity, again, others did not pick up his ideas in subsequent youth-specific research. (To be fair, Arnett’s results have also been ‘used’ rather selectively in youth research environments; others have not explored his underplayed statements about positive aspects of listening to metal, or his commentary on the impacts of individualisation on youth development in a changing modernity.) In their large-scale quantitative study of the determinants and lifestyle correlates of musical preferences among high school students, Tanner, Asbridge, and

16    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Wortley (2008) drew heavily on Roe’s work (1983, 1992, 1993, 1995, 1999) to frame their argument that higher levels of academic achievement, educational ambition and cultural capital lead to preferences for ‘adult approved socially respectable musical genres’, and conversely, that ‘academic under-achievement and modest educational plans and lack of cultural capital will result in a preference for musical forms that school, and the adult world, disapproves of and devalues’ (p. 123). They foreshadowed their research by stating that: Students from more humble backgrounds, students who perform less well in school, who have only modest educational plans, and are low in cultural capital will, we predict, involve themselves in more oppositional and univorous musical genres. Previous research suggests that hard rock, particularly heavy metal, will be their choice. We see no reason why this tradition should not be continuing among the present generation of low achievers and rebels. (Tanner et al., 2008, p. 124) Drawing again on Roe (1983, 1992, 1994), the authors further argued that students with suppressed educational ambition prefer heavy metal and that musical preferences and occupational expectations were similarly linked: Adolescents who envisage high status as adults prepare for that outcome by aligning themselves with the cultural traits they believe are most appropriate for their future status destination – a process that happens in reverse for heavy metal fans. (Tanner et al., 2008, p. 119) There is, of course, a very normative assumption here that all young people are, or ought to be, constructing long-term views of their futures, which overlooks the possibility that some young people might simply be trying to survive school one day at a time for a range of reasons. The school measures utilised by Tanner et al. (2008) were described as ‘educational attainment, experiences, and expectations; self-reported grades, skipping school, suspension from school, and educational stream’ (p. 125). It is not clear what the authors meant by ‘experiences’, but the content of the article suggests that the focus was on educational experiences with curriculum matters – a focus that was unable to capture the significance of relational factors at school that might influence educational attainment, such as bullying, peer networks, and status in the social order among peers. When the authors did discuss peers, it was in terms of leisure pursuits within peer groups, which excluded the interactional experiences of young people who did not belong to a peer group; in other words, the peer-interaction experiences of ‘outsiders’ or ‘loners’ in the school setting. In the metal context, this would seem highly important given the routine positioning of metalheads (by themselves or others) as ‘outsiders’ in school environments (as we will see in Chapter 2).

Introduction    17 This is quite significant because Tanner et al. (2008, p. 134) found that musical preferences appeared to be more related to the educational domain than the familial one; yet, their investigation only examined musical preferences in the context of educational attainment rather than exploring school experiences holistically, thus limiting our understanding of relationships within the whole-of-school environment and metal preferences. Ultimately, the authors did not find support for their prediction that heavy metal fans would be low achievers and concluded that young metal fans were ‘competent students, though relatively unenthusiastic ones’ (Tanner et al., 2008, p. 138). A pertinent line of enquiry might then have been to investigate students’ diminished enthusiasm by exploring the biographical construction of their aspirations, and investigating the fullness of what was going on in their lives that might have brought about a lack of enthusiasm. In a further twist, Cadwallader’s (2007) mixed-methods study of more than 1,000 academically ‘gifted’ students found that 36% of high-achieving respondents ranked heavy metal in their top five preferred musical styles. He cautiously interpreted his results to suggest that: Perhaps the pressures associated with being gifted and talented can be temporarily dissipated with the aid of the music, which could explain its somewhat surprising popularity within the sample […] perhaps individuals, particularly gifted ones who may experience more pressure than their peers or perhaps be more aware of the contradictions in the world (as suggested by their appreciation of politically charged heavy metal lyrics), just feel ‘metalheady’ from time to time and they use the music to fulfil their need to purge this negative affect. (Cadwallader, 2007, p. 11) Although Cadwallader’s study opens some more positive channels for looking at metal preferences and educational attainment, there a several things to note. First, he points out that most of the respondents ranking metal highly used the music infrequently and did not embody metal identities or signal any sort of belonging to the metal subculture (hence, the comment about feeling ‘metalheady’ from time to time – as it stood, only 6% of respondents ranked metal preferences at number one). Because of this, Cadwallader (2007) emphasised that his results didn’t offer ‘coherent evidence to suggest that individuals with low self-esteem will align themselves with a youth culture or that they will evaluate this youth culture more highly than other groups in order to alleviate negative affect’ (p. 13). However, he did assert that future research would benefit from investigating if and how gifted students might use musical preference to define in-group and out-group, and whether their favouritism for either group is mediated by self-esteem or other domains of self-concept, which could tell us if music preferences contribute to the social identities of gifted students. In conclusion, Cadwallader (2007) argued that his findings were at least able to ‘contradict the stereotypes of both the gifted adolescent as a classical music

18    Heavy Metal Youth Identities loving, isolated individual, and the heavy metal fan as a troubled individual that rejects academic life’ (p. 13).

The Research ‘Problem’, and What to Do about it… To this point, I have outlined the research ‘problems’ of biased and stereotypical accounts of metal youth; a reluctance (or refusal) to holistically investigate the contexts in which early metal preferences are formed; and a lot of speculation about metal youth being low-achievers and not aspiring to much in life (despite Cadwallader’s moves towards challenging this). Against the backdrop of these mostly negative accounts of metal youth and the pathologising of metal preferences, I need to mention the emergence and growth of the transdisciplinary field of metal studies which, particularly over the last decade, has steadily induced an academic shift towards more sympathetic views of metal and metal fandom; perhaps, due to an influx of heavy metal fans who have progressed to becoming academic researchers themselves, as well as established scholars who have ‘come out’ as heavy metal fans (Brown, 2011, p. 217). As an academic field, metal studies was consolidated in 2008 when the inaugural Music Metal and Politics conference brought metal scholars together from around the globe creating networks and opportunities for international communication and collaboration – prior to this time, there had been ‘studies of metal’, but not ‘metal studies’ (Hickam, 2015, p. 9). Counter to the long-standing deficit approaches to studying metal, metal scholars have been exploring some of the more positive aspects and allure of metal music, identities and community formations (for some examples of this see Foster, 2011; Riches & Spracklen, 2014; Snell & Hodgetts, 2007; Varas-Diaz, Rivera-Segarra, Rivera Medina, Mendoza, & Gonzales-Sepulveda, 2015; VarasDiaz & Scott, 2016; Wallach, Berger, & Greene, 2011). In describing the shift (by metal scholars) towards more positively framed investigations of metal, VarasDiaz et al. (2015) state that: This type of research has begun to challenge the existing literature that seemed to focus almost exclusively on heavy metal music as a risk factor. It has evidenced that the linkages between music consumption and risk are more complex than initially expected (sometimes non-existent) and even highlighted the positive implications of involvement in scenarios where heavy metal music is produced and consumed. (p. 90) Much of the metal studies literature to date, however, provides information on established metalheads rather than early recruitment into the metal subculture or young people’s biographic constructions of becoming metal. Young people have undoubtedly participated in many studies of metal fandom, but the foci of the investigations have not been youth-specific (Rowe, 2017b). An exception to this was Larsson’s (2013) qualitative study of subjective and inter-subjective constructions of being an ‘authentic’ metal fan. Larsson (2013, pp. 100–102)

Introduction    19 reported that her participants’ biographies of authenticity were underscored by a long-term dedication to metal preferences dating back to early teen years (or childhood) that evoked positive constructions of an idealised self. Further, her participants reported the tremendous importance of metal in their young lives (Larsson 2013, p. 100); however, they were not able to provide much detail around why it became so important in the context of their everyday lives (beyond general statements such as ‘always being able to count on metal no matter how lonely and betrayed your friends have made you feel’ (p. 100). To this end, I set out to build on some of these more positive lines of inquiry by generating, from a youth studies frame, some insights around the processes of early recruitment into the metal subculture, and the everyday contexts in which early metal identities are biographically constructed. We know that metal youth love all things metal, but empirical evidence showing why young people sign up for metal in the first place, and what they get out of doing so, remains almost non-existent. We also don’t know what it’s like navigating the journey to adulthood as a young metalhead in today’s world. To address these gaps in what we know about metal youth, I set out to investigate the following questions: ⦁⦁ What aspects of metal music and culture do young people find alluring, and

why do they take on the mantle of metaldom?

⦁⦁ What benefits do young people perceive to gain from forming metal identities? ⦁⦁ How are metal youth faring in post-school environments; and what shapes

their aspirations, and the pathways they take, at various transition points in their young lives?

In the following (and final) section of this chapter, I will detail my research approach to finding these things out directly from metal youth.

1.3 The Research Insider Research Before I detail the research design and methodology that ultimately served to ‘answer’ my research questions, I revisit the notion of ‘insider’ research so I can address the ‘metal elephant’ in the room. I made my own metal identity known in the opening pages of this book but it’s important to examine what that means for this research, because being a metalhead placed me squarely ‘inside’ the cultural group I was investigating. But in some ways, I wasn’t strictly an insider because: at the time I wasn’t regularly participating in the local scene; I didn’t know the participants prior to the research; and they were more than 20 years younger than me (so, they weren’t my peers or contemporaries). But, I was still very strongly connected to my metal identity; I was up to date with my metal knowledge and, importantly, I had a deep appreciation and understanding of the music and culture that would ultimately enable me to enter a space of shared meaning with participants.

20    Heavy Metal Youth Identities In general, there are points both in favour and against insiders and outsiders as researchers and the relative merits need to be weighed in particular cases. For example, the standpoint approach often favoured by feminist researchers holds that insider positioning endows the researcher with a more complete and less distorted view of the social world – in other words, ‘you have to be one to know one’ (Heath et al., 2009, p. 40). On the other hand, Carter (2004) argues that it might be useful to deliberately mismatch researchers and participants to avoid taking things for granted and to create space for teasing out ‘meanings and assumptions that may otherwise remain unspoken’ (p. 348). In his landmark study of the Goth subculture, Hodkinson (2002) made a notable transition from participating as a Goth to researching as a Goth. His critical reflections on the experience have led him to cautiously argue a case for the merits of insider research. On the upside, Hodkinson (2005, p. 136) felt that his transition to insider researcher widened and focused his point of view in positive ways that accorded with his academic background and aspirations, but without compromising his level of involvement in Goth culture. He also described a range of resources that insider status can bring to the research process including – access to participants; being able to draw on subcultural literacies; and shared aspects of physical appearance and cultural knowledge that can serve to build rapport with participants (Hodkinson, 2005). One of the concerns he flagged, however, was that the kinds of knowledge and understanding produced could be influenced (if not skewed) by the likely existence of multiple insider views. He also cautioned that, in the presence of an insider, participants might feel pressured into giving responses that are consistent with dominant thinking or the collective ideologies of the group in question. But, on the other hand, participants might consciously avoid inaccuracies in the presence of an insider who is ‘clued-up’; whereas, it could be easy to exaggerate, omit or fabricate responses to a relatively ignorant outsider (Hodkinson, 2005, p. 140). While critically examining insider methodologies, Bennett (2002) argued that insider researchers’ reflections on the benefits of access to cultural groups tell us very little in social scientific terms without also reflecting on ‘the role of the researcher, the relationship between the researcher and the research respondents and the possible impact on the latter on the nature of the research data produced’ (p. 456) [my emphasis]. I was committed to telling the most accurate versions of participants’ stories that I could. If I distorted the fullness of their narratives, I simply would have been another part of the ‘problem’ in the field of researching metal youth. Cognisant of this (and Bennett’s concerns), I reflected deeply (and often) on my role in the research process and the ways that data were co-produced during the interviews. If one were to observe my interviews taking place, they would probably have looked like two metalheads just hanging out together and talking. But, for me, my background wasn’t in metal research. Yes, I had metal conversations with the metal youth. But much of what I asked them, and how I asked it, was really not so different to when I talk to any young people in a research relationship (remembering that I set out to investigate the role of metal in everyday life, and to holistically explore the whole of their lifeworlds and social transitions).

Introduction    21 Talk between researchers and the researched is interactively produced and performed as a narrative; hence, ‘the investigator becomes an active presence in the text’ (Riessman, 2008, p. 105). Because of this, narratives produced between insiders carry the potential for becoming exaggerated performances of subcultural identity. It was clear to me from the moment I met each participant that we were indeed performing metal identities for each other. I’d start my interviewing days with a careful choice of metal shirt – and I suspect participants did the same (the choice of metal shirt is an important identity ‘clue’ used between metalheads universally). As I entered their bedrooms, lounge rooms and other rehearsal spaces to talk, they had all sorts of metal ‘stuff’ strategically positioned for my attention – often prompting discussions that ‘tested’ my metal knowledge as an icebreaker of sorts. With each test that I passed, rapport was established and conversations flowed with ease. In youth-speak, we were on like Donkey Kong. I thought long and hard about the co-production of identity performances between participants and myself. I don’t know if they would have performed their metal identities in the same manner for non-metal researchers, but I do believe that they were giving me rare insights into the construction of their metal truths and realities that, as a metalhead, I was able to understand on their terms. One example of what my ‘metalness’ meant for data integrity was when I first met Jake. I got to his front door, it swung open and I reached for his hand in the ‘bro shake’ position (opposite angle to a regular handshake). He took me inside, we chatted for some time and then he had a confession to make. He had seen the recruiting flyer and was ‘annoyed by people poking their nose into metal’; so, he decided to take part in the research with the intention of ‘fucking with me’ (meaning he was planning to tell me a whole bunch of sensational things that were just not true to throw a spanner in the research): I thought what’s all this crap about [the research], but as soon as you walked in I knew it wasn’t anything like that. I can’t believe all the stuff I just started telling you about my life man [laughs]. (Jake) In sum, there were compelling research questions to ask of metal youth; and as a seasoned metalhead, I was well placed to ask them. I also felt I’d get responding that would be more useful than a non-metal researcher attempting the same, and Jake affirmed this.

Framing the Study Hodkinson (2005, p. 143) suggested that insider researchers are well placed to use a combination of their academic background and experience of the culture in question to make reasonable judgements around which themes and issues might be worthy of exploration. He added that this may not only save time, but may also avoid the imposition of unsuitable conceptual frameworks (Hodkinson, 2005, p. 143). For me, examples of unsuitable (or at least questionable) conceptual frameworks were evident in the raft of deficit-framed studies of metal youth I raised

22    Heavy Metal Youth Identities earlier. It’s a big problem for data construction when deficit orientations don’t give metal preferences any conceptual grounding in the broader contexts of young lives – a framing that Bennett (2002) identified as being ‘crucially absent from Arnett’s reading of heavy metal’ (p. 459). To address this, I designed the study in such a way that it could capture the contexts, processes and outcomes of early metal identity formations, and situate these in the everyday lives of metal youth. Hence, the conceptual framework first considered the social contexts of a changing modernity and the impact of social change on young people’s lived experiences, especially ideas regarding the individualisation of youth identities and transitions (Bauman, 2001; Beck & Beck-Gernsheim, 2001; France, 2007; Furlong & Cartmel, 2007) – with a particular interest in how broader social dynamics and structural forces are lived out in local contexts. Second, exploring the processes underpinning metal identity formations drew on theories of reflexivity in order to examine ways that social interactions might shape the authoring (and re-authoring) of metal identity biographies (Giddens, 1991; Henderson, Holland, McGrellis, Sharpe, & Thomson, 2007; Lawler, 2008). This line of thinking was premised on the idea that how others regard us is a crucial factor for shaping our internal conversations through which we come to understand ‘ourselves, our lives, the meaning of our actions and our biographical narratives’ (Burkitt, 2012, p. 3). This idea was critical for discovering how the metal youth constructed their sense of self in everyday life; particularly, what they came to ‘learn’ about themselves through interactions with others, and how this shaped their self-talk. The conceptual pairing of a changing modernity and reflexive identity work were early considerations brought to the research design. The third framing of outcomes, however, was developed during the research based on things that participants said during early interviews about the strong role that metal played in fostering a range of positive outcomes. I situate these positive outcomes under the umbrella concept of psychosocial wellbeing to notice ways that psychological and social3 processes interact with and influence each other (World Health Organization, 2012). A psychosocial frame helped to capture wellbeing outcomes relating to the emotional aspects of how it felt to listen to metal and embody a metal identity; the relational aspects of early metal identity formations and family and community dynamics; and the broader social, emotional and cognitive aspects of leaving school and stepping out into the world as a young metalhead faced with making decisions about what to do in life, and sorting through what sort of work, study, accommodation and leisure options might be realistically possible. Wellbeing outcomes were analysed through a lens of positive coping that took in notions of belonging, acceptance, respect, resilience, social relationships, emancipation, justice and security of identity (Bauman, 2004; Côté & Levine,

3

To remain mindful of social inequalities that can hinder youth development, it is vitally important to conceptualise the social aspect of psychosocial wellbeing as being made up of micro relationships between people in everyday life and macro relationships between individuals and the social structures, systems and institutions that shape their environments.

Introduction    23 2002; Honneth, 2007; Liebenberg & Ungar, 2009). Bottrell’s (2007) concept of ‘chosen’ identity work as an empowering form of resistance against ‘unchosen’ marginal identities also featured in this framing, which enabled an understanding of why young people might sign up for something so against the grain of acceptable social standards (at least according to the negative views of metal raised earlier in this chapter).

1.4 Research Design and Methods The framing of contexts, processes and outcomes moves research with metal youth into new territory. So too does my critical orientation to applied social research with metal youth. I’m not satisfied with simply describing youth cultures and lifestyles; I’m more concerned with identifying social transformation points in young people’s lives and generating useful information for policy, practice and parenting environments. Qualitative research using narrative methods was essential for capturing the complex configurations of participants’ identity and aspiration biographies, and the environments in which they were constructed and revised (Riessman & Quinney, 2005). Crucially, the longitudinal aspect of this study allowed for a deep exploration of ways that metal intersected with broader biography work overtime as the young people navigated transitions through education, employment, relationships and music-related careers and travel. Learning about these processes and outcomes (whether good, or not so good) sheds much needed light on how we can best support subcultural youth to achieve strong and empowered pathways to adulthood.

Sample and Recruiting The sample was purposively assembled around the inclusion criteria of participants who self-identified as having a heavy metal identity. I didn’t want to talk to casual listeners; I wanted to talk to ‘full-blown’ metalheads, and my insider status began to pay early dividends because I knew where and how to find them. An early advantage was my ability to craft a recruiting flyer that captured the essence of the inclusion criteria in a metal-specific way. The headline on the flyer asked the question ‘How metal are you?’ – which was partly drawn from the obvious identity question at the heart of the research, and drew on common metal vernacular that routinely describes ‘how metal’ something is, or isn’t. The use of fonts is politically charged in metal culture and says much about the metal positioning of the person using them (on T-shirts, posters, band logos and the like). I laboured over my choice of font for the flyer because I wanted it to be inclusive and not turn people from different subgenres away, and this wasn’t easy. ‘Metal neutral’ is not an easy place to find in the complicated archipelago of contemporary metal subgenres and their diverse design elements (Rowe, 2012). I finally settled on a font (that a young person designed for me) that neither was too ‘clean’ for the extreme metal ranks, nor too indecipherable (as is customary in extreme metal) to deter the metalcore fans. (Noting that indecipherable fonts

24    Heavy Metal Youth Identities have since been taken up by more contemporary subgenres, and things will likely change again by the time this book is published. This must be very perplexing to non-metal readers, and shows how non-metal researchers could easily make inappropriate assumptions about metal practices that can affect research design.) Recruiting material was placed in metal nightclubs; at metal gigs; rehearsal rooms; metal sections in retail music stores and music equipment retailers; and metal T-shirt shops. The project was promoted on metal community radio programmes, online metal forums and metal e-zines. The recruiting process was as inclusive as I could possibly make it. I had covered sites of consumption, live performance and rehearsals, and had made provisions for the participants I would come to know as the ‘bedroom metallers’ (through radio and digital media promotion). Originally, in excess of 40 participants were sought for the project. I commenced interviewing as soon as participants began responding and I learned from the early interviews that I was going to end up with considerable data to manage, especially with a view to conducting repeat interviews. I thought they’d be up for a chat, but I didn’t anticipate that some would want to chat for more than three hours at a time – so, the sample was capped at 28 metal youth, consisting of five females and 23 males aged 18–24 growing up in diverse socio-economic suburban locations across Adelaide, South Australia. The sample largely comprised white-Australian youth (one Aboriginal youth took part) and the age range was set based on the assumption that participants would have left or completed high school and would be in the process of embarking on post-school pathways. As such, it was anticipated that participants would be able to provide rich reflections on their early metal identity formations (Stage 1: Becoming Metal) and able to articulate their current realities and their hopes and dreams going forward (Stage 2: Being Metal). While equal gender representation in mixed gender samples is always preferable, this would have been difficult to achieve because there seems to be many more male metal fans than females (Hutcherson & Haenfler, 2010; Weinstein, 2000) [my emphasis]. The final sample composition was therefore roughly gender proportional to metalhead composition in everyday life – if the gendered makeup of crowds at metal gigs is an indication of metal fandom, then yes, participation is still heavily male dominated – even though many women around the world are passionate and dedicated metalheads, and we can’t really know how many are out there participating in other ways. The fact that the sample comprised 27/28 White-Australian youth should also not be taken as a true reflection of the cultural and ethnic diversity of metal fans in Australia because, as Dawes (2015) points out, there are numerous reasons why marginalised groups may not visibly participate in local metal activities (including this research in that category). Research focusing only on female (or non-binary) metal youth and/or culturally and ethnically diverse youth would be extremely valuable and is sorely needed, but this was better left for a future purposive study. (Note: I would also be extremely interested in research focusing on metal youth living with disability to learn more about their participation methods and the role of metal in their daily lives, among other youth population groups.)

Introduction    25 Ethics No approaches were made directly to young people. The onus was on participants to self-select and contact me for an information sheet and consent form, which outlined the purpose of the project; requirements of participation; and statements about informed consent, confidentiality and voluntary participation. Information packs also contained relevant approvals from the University of South Australia’s Human Research Ethics Committee, statements detailing participant rights to withdraw from the study at any time and a statement letting participants know that appropriate referrals would be made for anyone experiencing any distress that could result from taking part in the interviews. The data were de-identified and participant names have been replaced with pseudonyms throughout this book.

Data Collection Data collection consisted of in-depth face-to-face interviews; repeat interviews with the same participants; ethnographic field observations in Australia and the United States; sets of field notes taken when going to watch participants play live, as well as from seeing them out at concerts and festivals; and general communications like telephone calls, texts and emails.

Field Observations, Field Notes and General Communication The types of field observations I initially went looking for (including subgenre styles and practices, gender and age ranges, and moshing styles) have not ultimately featured in the research findings; however, the exercise was still beneficial because my attendance at gigs was a key factor in the relationship building process. Participants would approach me at gigs and festivals and talk at length on all sorts of topics. Even though I anticipated that this cohort would be forthcoming, my original assumptions fell short of exactly how passionate, generous and candid their approach to the research would be. Participants who didn’t attend gigs (for various reasons) still maintained contact with me by phone, email or (most commonly) text messaging. These general communications were often initiated by participants wanting to give me their thoughts on new records or tours (or ask mine) with conversations often moving on cover issues more central to the research, and recorded with their permission. Although general field observations have not ultimately served the broad aims of the research, one unanticipated set of field observations did end up featuring prominently in the findings. The opportunities I had to see participants play music themselves – whether at organised gigs, or at home in their bedrooms – allowed me to witness their talents and check their aspiration narratives very concretely. I didn’t plan on this, but if you put a bunch of metalheads together, the riffs will come, ready or not! These musical interactions, and the conversations that wrapped around them, ultimately became an important means of understanding participants’ truths and realities.

26    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Interviews During Stage 1 of data collection, 28 face-to-face in-depth interviews were conducted over a six-month period. The Stage 1 interview guide was designed to elicit contextual information for each participant including metal history (first metal memories), metal preferences (subgenre alignment), social and domestic circumstances (past and present), school experiences, post-school transitions and future aspirations (to set up Stage 2 data collection). The interview guide was also designed to help answer research questions about what they found so alluring about metal, and what they perceived to gain from forming a metal identity. Stage 1 interviews were, on average, around two hours in duration (some went longer than three hours) and held in a variety of places including participants’ homes, rehearsal spaces, recording studios and public places. Stage 2 of data collection consisted of follow-up communications with 25 of the original participants over a four-year period in order to track, over time, how they were navigating (and re-routing) various pathways through education, employment, musical careers and other transition points. No separate interview guide was crafted for repeat interviews; this was more a case of checking in to see how their plans and aspirations were unfolding and explore what might be helping or hindering their progress. The follow-up interviews and communications over time helped to answer my questions about how young metalheads might be faring in post-school transitional contexts, and what factors might shape their aspiration biographies along the way.

Data Management and Analysis I personally transcribed all interview data and field notes verbatim. I felt this was vital given that I had an understanding of the different emphases that they placed on particular pieces of text. For example, I knew when they were being sarcastic and I recalled what faces they were making during certain sounds on the audio recordings. It was logical that I should transcribe the interviews – irrespective of how leviathan some of them were – and from there I was able to take portions of text from the transcriptions to construct the narratives into manageable pieces of text to analyse. It was also clear that an outsider attempting to transcribe the interviews might miss a lot of the metal terms and phrases altogether. The data were coded using Riessman’s (2008) matrix of narrative analysis, specifically her framework for thematically analysing the content of what was said, rather than how, to whom or for what purposes. In this narrative study, thematically coding what was said was crucial for answering the research questions. First-level coding of Stage 1 data identified participants’ first metal memories and the early subtleties of metal preferences forming (which for most occurred during high school, but for one was in primary school). Because of the concurrent timing of schooling and early metal preferences, second-level coding mapped out social experiences at high school as well as the role that metal played during this time, including reflections on listening to metal and also the early embodiment of a metal identity. Third-level coding of the Stage 1 data revealed interesting nuances

Introduction    27 in participants’ experiences of social rejection (or feeling vulnerable to rejection) by dominant peer groups at school. Stage 2 data were systematically coded to highlight the changes to (or maintenance of) aspirations and pathways, and further coded to map the factors or relationships that had any influence on their decision making, or directions they were taking. Remembering that the study was doctoral research, thematic coding and narrative texts were frequently checked and debated in the supervisory relationship. Earlier in this chapter, I critically scrutinised the methodological and conceptual choices of other researchers; so, I wanted to give equal time to being clear and transparent about my research design to help the reader form their own judgements about what the different approaches can tell us about metal youth, or not. With all of this now outlined, it’s time to move on and hear what the metal youth had to say. From here, the book is presented in two parts: Part 1, Becoming Metal, traces early metal identity formations during high school years and looks at what life was like for the young people during that time, while closely examining the role that metal played in their everyday lives. Part 2, Being Metal, tracks what happened after the metal youth left or completed schooling, keeping a watchful eye on the role that metal played in their daily lives as they started making (and revising) decisions about what they hoped to do with their futures.

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Part 1

Becoming Metal Becoming Metal examines participants’ early memories of listening to metal music and their earliest recollections of forming and embodying a metal identity. The next three chapters will explore three common themes which all of the metal youth talked about (but in their own unique ways). The said three themes are – the enjoyment of listening to metal and ways that it helped them cope with various challenges and emotions, learning to embody a metal identity for social protection (and the fun of shocking people) and developing a sense of belonging to the metal community. These three themes, and their corresponding chapters, are all interwoven by a further theme; namely that all participants described themselves as some sort of ‘outsider’ at school, but they were able to draw on metal to reframe their outsider status as a positive attribute. This will be examined at different points throughout the next three chapters, along with the implications of all this for improving self-esteem, confidence and emotional wellbeing.

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Chapter 2

‘Metal is My Drug’: The Comforts and Pleasures of Listening to Metal This chapter focuses on what the metal youth had to say about listening to metal music. The music itself was cited as the number one draw card for recruitment into the metal subculture, and the gateway for discovering other pleasurable aspects of metal culture that are detailed in Chapters 3 and 4 to follow. Interviewees described the intensity of the music, the pleasure it imbues and the ways that metal music can serve to alleviate physical and emotional stress. But the descriptions are far more detailed than to simply say ‘listening to metal reduces stress’: participants narrated a range of life events and ways that different types of metal were most relevant in scenarios like bereavement; family breakdown; being bullied and as a motivator when faced with challenging tasks in everyday life. Through this, we will see the tremendous importance of song lyrics and the different types of lyrical narratives that unfold in contemporary metal songs, and ways that young people can use them to mediate a range of emotional responses to life’s challenges and triumphs.

2.1 Power of Music, Power of Words Music has been incredibly important to generations of teens. So it wasn’t at all surprising to hear how important metal music was for my research sample – for the pleasurable aspects of ‘just really getting into the music’ (Jake), and the ways they described the music helping them to ‘survive’ their high school years. But as we will see throughout this chapter, metal music has some unique attributes and elements that other genres of music do not (or not to the same degree at least), and these were important for helping the young people to get in touch with different feelings, learning to self-talk about their emotions and strategising options for managing them. When describing what they liked most about listening to metal, some leaned more towards enjoying the music, and some more towards enjoying the lyrics and vocals; however, there was a majority consensus that the power and appeal of

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 31–48 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181002

32    Heavy Metal Youth Identities metal music and lyrics ‘is nothing without each other’ (Alex). When talking about the music itself, there were variations in what they liked most about the musical elements, often depending on which subgenre participants aligned with, or what instruments they played themselves. For example, young guitarists talked a lot about riffs and guitar techniques, and drummers talked about drum production, sounds and styles they liked listening to (and learning from). But despite the differences in the types of musical styles and instrumentation they liked, all participants related at an emotional level to metal lyrics, the way they were performed and who performed them. Walser sheds some light on the power and emotion that is typical of metal vocal performances: Human screams and shouts are usually accompanied by vocal distortion, as the capacities of the vocal chords are exceeded. Thus, distortion functions as a sign of extreme power and intense expression by overflowing its channels and materializing the exceptional effort that produces it. (Walser, 1993, p. 42) The intensity of the musical instrumentation and vocal expression (that Walser described) played out as an interesting combination of both physical and emotional stress release for the metal youth. Although the musical aspects are obviously vitally important, I will not dwell on them here because others have written about them in much more enlightened detail than I can provide (e.g. see Berger, 1999; Hagen, 2011; Walser, 1993; Weinstein, 2000). Instead, I will mostly focus on the narratives in metal lyrics in order to look at ways that lyrics can shape self-talk (remembering that my broad research aim was to understand how metal youth biographically construct themselves and selftalk about life’s possibilities). That said I would still bring up key points that participants made about the musical elements wherever relevant throughout this chapter.

2.2 Checking in with the Broken Self Case Study – Luke Luke lived his early life with his mother, father and older sister. He had a happy early childhood and remembered a strong love of music in his family, stating that he ‘grew up on the classics’ because his parents listened to Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple and Black Sabbath: Basically, my journey into music was being brought up on old school stuff, my folks both liked Deep Purple, Sabbath, Led Zeppelin. When my dad died, I started getting into more alternative stuff and after that I got into metal, but my main roots, well my reason for music is my family. My uncle even, he’s old school as well, I’ve been raised around good music, it was natural to go down that path. Music and family is number one for me …

‘Metal is My Drug’    33 Luke remembered his father as ‘a pack a day smoker who liked a drink too’. He told me his father was ‘a bit crook for a while’ before his liver shut down and he died from a blood infection at age 48 when Luke was just six years old. Understandably, things changed dramatically for Luke’s family after his father’s death. His mother was deeply affected by the loss and ‘had her own stuff to deal with’ when trying to adjust to life as a sole parent. Luke remembers spending more and more time with his sister and listening to alternative music together throughout his primary school years while his ‘mum was busy working stuff out’. Luke said that he had always been a ‘big kid’, but he recalled Year 7 as a real turning point when the teasing escalated and he was constantly being ridiculed at school about his height and weight, as well as his curly hair and prescription glasses. This was also around the same time that Luke’s family was dealt another crushing blow: his mother was diagnosed with cancer when Luke was 12 years old. Her health deteriorated rapidly and, together with his 14-year-old sister, Luke missed a lot of schooling in Year 7 (final year of primary school) and Year 8 (first year of high school). During this time, the siblings took up primary responsibility for their mother’s care at home, as ‘she was bed ridden most of the time’. Luke also travelled interstate several times with his mother so she could receive specialised treatment that was unavailable locally. The treatment, however, was unsuccessful and ‘she was sick for a couple more years’ until she died when he was 14: Yeah when mum died, I started really listening to heavy music as a release. Back then I had no other way to get it [the painful emotions] out, so I’d crank it up and work through it. When mum died, it was a case of “Okay, so I need something, I need some help here”. I was mad she died, but I was mad at her for dying too and leaving us as we were. My sister and I were always at the house when she was alive, just us two, and we bonded over the experience, kinda like how metal works, you bond over a struggle or a common emotion. How I released it [intense emotional pain] when I started really listening to metal was a lot different to how I did before then, before I just wanted to belt the crap out of everything and anything. Metal really helped for that. Honestly, I just don’t think people get it, like we’re not just randomly angry individuals … Luke had to go back to school after his mother died and found that ‘nothing had changed’ in terms of being teased and bullied. In fact, things were worse for him socially at school than they had been ‘before she got sick’ because he had missed much schooling, was ‘really on the outer’ and hadn’t formed friendships groups at the start of high school: After mum died I had to go back [to school] and I was so angry, but I couldn’t get out of it [going back to school]. They picked on me for my weight, my hair, whatever, kids being kids. Generally

34    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I’d suck it up and walk away, but it was really hard not to smash someone when they started talking about me and my sister … As well as picking on his appearance, the bullies were spreading cruel rumours about Luke and his sister because they had missed so much school together. Around that time, Luke discovered the band Trivium and credited their music as ‘a very big reason’ that he didn’t actually end up ‘smashing someone’. The intensity of the music and vocal expression captivated Luke. He said that always felt better after listening to it: For me, growing up and having all those troubles, it seems like everyone’s against you, and yeah, that’s the breaking point, I was a loner, I had no friends cos I’d missed so much school, and I was angry. I listened to this band called Trivium and it just blew me away, like this stuff was heavy and I thought “Yeah, this is for me”. It was going back around five years, I would’ve been around 14 or 15. Listening to the really angry stuff, that’s what ended up getting me through school, for sure … Luke started exploring other metal bands (and subgenres) and told me that ‘it’s not all just rah rah angry shit that’s important’. He said that he ‘wasn’t just angry’ about his mother dying and being bullied: he also had extended periods of feeling sad and depressed, and trying to process why this was all happening to him when ‘other kids were just whingeing about not getting enough pocket money and shit’. Luke told me that at times, he felt really sad; and at other times, he felt really mad and sometimes he’d just get mad and fed up with being sad. But no matter the configuration of painful emotions that came up at different times, Luke said that listening to metal and identifying with ‘someone else being really pissed off’ reliably helped to make him feel better and ease the pressure back a bit. Luke had clear reasons to be suffering emotionally as a teen – having lost both parents was bad enough, but having to endure social humiliation at school as well was particularly cruel for one so young to deal with. Luke’s circumstances were arguably as bad as it gets, but other participants had their own constellations of pain and suffering to endure during their high school years too. And like so many teens universally, they turned to music (in this case metal) to soothe their pain. Some of the ‘stuff’ the others had gone through included sibling bereavement, family breakdown, moving around a lot, social isolation, intense bullying, loneliness, being ‘sent’ to boarding school and the general frustrations and anxieties that accompany the uncertainty of growing up and being faced with having to make more adult-type life decisions. I found it interesting that regardless of their personal circumstances or metal subgenre preferences, the band Korn regularly came up when participants were reflecting on their earliest memories of listening to music to cope with sadness and despair – which shouldn’t be surprising given the age group of the sample and the nu metal era in which they were forming early music preferences (and the mainstream accessibility of nu metal at that time). Nu metal bands like Korn,

‘Metal is My Drug’    35 Trivium, Linkin Park, Chimaira and Slipknot featured prominently as introductions to metal: Nu metal, in short, can be characterised by aggressive, rap-influenced, angst-ridden and pitch yelling vocals, hip-hop style beats or drum samples, and heavily distorted, detuned guitars playing largely syncopated, riff-based music with a distinct lack of solos and overt displays of musical virtuosity. (Pieslak, 2008, p. 37) While the band itself rejects the title, Korn is widely credited with pioneering the emergence of the nu metal subgenre. Horrific events involving children are a recurring focus of the band’s lyrics drawn from singer Jonathan Davis’ personal history of sexual abuse, and the awareness of violent physical and sexual crimes against children that he developed during his employment as an assistant coroner prior to joining the band (Pieslak, 2008). The song Daddy, which appeared on Korn’s self-titled debut album in 1994, was referenced explicitly by four participants (with Jonathan Davis mentioned more generally by a further 10 participants). Davis has stated that the graphic lyrics were not literal and it wasn’t his father who sexually abused him. He explained in a Kerrang! magazine interview that the song was actually about being abused by a person known to the family, and his parents’ dismissal of the situation: People think ‘Daddy’ was written because my dad fucked me up the ass, but that’s not what the song’s about. It wasn’t about my dad or my mom. When I was a kid, I was being abused by someone else and I went to my parents and told them about it. They thought I was lying and joking around, so they never did shit about it. They didn’t believe it was happening to their son … (Kerrang! 1996, np) Davis’s performance during the audio and video recording of the song over 20 years ago has been inducted into metal folklore (nu metal folklore at least), and the emotional intensity of the song is so great that the band chose not to play it live until recently. By the end of the studio version of the song, the screams and guttural vocals heard throughout the track give way to Davis appearing emotionally spent and laying on the floor of the recording studio crying uncontrollably – the crying, sobbing and cursing at the end of the track are defining elements of the song’s notoriety. Davis’s performance had a lasting impact on participants, as Jake and David described: Oh man, like Jonathan Davis just curled up on the floor and letting it all out, man that was full on … (Jake) That’s one reason why I did like Korn and still do have a spot for that older stuff, cos when Jonathan Davis would be on the ground crying and you knew it was heartfelt and not contrived, well

36    Heavy Metal Youth Identities hearing someone else with their experience definitely helps, and that stuff is talked about mainly in metal, nothing else … (David) The four participants who made specific reference to this song had very different domestic and social circumstances (to one another) and very different sources of emotional pain ranging from Jake being bullied, to David’s experience of family violence, Danielle’s isolation and Alex’s ‘general frustrations’ with growing up (his descriptor). None of them reported being sexually abused as a child (as the lyrics in Daddy depict); however, they all told me how they were able to relate to lines in the song such as ‘you fucking ruined my life’ and ‘no one hears me’. They were able to identify with ambiguous narratives of pain and tailor them to suit their own needs. However, it was the way that Davis embodied pain and suffering through his performance that was crucial for the metal youth to feel a sense of solidarity and develop self-talk that could express that ‘it’s okay to feel this way, I’m not the only one, I’m not alone’. According to Rafalovich (2006), the lyrical text in the song, Daddy, captures a narrative of the broken self that conveys ‘relentless suffering and the futility of outside intervention’ (p. 22). He also suggests that metal narratives of the broken self are embedded with notions of individualism because they generally depict challenging personal circumstances in which the self is left to stand alone and face the torment against a backdrop of ‘hopelessness, passivity and internal rage’ (p. 23). Luke indeed felt very much alone with his suffering, so I asked him to tell me more about how he got by. Amongst other songs, he told me that Machine Head’s Days Turn Blue to Gray had been really important for him after his mother died and he no longer had either parent living. He reflected on ‘having depression for a while’ following her death and described how comforting it was for him to hear Machine Head vocalist Robb Flynn singing about complex family trauma and despair because the song helped him make sense of sorrow and rage co-existing together as quite a ‘normal’ set of feelings (Luke would play the song repeatedly and feel a sense of unity with Flynn – and also with the young people depicted in the video clip). Flynn was singing about quite different circumstances to Luke’s; but again, it was the ability to apply the ambiguity of the lyrics that enabled Luke to share in Flynn’s performative pain and to ‘just let it all out’ (Luke). Danielle had moved around a lot from town to town and felt as though she never had the opportunity to settle down and make friends – she said she was always ‘treated low being the new kid all the time’ and never felt respected by peers at any of the schools she attended. She recalled hearing Korn for the first time when she was around 14 and said ‘that changed everything for me’: I suppose it was mostly the meaningful lyrics. I definitely got rid of a lot of feelings through metal, I’m not sure how to explain it, not always your aggression, but just your emotions and stuff, and music is the outlet for that. I was pretty much just a loner all the time, music’s always been my company since then because I’ve never had proper friends and stuff so music’s the only thing that’s been there for me …

‘Metal is My Drug’    37 The theme of being ‘a loner’ coming through Danielle’s narrative was described by all participants (but in their own unique ways); and most expressed this as being an ‘outsider’ – especially in the school environment. This would not surprise readers who have any kind of association with metal. The marginal positioning of metal fandom is often expressed anecdotally by metalheads themselves; it has been written about by metal scholars (e.g. CliffordNapoleone, 2015); and it has been reinforced and celebrated by iconic metal musicians; for example, Rob Zombie once defined metal as ‘outsider music’ and described himself as an outsider and a loner growing up because his interests were different to his peers. Zombie also remarked that although nobody wants to be the ‘weird kid’, somehow ‘you just end up being the weird kid’, and ‘metal is like that, except all of the weird kids are in one place’ (Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey, 2005). For the metal youth I spoke with, the paths to ‘somehow just ending up as the weird kid’ were many and varied. Some had tenuous family dynamics that rendered them ‘different’; some had non-normative physical attributes (or were ‘goofy’, by their descriptions); and some had complex variations of classed, raced and gendered factors intersecting with personality or physical attributes that rendered them ‘different’ to peers. I give a more detailed account of these variations in Chapter 4. However, first I want to emphasise this general sense of being (or feeling) different to peers at school – a deep knowing that one doesn’t quite fit social norms and expectations (and maybe never will); and how feeling like an outsider (for whatever reason) can manifest in self-talk about being rejected and disrespected that can then be reinforced (and somehow enjoyed) through metal narratives of individualism and this idea of ‘standing alone to face the torment’ (as Rafalovich described it). Feeling (and expressing) sadness, anger and despair through music is not new information here. Countless sad songs evoking melancholy and suffering can be found across a wide variety of musical genres, but it’s the complicated relationship between sadness, anger and individualism where things get uniquely interesting for metal lyrics: and a powerful narrative shift in self-talk can be made from feeling sad and alone to standing up and doing something about it.

2.3 Galvanising the Dominant Self According to Rafalovich (2006), the sense of hopelessness embedded in narratives of the broken self is often mediated in metal music by narratives of a dominant self that undertake ‘the destruction of, or victory over, perceived forces of repression’ (p. 220). He draws on Korn again to illustrate his point that suffering and domination can usefully co-exist in contemporary metal music: Songs describing a helpless and defeated self are often compiled with songs thematically centering on the conquering of others and the cultivation of inner strength. The metal listening experience is, therefore, as bifurcated as it is individualistic. On the same recording in which Korn’s Jonathon Davis exposes his devastating sexual

38    Heavy Metal Youth Identities assault, the song “Faget” (1994) reverses the role of victim and victimizer, portraying Davis as the assailant: “You’ll suck my dick and fucking like it!” he screams. (Rafalovich, 2006, p. 26) When I first read Rafalovich’s paper during my early literature searches, I found it interesting enough. However, I set it aside and continued searching for literature on what we know about metal youth and their early metal identity formations – after all, I wasn’t researching metal music; I was researching the identity formations of metal fans. But when I got out there and actually started talking to the young people, it became clear that the bifurcation of narratives in metal lyrics (that Rafalovich described) played a significant role in setting the scene for self-talk around coping skills and resilience. So, this was in fact a very big part of early metal identity formations – as it turned out, metal lyrics were very much intertwined with the stories participants were telling themselves about ‘who I am and what I’m capable of’. Jake gave an example of this when he described how particular types of metal songs helped him cope with being bullied at high school: That was a really frustrating time [being bullied at school] and I was really angry all the time. There’s always gonna be fuckheads in life, but it’s even harder to take when you know you’re the good person, so you listen to songs like Hammer Smashed Face and think it’d be cool if that happened, like they’ll get theirs somewhere in life…it sucks [being victimised] but I listen to those guys [metal musicians] and think “If they can get through all this shit, I can too”. Even though Jake would come from school and imagine the violent scenarios depicted in the Cannibal Corpse song Hammer Smashed Face being inflicted on the bullies, he was adamant that he was ‘a weakling who would never harm anyone’, which was precisely why he enjoyed fantasising about revenge through the lyrics. He told me about ‘heaps of songs’ that were really important for helping him to cope with the bullying because he’d come home from school and yell along with the lyrics in his room – imagining that he was yelling and screaming violent threats at the bullies. In addition, he would beat his fists and feet down on the bed until he started to feel calm. Once he felt better, he would play some (usually violent) video games and then round his night out by ‘throwing some British comedy DVDs on and having a good laugh’. Jake’s multimedia self-care package was impressively tailored to suit his needs; but, the metal narratives of domination over his oppressors were really important for helping him develop his ‘survivor’ identity, and the aggression in the vocal performances of these songs was critical for allowing him to join in, scream along and let it all out.

Moral Superiority It wasn’t surprising to me that Jake (and others) described how empowering it felt to fantasise about ‘bad shit’ happening to bullies when listening to violent

‘Metal is My Drug’    39 lyrics (and also playing violent video games). Nevertheless, what I didn’t anticipate was the ways this was bound up with a sense of moral (and often intellectual) superiority that the metal youth expressed – about themselves and their metal preferences. Jake said in the quote above that ‘there’s always gonna be fuckheads in life… but it’s even harder to take when you know you’re the good person’. Mark also took the moral high ground when stating that: The bullies behave ridiculously, but they still have all the friends, I don’t get that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be a popular person, but people who don’t deserve it get the rewards, and they’re absolute cockheads. You sit there and think, I hate you all, and at the end of the day I found that, not to sound defeatist, but just let them go on with their fucking life and they’ll eventually find out they’re cockheads, I’m not gonna bother … Mark’s sentiments about undeserving people being rewarded socially were echoed by others who similarly felt the injustice of poor behaviour being rewarded with increased popularity at school. For Mark and others, demoralising their oppressors and emotionally reversing the power dynamic was the key to selfempowerment and emotional wellbeing. Joey was also very forthright with his thoughts about non-metal peers at school: The other kids were dickheads man, they’re fucking arseholes, just cos you’re wearing black and stuff, even though it’s just band shirts it’s like, oh, you’re an emo go cut yourself and all this dumb shit, those pathetic little school yard kids. They were usually the typical dumb surfie kids who’d listen to crap like Kesha and Lil Wayne, yeah, just dumb music. It’s just pathetic, the music has no intellect in it at all, if you listen to the lyrics, it’s all about going out, getting laid and talking about how easy you are … Like others had done, Joey also constructed a biography of assuming moral superiority over the popular students. However, he made a shift here by denigrating popular music (and essentially its consumers) as having ‘no intellect’, which is a more targeted attack than Mark provided above. Other participants (like Bryant and David) further targeted ‘dumb jocks’ at their schools, which David articulated as the ‘stupidity of [jocks] chasing a ball around all day like a dog’. Bryant shared his thoughts on the ‘jocks’ at his school (or as he called them, ‘losers’): I was pretty much on my own at boarding school. I managed to acquire the nick-name Death Boy. I was ridiculed and stuff, I didn’t give a shit, I was happy doing what I did, listening to

40    Heavy Metal Youth Identities metal and dressing the way I did, that was just a natural thing that felt comfortable to me. I didn’t do anything about the shit I copped cos it didn’t really bother me so much, it was more or less entertaining seeing people get all worked up over some scrawny little guy that preferred to wear black and not say a lot than be a loser who enjoys wearing bright colours and running around like a dickhead kicking a football and all those kinds of behaviours and things. It’s something I never understood and didn’t feel comfortable doing it … Glen provided another interesting twist by directing his personal attacks at the nu metal listeners at his school: I was an outsider, I know I was, I didn’t care that I didn’t get on with the metal crowd, they were into all nu metal anyway and I didn’t really view that as metal. I did listen to that stuff, but if I said “Check out Pantera”, they’d be like “Who are they? Oh, they suck”. I just gave up, it was like I don’t care, I know my music, if you idiots come around and see my CD collection you’ll know I’m a big metal fan, you don’t know shit – but it didn’t really bother me, I just stayed to myself. School’s like that … The backstory to Glen’s quote was that he attended a private high school because his mother believed it would provide the best teaching options to support his dyslexia. The school implemented a negotiated curriculum plan for Glen that had a high degree of sports and practical subjects to offset a reduction in reading- and writing-based competencies. As a result, he was unable to embed himself socially in classroom-based peer groups because he was ‘always on the move in and out of different classes’. He also commented that he ‘was so good at so many sports’ that he ‘didn’t settle with one team or code’ and that was why he didn’t make friendships easily. Glen empowered himself by narratively framing his lack of friends as being a result of his superior skill-set – he constructed the ‘fact’ of not having friends because of things he did well, rather than things he did wrong or did not measure up to. Although Glen started out listening to Korn and other nu metal bands, by Year 9 he had made the shift to extreme metal to distance himself from the more mainstream nu metal clique at his high school that was excluding him or, as he put it, ‘the idiots that didn’t know shit’. Darrell also reframed his outsider status as being superior to the ‘popular kids’: I was an outcast at school, I didn’t hang around with the popular kids because I didn’t like them, I didn’t like what they were about, the music they listened to. Just because I got bullied didn’t mean I was about to change my identity to be someone they liked, cos I didn’t care what they liked, and I didn’t think they were worthy of liking me …

‘Metal is My Drug’    41 When Darrell stated that he ‘didn’t hang around with the popular kids because he didn’t like them’, he was making a clear statement of power and choice in the matter. However, the fullness of Darrell’s narrative showed that he was repeatedly bullied and did not make friends at any of the five high schools he attended. He empowered himself by reframing himself as the rejector (rather than the rejected). He was able to validate this through identification with metal lyrics. Pantera had been a particularly strong early influence on him, with the song Domination featuring prominently in his narrative reflections on how he managed to cope and feel powerful in new environments each time he changed schools – showing again just how useful the ambiguity of metal lyrics can be because the lyrics of Domination could be interpreted introspectively towards the self, or externally towards others. Either way, Darrell was able to recast himself in the superior rather than subordinate position and feel markedly better about himself in the process. It stood out to me that this moral superiority phenomenon was mostly observable with male participants. It was often accompanied by expressions of rage and injustice and was most evident in the cohort that was overtly bullied. (That said Jordan did display elements of superiority in her narrative, also remembering that the sample wasn’t gender proportional at one female to roughly every five male participants.) By design, bullying attacks and reduces the victim’s social status and worthiness and harms their self-esteem in the process (Macklem, 2003). Nevertheless, here we can see that these victims of bullying were able to narratively reconstruct power relations with their oppressors, and that identifying with metal lyrics played a strong role in this. What we don’t know is whether they developed a sense of moral superiority from listening to metal lyrics, or whether they acquired this in other ways and then used metal lyrics to reinforce it. As it stands, we need more information on this. However, it does pose interesting questions for future research, particularly in light of recent shifts to reframe bullying as a relationship (rather than a set of behaviours) in order to map out more useful interventions for altering power imbalances in social relationships (see Sercombe & Donnelly, 2012). What we do know, however, is that metal lyrics were vitally important for mediating painful experiences and emotions for these young people, and through the music, some were able to achieve at least a temporal sense of reclaiming power over their enemies.

Metal Work Ethic and Individualism Metal is emotive music – participants said this repeatedly – and among the many emotions, it evoked for these young metalheads was a deep yearning to take control of their own circumstances. Jake voiced his strong opinions on this: Metal is a culture of not relying on other people to do your shit, you do it yourself. When you have to do stuff and figure stuff out for yourself, that’s when you learn. Some people grow up expecting people to do them a favour, they think the world fucking owes them. Well the world does not owe you shit, and when you learn

42    Heavy Metal Youth Identities from first-hand experience that nothing’s ever gonna happen for you unless you do it yourself and you get real about creating your own identity, then you’re securing your future by doing it yourself, not waiting for someone to come along and help, not waiting for the bullies to stop, just making your own way through it … Jake was clearly outraged by the bullies at his school. However, his narrative highlights how he assumed responsibility for the situation in terms of achieving a good outcome. His self-talk about personal responsibility resonates with Beck and Beck-Gernsheim’s (2001, p. 24) argument that social-crisis phenomena in late modernity are routinely shifted ‘as a burden of risk onto the shoulders of individuals’. Hence, the construction of ‘do-it-yourself’ biographies is fraught in terms of success or failure at ‘getting it right’. Jake’s perception, however, was one of taking on this responsibility because ‘it’s what metal guys do’ and ‘it’s a culture of not relying on other people to do your shit’. Thus, there are questions here about metal music and culture buying into or even driving ideological constructions of personal responsibility. These young people grew up in a Western climate of neo-liberal politics. However, the metal subculture they aligned with, and the narrative discourses they heard through the music, seemed to reinforce that they were responsible for their own circumstances. As another example, Drew reflected on the upheaval of moving from his small rural farming community and ‘being sent’ to boarding school in the city with strangers: I probably relied on metal a lot when it was tough for me. I just thought I need to man up and this is what I have to do, there was no point getting upset … Others also used the term ‘manning up’ when talking about taking responsibility for their circumstances – all participants, girls included, constructed a highly unique ‘metal work ethic’ around the production and promotion of metal music and live shows. The term ‘DIY’ (do it yourself) was used frequently as a ‘badge of honour’ to capture a sense that no one was helping out with their metal careers (the DIY activities participants described included recording, marketing, advertising, and designing and printing flyers, T-shirts and CD covers). The idea of a DIY culture, or metal work ethic, would be very familiar to anyone associated with metal. I’ve reflected on this often throughout my own life-in-metal. However, it really came into focus for me when I was visiting the United States after the first round of interviews (and was already thinking deeply about things participants had been telling me). Prior to a death metal gig at the Key Club, Los Angeles, I got to the venue early during sound check to chat with a young band who were excited to be playing first on the bill. While we were talking, I watched Erik Rutan (Ripping Corpse; Morbid Angel; Hate Eternal) load his own equipment into the venue. Later that night, after Hate Eternal played, he staffed his own merchandise table, sold some T-shirts and then loaded his own

‘Metal is My Drug’    43 gear out again. By metal standards, Rutan is a ‘famous’ guitarist and a highly successful producer. He is a key figure in death metal’s history and ongoing development and innovation. It’s doubtful to think that a performer of equal status in other musical genres would be running the day-to-day operations (in such fine detail) of their musical career. I reflect on this here to show that my participants hadn’t conjured this idea of a metal work ethic that they all talked about; the metal culture of ‘not relying on other people to do your shit’ (as Jake described it) is very real and visible to metalheads universally. It was fascinating to find just how far reaching the narrative constructions of a metal work ethic were presenting in other aspects of the young people’s lives – beyond the realm of making of metal and into other domains of making a life. Three things were really bound up in this: the narratives of individualism running through contemporary metal lyrics; the metal work ethic (or DIY culture); and the individualisation of ‘do-it-yourself’ biographies more generally in a changing modernity. Less clear is the direction of influence in this complicated relationship. Do metal narratives and practices inspire personal responsibility, or do they reinforce the individualised biographies that young people are already working on by virtue of growing up amid a tattered social fabric that’s preoccupied with looking out for number one? And within this, are there gendered nuances we ought to be paying attention to?

2.4 Girls Hurt and Hate Too I’ve written a lot so far about what male participants had to say about the appeal of listening to metal and the ways they used it for coping with the rigours of daily life. In this section, I will outline what female participants had to say. However, first I want to challenge some of Rafalovich’s ideas about masculinity and individualism in metal narratives, because I suspect he might be underestimating the impact of late modernity on the female biography. (Noting that this section does not reflect the experiences of non-binary gender identities intersecting with metal identities because regretfully I had no data on this to report.) According to Rafalovich (2006, p. 20), the ‘invocations of ultimate despair and ultimate triumph’ in today’s metal music can be understood as modern expressions of masculine individualism. He elaborates by arguing that: […] the masculine potential for social isolation, as well as the destruction of self and other, results from today’s ‘crisis of masculinity’, in which the current uncertainty of men’s social roles spurs a growing pessimism. Such discussions speak to issues concerning male socialization, more specifically, how cultural scripts of individuality and “standing alone” form the infrastructure of male identity. (Rafalovich, 2006, p. 20) What Rafalovich misses (or overlooks) here is the concomitant uncertainty of women’s social roles in a changing modernity, and sense of ‘standing alone’ to face it. Individualising forces have opened up new chances and scopes for many

44    Heavy Metal Youth Identities women in terms of their decision making and pathways in life. However, increased opportunities and choices also carry tremendous uncertainties and pressures for women – as Beck and Beck-Gernsheim (2001) have argued, women’s lives are now more open, but at the same time less protected than ever before (p. 56). My take on this (from reading widely and lived experience) is that the navigation of contemporary female life is fraught with expectations of maintaining traditional women’s roles of caring, mothering and home duties. It comes with the added expectation of at least contributing to household income, if not being solely responsible for household costs, which is an ever-increasing individual reality for many women (so too is the assumption this can all be achieved with unequal pay to that of male counterparts, but that is another story). All of this is complicated by a suite of lingering burdens on women to measure up aesthetically and conform to body image norms; and to comply with the emotional and physical needs of men, both inside and outside of intimate relationships, whether overtly or implicitly. Despite the advances made by strong advocates for women’s rights, the fact remains that the masculine stronghold on social, professional and personal relations is still a hugely determining force in women’s lives. Without rehashing the comprehensive broader feminist commentary on all of this, the specific questions this raises for me (in regard to narratives of individualism and dominance in metal music) are: Wouldn’t contemporary metal narratives of ‘rising up and taking control’ be just as important for female metalheads to help them self-talk about coping with life’s inevitable burdens and pressures? What about not fitting in and feeling ostracised from the social order at school? How does ‘not fitting in’ shape self-talk about success or failure at the socially normative ‘feminine’ task of community life, and how might metal narratives help to shape alternate biographies of inclusion for girls? And if men themselves are a source of pain for young women in terms of relationships and socialising and self-esteem, how might identifying with metal narratives of a galvanised self be helpful for ‘dealing’ with them too through ideations of dominance over oppressive forces, and countering hegemonic masculinity? These are not questions I’m seeking to answer here; I’m just raising them to provoke debate around assumptions that the individualism embedded in metal lyrics is solely indicative of the masculine biography in late modernity. Narratives of the broken self might be more stereotypically applied to the female biography (for a good discussion on the gendering of metal subgenres see Hill, 2011). However, I strongly suggest that narratives of dominance, or galvanising the self and rising up as Rafalovich puts it, might also have tremendous currency for the individualisation of contemporary female biographies. I say ‘might’, because I’m crossing the line here into thinking more about my own listening experience and use of metal narratives, rather than the girls I spoke to. Regretfully, the female cohort of my sample had much less to say about listening to metal than their male counterparts, so they didn’t shed much light on the questions above from a female youth perspective. The five female participants did all talk about listening to metal, but their comments were not as detailed as male participants (which could very well have been a failing on my part as an interviewer because I have more experience talking with young men in practice,

‘Metal is My Drug’    45 research and metal community settings). Danielle used the music as a surrogate for friendship and relied on the ‘meaningful lyrics to get her emotions out’, and Courtney found tremendous comfort from listening to both ‘angry and sad’ metal after her sister died. Deena and Jordan both loved the music, but they gravitated more towards talking about the live experience of watching bands play. Jordan was openly angrier than the other girls were; but, she tended to get this out in the mosh; she enjoyed the physicality of music and action together. Overall, the young women tended to give more detailed comments about wanting to set themselves apart from others rather than the listening experience; however, their comments do not represent women in metal generally because we know that the listening experience is extremely important for dedicated female metalheads universally (Riches, 2015; Vasan, 2011). Chloe was an exception and did talk more about the importance of the music. Chloe was not bullied at school. She was a high-achieving student and described her domestic situation as ‘loving and stable’ with two supportive parents. Her narrative, however, revealed her frustrations at being socially excluded from peer groups at school: I’m a really quiet and shy person, I had trouble socially in year eight and nine, I was just so recluse, I didn’t talk to anyone really. I started writing band logos on school folders and that. Even now I’m still quiet, and people are surprised when I say that my favourite music is metal. Metal music just feels so emotional and it’s intelligent too. Like I said, I didn’t have any troubles at home, but whenever I was mad I could just sit there and listen to it and it’d feel good. I know who I am, I know what I’m into, I don’t care what people think, but I used to care a lot what everyone thought … (Chloe) Chloe described herself as ‘a tiny, timid little mouse’ and said she ‘just didn’t feel confident’ approaching or joining in with peers, so she sat alone for the first three years of high school until she made another metal (‘loner’) friend in Year 10. She was also pretty mad with herself at times for ‘the way things panned out’ in high school. Peers at school had not actively excluded or ostracised her. However, Chloe was just too shy to join in and felt like she missed many social experiences because of this. Despite blaming herself for not being able to break into peer groups and make friends, she was thankful that she ‘at least had metal’ during this time because listening to metal would relieve her frustrations, lift her mood and give her the strength to keep ‘plodding on’. Getting ‘mad with herself’ and ‘getting her shit together’ was a clear use of metal narratives of a dominant self that is capable of rising up and defeating, in this case, herself.

2.5 ‘Metal is My Drug’ To this point, we’ve seen the importance of metal’s dynamic instrumentation and lyrical narratives for helping the metal youth to withstand some extremely sad and/or

46    Heavy Metal Youth Identities frustrating circumstances. Now, the chapter ends with a snapshot of some of the more general benefits of listening to metal in everyday life that were reported. A common metaphor used by participants to describe metal music was that of likening it to a drug. Indeed, many comments were made along the lines of metal being ‘better than drugs’: I have a couple of drinks now and again, but metal is my drug, that’s how I cope, it’s something I take every day. I can’t function without it. I think if I actually met any of my favourite bands I’d just thank them cos I had depression for a while and it was music that kept me going … (Luke) Being the mama’s boy I am I didn’t wanna go out and find drugs or start drinking myself stupid or picking fights cos I knew I’d get bashed so I needed something. Now I listen to metal every day, even now at work, it becomes the sound track of your life and you work it out … (Jake) I guess just the anger in the music does help as well somehow. You’d think if you’re angry and you listened to angry metal it would make you even angrier, but it does exactly opposite, it just kills it and absorbs the anger completely and makes you feel much better. Metal’s a safer crutch than a lot of other things you can do to yourself to get by if you’re in that angry state, rather than drinking or taking drugs or anything like that … (David) Everyone’s got their own ways of coping, metal’s pretty positive when you consider the average person relies on alcohol … (Alex) I probed them further on drug and alcohol usage; one participant out of 28 told me he’d smoked marijuana at a festival, and four told me they had ‘a beer or two’ at shows. I also asked if other drugs were common in the metal scene and Alex, Serge and Tim all told me that chemical drugs were a better fit for ‘fist pumpers’ (people who go to dance clubs) than metalheads. I feel way safer at metal clubs than dance clubs where there’s pills left, right and centre, you never know who’s gonna be in there. Metal people aren’t out to mess around, they’re just there to see the bands, hear the music, have a beer and chill out … (Alex) It’s fucked that other people get so off their head on drugs and go to dance clubs and stuff and tell you they had such an amazing time, man who would wanna miss or forget anything about seeing a metal band play? That’d just be retarded … (Glen) As the quotes here attest, these young people were making conscious decisions to listen to metal instead of taking drugs or drinking alcohol; and what they had to say about this conflicts with previous academic speculation that metal

‘Metal is My Drug’    47 preferences are a risk factor for substance (mis)use (e.g. see Bobakova et al., 2012a, 2012b; Leung & Kier, 2010). Despite the consistency of what participants said about rejecting binge drinking and drug use, I make no claims (from a sample of 28 young people) that alcohol and other drugs are not a problem in the metal community. What I can say is that substances were not reported as a problem for these young people. (I am also cognisant of the possibility that they could have been protecting the metal subculture, even though I didn’t feel this was the case through getting to know them).

If it Feels Good, Do it We know how stress manifests in the mind and body. Thus, it shouldn’t be surprising that the metal youth talked about the benefits of listening to metal for reducing emotional and physical symptoms of stress in tandem. Alex gave a detailed account of how this worked for him on a daily basis in response to the more general frustrations of growing up: It really gets me furious when people say “That kid’s angry cos he listens to metal”, people don’t get it. You can’t judge someone for listening to metal or blame metal for anger, if anything, metal is there to help. When you’re a teenager you don’t wanna be around your parents, by year ten I’d regularly come home from school, go straight to my room, crank Slayer or something, and that’s the best feeling I reckon, totally, just crank some double bass, it’s a positive release, and I don’t think people understand that. I think most people still don’t understand that metal makes you feel better for releasing anger, it doesn’t make you angry, it makes your whole body feel better afterwards – cos you can yell, cos you wanna yell, and rather than do it verbally to another person you can just do it with the music and bang your head and get it out. It wasn’t that I’d been bullied or whatever, more just like general frustration, I think it’s just the hormones, your hormones are going crazy and you sorta need that extra level of craziness to help you with that. Metal is perfect cos it’s just all over the place, I don’t think Celine Dion’s gonna come in handy for that [laughs]. There was a clear consensus among participants that listening to metal had a soothing effect on ‘calming them down’. But they also reported that the energy of metal music had a highly motivating effect for ‘cranking them up’: Metal gives me the mind set to get out there and get it done. No, fuck it, I’m not gonna sit on my ass and whine, I’m gonna figure out how to better myself so that shit doesn’t happen again and I don’t have to go through it again, and that’s another reason why listening to metal creates really strong people, you know how bad

48    Heavy Metal Youth Identities something made you feel so you’re not gonna go off and do that shit to someone else, you’re gonna be a better person … (Jake) In Malaysia I saw this mountain and thought, man I wanna climb it. I did it, it took me a good day and a half. You camp half way, get up at two o’clock in the morning and keep going to the very top. My legs were caned, I couldn’t walk properly after that for days, but it was an awesome accomplishment. I got to the top listening to metal, it’s just that energy man, metal just has something about it, it just gives you that belief and fire … (Alex) Jake’s and Alex’s quotes don’t align with the stereotypical profiling of metalheads as apathetic and demotivated that have been put forth in the academic and popular literature. Other participants further reported that listening to metal was a motivator for completing schoolwork, testing one’s self physically and mentally and enhancing tenacity at a range of tasks. This may not be the case for all young metalheads, but those I came to know through this research certainly challenged the long-standing stereotypes of metal youth as being rather useless, showing that they are in fact quite capable of much more than some would believe. (In Part Two of this book, we will see some significant positive outcomes that were motivated by metal, indeed, much bigger life outcomes than climbing a mountain.)

Concluding Remarks The metal youth voiced a strong and unanimous conviction throughout this chapter that listening to metal ‘is good, and good for you’ (Drew). Through this, we’ve seen some rather predictable ways they enjoyed metal, and how it helped them to cope with challenges and stress, and we’ve also seen some more unexpected things (to me, at least) like the use of metal narratives to construct a sense of superiority over oppressors. Okay, so we get that listening to metal is ‘awesome’ for a whole bunch of reasons. But why take the next step of embodying a metal identity that others can see and know? I explore this question next, in Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’: Embodying Metal Identities for Social Protection Chapter 2 explored how difficult feelings and emotions could be alleviated by listening to metal. But why make the shift to embodying metal as well? Why go public with a visible declaration of a metal identity that others can see and know? In this chapter, I look at interesting youth perspectives on embodying metal identities as a form of social protection. By this, I mean that the metal youth were able to draw on metal’s negative stereotypes to create a ‘scary’ metal persona that could intimidate, shock or repel (non-metal) people whom they viewed as being a threat to their wellbeing; particularly, bullies or popular peer groups at school. To set the scene, I begin by framing these ideas more generally as a triad of experience, feeling and action (which would likely apply to a variety of early subcultural formations). I then explore the structuring of marginal school-based identities (experience) and provide nuanced perspectives on ways that class, race and gender not only intersect, but can also be further complicated by a range of individual circumstances, taking in factors like body image, physical attributes, social charisma, family dynamics and relative poorness. Through this, I will show that individualised systems of marginalisation built from diverse pieces of social (un)desirability can expose young people as vulnerable (or at least feeling vulnerable) to bullying and/or rejection by dominant peer groups. But crucially, I will also show that participants were able to disrupt hegemonic power relations and gendered norms at school by embodying ‘chosen’ metal identities as a strategic response for countering ‘unchosen’ marginal school-based identities (action). Subcultural formations have long been viewed as collective political resistances against society’s dominant culture of the time (Blackman, 2005) – but, here we will see interesting developments in ways that contemporary metal identities can be deployed as politically transformative strategies at the level of the

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 49–69 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181003

50    Heavy Metal Youth Identities individual – enabling young people to reclaim a sense of power and enter into social relationships on their own terms. Throughout this chapter, I explore ways that embodying metal identities and self-empowerment went hand in hand for boosting confidence and self-esteem and fostering an improved sense of wellbeing, resilience and purpose for those feeling socially vulnerable at school. Portions of this chapter were first published in Rowe (2017b).

3.1 Power Relations at School: Experience, Feeling and Action In Chapter 2, much was said about the importance of listening to metal as a coping tool to manage the pain of feeling rejected or like an outsider; particularly, in the school environment that was the main social environment at the time participants were ‘becoming metal’. When I spoke to them about what was going on at that time, they described their social experiences at school as ranging from outright bullying and humiliation by dominant peer groups, rejection by certain groups, feelings of ‘just not fitting in’, an awareness of just not measuring up to popular peers and expectations or simply feeling vulnerable to any of these things occurring in the future. Whether there are clear patterns of overt bullying or young people simply feel outside of the social hierarchy and work around that, power relations in schools are obviously a major issue sparking intense emotional reactions for the young people engaged in them (much as they have been since schools first opened for business). But, youth cultures, methods of technology and communication and broader social dynamics are perpetually evolving. Thus, we need to keep step with how it feels to be on the margins of school culture and learn how young people devise their own strategies for managing this. Indeed, there must be many strategies for evading or reducing bullying that we are yet to learn from young people. But here, heavy metal provides a compelling case study for investigating how some young people deal with social rejection (and its variants) as they navigate high school life in a changing modernity (Rowe, 2017b). To frame these ideas, I started by thinking about the experiences of rejection or exclusion by peers, what that might feel like for young people and how they might manage these feelings and situations at school. At home, they ‘cranked some metal’ and used the music as an important coping tool, but how did they cope at school when they couldn’t listen to metal all day long? Next, I provide an overview of how I analytically framed the ‘pieces’ of experience, feeling and action to help me look more deeply at the role metal played in their strategies for getting by at school.

Experience Reviewing some general research literature on bullying and social rejection in high school settings gave me some context for what the metal youth were saying about feeling socially vulnerable and being ‘outsiders’ at school. For example, Walton and Niblett (2012) found that students in their study were consistently

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    51 able to articulate two different dimensions of power in bullying relationships. First, students identified individual differences of power between peers and described potential ‘victims’ in these power relations as shy, lacking confidence or generally being viewed as somewhat defenceless (p. 5). The second dimension of power that students identified was based on social differences whereby bullies put people down due to certain characteristics, which were perceived as different or out of the norm – and students referred to those in this category as unwelcome ‘outsiders’ (p. 7). In each case, Walton and Niblett’s participants showed a clear understanding of the characteristics of someone who could be bullied, or who is an ‘outsider’. This suggests to me that young people in general will know precisely where they fit in the social order at school (whether this is enacted in any way). Thus, they need to be continually assessing their social options regardless of current behaviours towards them by others (Rowe, 2017b). To complicate matters, ‘getting it right’ among peers at school can be even tougher in the face of changing patterns of mobility in the twenty-first century – young people from diverse social backgrounds are mixing socially more than ever before, with growing implications for the ways that power relations can be uniquely configured for each young person outside of (or as well as) the more ‘traditional’ social categories of classed, raced and gendered norms and expectations. According to Touraine (2007), all individuals and groups find themselves in various relations of power or domination and the banal reality is that ‘social life and social relations are based on a plurality of domination and conflicts’ (p. 151). Schooling, however, can serve as a particularly intense period of social relations that shape youth identity formations, whether positively or negatively. Social experiences at school can be rich and rewarding, or they can be challenging and hurtful (and often a combination of both). Either way, these experiences shape our sense of identity and self-worth, or the intensity of this is magnified at school because young people have fewer options compared with adults for exercising power and trialling different positions in the social order. The school environment is a hotbed for recreating the social intricacies of the outside world in preparation for adulthood; schooling can function as a dress rehearsal for adult lives and identities where winners and losers abound. In the school context, this plays out as being either accepted or rejected by dominant or popular peer groups – and in the case of the metal youth I spoke with, there was a universal feeling of being rejected by popular peers at school.

Feeling What sort of feelings then can this sense of rejection, or even vulnerability, give rise to? The most common term used by the metal youth to describe how they were feeling was ‘being disrespected’ by others. Emotions are another matter (albeit closely entwined): many reported being angry and/or sad about being humiliated or bullied, but the different configurations of emotions were all brought about by the underlying feeling of not being respected by peers. In his thesis on disrespect and the denial of recognition, Honneth (1995) argued that the experience of being socially denigrated or humiliated endangers

52    Heavy Metal Youth Identities the identity of human beings, just as infection with a disease endangers their physical life: [...] in the self-descriptions of those who see themselves as having been wrongly treated by others, the moral categories that play a dominant role are those – such as ‘insult’ or ‘humiliation’ – that refer to forms of disrespect, that is, to the denial of recognition… the experience of being disrespected carries with it the danger of an injury that can bring the identity of the person as a whole to the point of collapse. (Honneth, 1995, pp. 131–132) Relating this back to the school environment, I was interested in Honneth’s perspective on social humiliation as a moral injury. This is so because he further suggested that the comparison with physical illness (the hurt and pain of rejection) means that the subject is (or can be) aware of the state they are in, which is a crucial factor for being motivated to do something about it: It is only because human beings are incapable of reacting in emotionally neutral ways to social injuries [...] that the normative patterns of mutual recognition found in the social lifeworld have any chance of being realized. For each of the negative emotional reactions that accompany the experience of having one’s claims to recognition disregarded holds out the possibility that the injustice done to one will cognitively disclose itself and become a motive for political resistance. (Honneth, 1995, p. 138) Honneth emphasised that in such emotionally charged experiences, ‘what one comes to realize about oneself is that one’s own person is constitutively dependent on the recognition of others’ (1995, p. 138), bringing the relational nature of reflexive identity formations sharply into focus. How others see us is vitally important for our own understanding of ourselves and our identity, for better or worse, and these exchanges are central to identity building in the school environment. While Honneth makes a compelling story – that feeling disrespected or denied recognition in social life motivates a political struggle for recognition in other ways – it might be that not everyone wants to be recognised (in the ways Honneth described). Some people simply might not want to be hurt and so warding off emotional pain is their primary motivation (rather than biographically constructing acts of political resistance). Interesting questions arise from this: how do metal youth narrate their motivation for constructing a metal identity? Is there evidence that they view ‘becoming metal’ as a transformative political strategy? Or, do they narrate metal identity work as a personal project of the self, possibly one of escape or evasion?

Action In her work on bullying and power in schools, Søndergaard (2012) also picked up on ideas similar to Honneth’s; particularly, that being assigned a subordinate

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    53 social status amounts to a deprivation of respect that can spark a strong desire for recognition and justice that is not being met. So, how can one go about this? What are the options for either fitting in and gaining acceptance, or reclaiming power in other ways? Conformity might be the first choice for some, to try to fit in. However, this might not be possible depending on the reasons one is being left out or ostracised. Therefore, resistance against dominant norms and expectations might become a viable alternate solution. When thinking about how the metal youth approached this, I found it useful to draw on Bottrell’s (2007) work on ‘chosen’ and ‘unchosen’ identity formations. In framing her study of schooling and truancy in high-poverty contexts, Bottrell conceptualised resistance as: [...] an alternative to individualised conceptualisations of oppositional behaviour and personal deficit that are decontextualised from social conditions. Resistances are defined as practices which express opposition to rules and norms in specific contexts, and which contain critiques of social relations, from the lived experience of marginalisation. The argument here is not for ­ ­resistance as class consciousness but as ‘identity work’. (Bottrell, 2007, p. 599) Bottrell also understood the motivation for resistance as a struggle deriving from two distinct forms of identification: [...] that which is claimed and desired, or ‘chosen’; and the ‘unchosen’ identity, which is ascribed by others and defined by social position. Young people’s struggles to be, and be seen as, who they are, may be seen as struggles for chosen, and against unchosen, social identities. (Bottrell, 2007, pp. 607–608) According to Bottrell (2007), young people negotiate the ‘constraints and opportunities for expressing who they are’ by either accepting or rejecting the cultural norms, which they encounter in schools and in the community (p. 607). Bottrell’s study was focused on young people’s responses to marginal identities associated with poverty and stigma. However, I strongly believe that the idea of chosen identity formations can be usefully applied beyond high-poverty contexts – one only needs to take up the ‘fly on the wall’ position in any school for a brief period to hear the disparaging labelling and name calling that takes place. Whatever one’s social or economic circumstances (or classed position), I argue that unchosen identities are socially ascribed (and enforced) based on being unable to achieve (or maintain) normative category membership relative to one’s own social circumstances. This offers explanatory value for looking at how unchosen identities were structured and ascribed to participants growing up in a range of social and classed contexts, before looking at ways they formed  chosen metal identities as a response to these marginal, or ‘outsider’ school-based identities.

54    Heavy Metal Youth Identities

3.2 The Complex Structuring of ‘Unchosen’ School-Based Identities Normative constructions of class, race and gender have long been the backbone of investigations into how inequality is experienced. However, for many young people, inequality and marginalisation in the school context are manifested through a more nuanced and complex system of power relations embedded in normative category membership and maintenance: School communities are regulated, both officially through pedagogical practices and unofficially through social groupings, through normative category membership and category maintenance. Practices of inclusion and exclusion through which membership and maintenance are accomplished are not stable [...] not always possible to ‘get right’. In the face of this instability, in the face of the need to constantly monitor and maintain those boundaries, some children are vulnerable to a violation they never saw coming – as either ‘bully’ or ‘victim’. (Bansel, Davies, Laws, & Linnell, 2009, p. 66) It is clear from Bansel et al.’s quote that many aspects of school culture might be open to investigation. And while matters of pedagogy, curriculum and studentteacher relations can certainly come to bear on students’ identity formations and sense of self, the focus here is on understanding complex ways the social order is structured and regulated by dominant peer groups, and what this means for the identity constructions of those who don’t fit in. Clearly, classed, raced and gendered ‘norms’ have ongoing implications for youth identities; however, we will also see some interesting twists that can shape the identity biographies of millennial youth.

Biographies of Exclusion: The Complex Structuring of ‘Unchosen’ School-Based Identities In Chapter 2, we learned that Jake was bullied in high school and we saw how important it was for him to come home and listen to metal to help alleviate his anger and frustrations. Here, we look at what led to the bullying in the first place by exploring his experience of ‘relative poorness’ in the context of his middleclass high school environment. His mother, who worked as a cleaner and received no financial assistance from his father, raised Jake. Still, she had grown up in a middle-class family herself and insisted on a private education for Jake and so, with the help of a Federal government fee-subsidisation scheme for low-income families, she enrolled him in an all-boys Christian college: That was the most depressing time of my life, it was an all-boys Christian school and it was a rich school, everyone was talking about me coming in poor. They’d spend up big at the canteen and I had a crappy vegemite sandwich to last me the whole day …

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    55 Jake’s mother was quite savvy at accessing welfare benefits and entitlements for sole parents; she was able to secure rent assistance payments in order to rent a home in one of Adelaide’s more socio-economically advantaged areas. Jake’s sense of being ‘poor’ was relative to his peers; a vivid memory for him was that his peers possessed the latest gaming consoles whereas he ‘got by with Super Nintendo’: The drawback is you go to good schools and you’re that odd one out. An example is I had to wait ages for a Super Nintendo when PS 1 and X Box were reigning supreme. It sounds pathetic but at a young age that really fucks with you, it was the only way to fit in, without it you’re just fucking gone. I was the weird kid sitting in the corner alone cos I didn’t wanna go out and get picked on … Jake told me that ‘sooking over an outdated gaming console probably sounded pathetic’. But in fact, relative poorness had brought about real and significant consequences for his sense of identity, and it affected negatively on his mental health in the process. Jake had been tagged with the unchosen identity of ‘a pov’ that he wasn’t able to shake; he was labelled by peers with a hurtful nickname and rumours were spread about him at school which further escalated into physical threats and outright bullying (Rowe, 2017b). Jake’s narrative resonates with Walton and Niblett’s (2012) argument that capitalism has created new forms of discrimination for young people. This is a real concern in the school environment because negative relationships have been found between consumerism and depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, parent–child conflict and overall poor life satisfaction (Sweeting, Hunt, & Bhaskar, 2012). According to Sweeting et al. (2012), a perceived need to compete in the consumerism stakes is felt more acutely by young people growing up in poor neighbourhoods in a bid to feel more secure about themselves or ‘measure up’. However, Jake’s narrative shows us that relative disadvantage can be similarly consequential for wellbeing and can occur across various socio-economic contexts (Rowe, 2017b). Luke’s situation, however, was quite different to Jake’s. Luke did grow up in a very poor neighbourhood but two main things that were not economically driven determined his marginal identity at school: his physical appearance and his social isolation due to family circumstances. Luke had been picked on for his weight, his ‘crazy’ hair, and his prescription eyeglasses: he also told me there were cruel jokes and rumours being spread at school about him and his sister because they had missed so much time away from school together caring for their terminally ill mother (remembering his father was already deceased some years earlier). Luke had also been called a ‘fag and an emo’ because of his depressed state after his mother passed away: I did tell someone about the bullying but no one listened. For me that was a case of fuck you all, I’m not gonna go to school if this shit’s gonna happen. They picked on me for my weight, my hair, whatever, kids being kids. Growing up and having all those troubles, it seems like everyone’s against you, and yeah, that’s the breaking point, you have to do something …

56    Heavy Metal Youth Identities MacDonald and Shildrick (2013) have written on the deeper level complexities of coping with bereavement for young people growing up in disadvantaged neighbourhoods – and this was certainly evident in Luke’s narrative; particularly, in his caring responsibilities at a very young age which resulted in him missing so much school and not having strong peer networks. Growing up poor had an obvious bearing on how Luke’s circumstances unfolded, but the bullies at school (who were also growing up poor) focussed on his physical appearance and family dynamics as a basis for degrading him at school. Through Luke’s experience, we can see the composite and progressive structuring of the unchosen identity ascribed to him at school that was built from elements of social disadvantage, masculine norms (being a ‘fag and an emo’ for showing sadness), and non-normative family dynamics (Rowe, 2017b). (Note: being called a ‘fag’ shows a clear undercurrent of hegemonic masculine norms shaping Luke’s unchosen identity; but for non-metal readers, I point out that being called an emo also constitutes a gendered attack on Luke’s masculinity because of dominant perceptions linking emo preferences with ‘emotional’ female youth – see Hill, 2011 for a detailed examination of this). While Jake and Luke showed clear examples of being tagged with unchosen identities at school, some participants showed interesting variations of this in terms of predicting, or feeling vulnerable to rejection in the future, even if it wasn’t already being enacted. For example, Alex described one of the least problematic experiences of schooling, which makes his story interesting for revealing some of the subtler ways that marginal positions can be experienced (or imagined) in the school environment. Alex grew up living with both parents in what he described as a ‘nice enough area’. Alex commenced high school with the same core group of friends he had in primary school, they were a small group but had consistently been friends through most of their primary schooling. He described the first two years of high school as ‘pretty uneventful and cruisy’. He continued to ‘hang out’ with his friends and they went about their daily business ‘without any hassles’. Several things, however, were changing in Alex’s life as he entered his senior years of high school. Some of his friends were ‘gifted’ students and were being channelled into Students-with-High-Intellectual-Potential programmes, which began to fracture his once solid peer network. With 2 years of high school already complete, Alex had many opportunities to witness others being picked on at school and was well aware of the characteristics of those who were targeted. He described himself as being quite shy and lacking in confidence outside his group, and he was beginning to develop some doubts about how he would get on socially without them if they drifted apart (Rowe, 2017b). Alex’s narrative shows an interesting twist to how internal dialogue is shaped through social experiences – he did not have a direct experience of being bullied or rejected; his sense of vulnerability came from ‘connecting the dots’ himself through an awareness of who is likely to be victimised at school. He told me that he didn’t play sport at school, had ‘crazy hair’ that was ‘out of control’ and felt quite ‘goofy’ as he was growing taller and really ‘wasn’t sure how he’d fit in’ with

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    57 other groups. Having constructed a biography of vulnerability, Alex then turned this around by drawing on metal culture to re-author a biography of survival and triumph over vulnerability, as we will see later. Like Alex, Tim also told me he ‘struck out’ in numerous areas of social desirability at his school. He was not athletically gifted (or inclined), yet sport and athletics played a very big part in his school culture. Also, most of the student population at his school were from Italian or Greek families, placing Tim in an ethnic minority given that he was one of the few ‘Aussies’ at his school. He also didn’t like car racing and other sports and music that the popular students enjoyed. Tim’s story shows another dimension to ways that classed, raced and gendered norms can be further complicated by other school norms; in this case, drawn from leisure pursuits, music preferences and r­eligious ­affiliations (Rowe, 2017b). Tim had taken a personal inventory and weighed up his options with the social groups at school. Rather than trying to find a way to fit in, he decided to make a point of resisting against the popular groups at his school: I guess going to an all guys’ school there’s a lot of testosterone, everyone’s gunning to look good so you try and go towards a group that’ll embrace you, for me that was metal. I started wearing metal shirts to school and I tried to grow my hair as long as I could. In year ten, cos it was a Christian school, I’d wear my Deicide shirt to school, even one of my mates who wasn’t into metal started looking into the Satanic bible a lot and we were bringing that in and reading it. I think with my school being Christian, well I guess a bit of it was just trying to start a fire, a bit of that definitely. I guess just trying to not get grouped in with certain other groups … Like Alex, Tim narrated an awareness of structured norms at school that can shape the possibility of being rejected or excluded, whether or not this is enacted in any way. It is important to show these variations alongside the boys who were outright bullied because, not only do they highlight some of the more common motivations manifesting themselves through metal practices, but also show interesting variations in the social contexts they spring from (Rowe, 2017b). (It was further interesting that when Tim talked about ‘going towards a group that’ll embrace you’, there wasn’t actually a group of metalheads at his school; this was his construction of an imagined sense of alternate belonging, which will be explored more fully in Chapter 4.) The girls I spoke to were also tagged with unchosen identities at school, or at least felt vulnerable to ‘copping it’ somewhere down the track. Jordan wasn’t outright bullied, but she did have complex family circumstances that resulted in being moved back and forth between different family members and missing a lot of schooling in between. She was quite defensive about what others thought, telling me that ‘everyone talks shit about you when you’re not at school’.

58    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Each time Jordan returned to school, she had made some sort of alteration to her appearance which was progressively becoming more extreme (by her definition) with multiple facial piercings, half a shaved head and, like most participants, she always wore metal T-shirts and had band logos written on her belonging at school: I never felt depressed or unfairly done by, I just definitely wanted to be different, I wanted people to be shocked. The popular kids would say “Oh, there must be something wrong with you”. Jordan described the popular students at length, especially the girls, and told in detail how she would never fit in with them, which she said was just as well because she ‘didn’t like anything they were about’. Like others, Jordan was being pro-active about avoiding exclusion by taking measures to ensure she was selfexcluded on her own terms (Rowe, 2017b). She was actively resisting against feminine norms with each alteration to her appearance. Danielle had moved around a lot and attended numerous high schools. She told me she was ‘already shy to start with’, but ‘got quieter each time’ she started a new school because she had cumulative experiences of not being accepted as ‘the new kid’ and ‘just knew how it would turn out anyway’. She also thought that being ‘a tiny little mouse’ didn’t command respect from peers: I didn’t get beaten up and stuff at school, I think it’s more the nonphysical side of bullying, just how you’re treated, basic disrespect pretty much. I just always seem to get people who treat me low because of my size, and because I’m quiet and stuff … Jordan’s response to not fitting in was to get ‘louder and bolder’ over time; whereas, Danielle did quite the opposite and became even more ‘introverted and recluse’. As different as their personalities were, the common factor was aligning with metal to stake a uniqueness and provide a frame and purpose for being different to others, which was highly protective for their mental health. As we have seen across the sample, experiences of rejection were complex ranging from outright physical and emotional bullying to feeling socially vulnerable in more subtle ways. But regardless of where the metal youth sat on this continuum, they all expressed unchosen identity tags like ‘reject’, ‘outsider’, ‘nobody’, ‘weird’, ‘outcast’ and ‘random’ to describe their marginal positioning at school (Rowe, 2017b). On one hand, we can see how a range of unchosen identities were uniquely configured and experienced differently by participants, but we can also see common patterns in how they biographically understood their marginal status. In their above-mentioned quotes, Tim and Jordan began describing their early ‘trialling’ of a metal aesthetic as a response to popular peers. Next I will examine the processes of becoming recognisable as a metalhead in much more depth by exploring the embodiment of chosen metal identities to counter unchosen identities.

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    59

3.3 Public Injuries Require a Public Response We’ve seen that listening to metal at home was really useful for regulating feelings and emotions, but now we’re looking at social relations in the public domain of schooling giving rise to the sorts of moral injuries, like being disrespected, that Honneth was talking about. This section explores how the metal youth managed this by examining the allure of learning to embody a metal identity in public spaces, and what they perceived to get out of this. When writing on the polemics of subcultural studies, Hodkinson (2012, p. 14) argued that the continuing importance of studying ‘common and ordinary dimensions of outwardly spectacular youth cultures’ should not reduce the concomitant importance of studying the more unique aspects of subcultural content, practices and ideas. He suggested that a useful approach would be to advance subcultural research towards an understanding of the ways in which ‘apparently common motivations and practices manifest themselves through extra-ordinary content, practices, experiences and levels of commitment’ (p. 14): Put simply, this perspective calls for greater attention to be paid to the group-distinct elements of how subcultural practices feel, from the experience of listening to particular forms of music, to participating in distinct physical activities (dancing, skating, surfing), to adorning or modifying the body. (Hodkinson, 2012, p. 9) The idea of exploring how subcultural practices feel in the early phase of metal identity formations became very interesting to me. I wondered, from the vantage point of the metal youth: how it might feel to pull on a T-shirt with rotting corpses and profane slogans on it and step out into the world and/or alter one’s appearance in other symbolic ways. Why is it so important to signal a metal identity to others? Are there apparently common motivations manifesting themselves through extra-ordinary metal practices, as Hodkinson suggested? And, if so, what are they? The very long conversations I had with the young metalheads began to answer some of these questions for me, and taught me a lot more about embodying metal identities than I anticipated learning. Next, the metal youth tell us in their own words how it felt to turn up at school as a lone metalhead, and signal a metal identity to non-metal peers.

Why to go Public with a Metal Identity? As a precondition for forming a public metal persona all participants had prior exposure to metal music and culture, mostly through consuming metal media at home and on the Internet. First, they reported a deep appreciation and enjoyment of the music itself. But, as an identity choice, metal was appealing because it was highly accessible online (Spracklen, 2015); it was relatively inexpensive to style oneself as a metalhead (growing hair long, buying metal T-shirts); metal knowledge and cultural commodities could be easily acquired through the

60    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Internet (Brown, 2010); and the ‘uniform’ of being a metalhead displayed an achievement of belonging that could be seen and read on the body by others (Rowe, 2016). So, while other identity choices might have been available, metal was particularly alluring because it came with a highly favoured soundtrack, it was relatively easy and inexpensive to join, and as we shall see, it produced some ‘good’ social outcomes. Importantly, metal identity formations could be undertaken alone which was a key consideration for ‘outsiders’ without strong peer networks, and for those who felt very much alone in trying to manage their circumstances at school (Rowe, 2017b). Jake reflected on the strong role that learning to embody a chosen metal identity played in his ability to cope with bullying at school: I told once [about the bullying] and it got worse after that so I thought fuck it, I need some way to deal with it myself. I started growing my hair as long as I could and I’d wear Slipknot shirts and draw band logos on everything and write Slayer on my arm, you get instant respect. All through the senior years I barely spoke a word, I would’ve been voted most likely to come back with a gun and shoot everyone. You think about bashing them, but if you can just intimidate them and get them to pull back, then you’ve won, you’ve got ’em. It was a way to shield myself. It’s just like a defence thing, I mean being metal is intimidating for some people, come on, you’ve got a dead corpse on your shirt! Yeah in a way it’s reflecting don’t talk to me, not that you’ll do any harm, but you’ve had enough bad experiences, you just don’t wanna deal with it anymore, this is a way to kind of keep people at bay, just a way to deal with the shit at school. In saying ‘you get instant respect’, Jake clarifies the benefits of going public with a metal persona and speaks directly to my point about public injuries requiring a public response. However, underneath this, there are interesting forces unique to metal that enable this outcome. During the interviews, Jake discussed moral panics and negative depictions of metal that have received global media attention following significant events like the well-documented school shooting at Columbine High School in 1999. He described how popular media represents brooding, loner metalheads at school as ‘ticking time bombs’ and he felt that peers at school knew this too; in short, Jake had the ‘cultural script’ (Kiilakoski & Oksanen, 2011) available for him to perform a ‘scary’ metal persona and be viewed as dangerous at school and ‘keep people at bay’. This was Jake’s perception of what others thought; however, we cannot know whether this was the case. It is important to note here that Jake was adamant he was a ‘mama’s boy’ and he would not, and could not, actually harm anyone, which is precisely why the ability to intimidate people and keep them at bay without engaging in physical violence was so important (Rowe, 2017b).

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    61 Violent ideas or fantasies were one thing, but actual violence was another story. While listening to narratives of violence and domination in metal songs (and imagining ‘bad shit happening to bullies’), Jake told me he also enjoyed playing violent video games because ‘you can’t do that in real life’. However, he talked at length about how much he loved animals and valued all life forms, and said that if he saw someone in real life with a bullet wound, he ‘wouldn’t stand there and think it was awesome’, he would ‘freak out and get help’. Darrell also affirmed that much of the bullying he experienced at school subsided when he grew his hair long and he started to visibly ‘look metal’: People thought “Geez this guy’s gonna kill all of us”. I didn’t do it [embody a metal identity] specifically for that purpose, it just sort of came about, it actually works in your favour sometimes when people are scared to harass you. It worked and they thought that I burned down a church, although I never said that, but there was a rumour going around that I was calling demons into people’s houses – cos for casual day I came [to the Christian school] in a Slayer shirt and bullet belt and they freaked out. Like Jake, Darrell also narrated an awareness that playing on negative stereotypes of metal ‘worked’ for him at school, despite his assertion that he had not set out to create the effect and that it ‘just sort of came about’. There was, however, a firm foundation to support this ‘just coming about’ because the mainstream media attention on extreme metal around that time, coupled with the lingering post-Columbine moral panics (Griffith, 2010), would have likely helped to create the cultural script of a dangerous persona for Darrell (as it had also done for others) and fuel the beneficial rumours circulating about him at school (Rowe, 2017b). Mark had also been bullied at school and was tagged with the unchosen identity of ‘the fat kid’. Through learning to embody a chosen metal identity, Mark was able exploit his size by wearing metal shirts and adopting an aggressive demeanour at school for good outcomes: Well you can see the size of me, I’ve still got a stomach on me, but I used to get called fat all the time. People might have thought they were playing around but that shit gets old after a while. I started wearing black a lot and I could always grow decent facial hair but it was a bit scruffier then. Every time I walked anywhere through the school I’d always have this stern look on my face, so walking around like that, and once again with my size, I found that as you were walking towards people they’d just go around you and it felt good to know they’re the ones worried about you now … Mark’s construction of ‘others being worried about him now’ was dependent on his ability to perform a stereotypical ‘dangerous’ metal persona. Luke also felt that he turned things around at school once he started embodying a ‘scary’ metal

62    Heavy Metal Youth Identities identity in public spaces. Luke described how he reached ‘breaking point’ around Year 10 and, at that time, he started getting facial piercings and exclusively wearing metal shirts to school. Like Mark, he described how people started giving him ‘a wide berth’ and that he felt significant relief when people stopped approaching him because they ‘were getting scared of him’: It sucked going back to school after mum died. I was a loner and I was angry. I started getting piercings at the same time and everyone kind of gave me a wide berth cos I kicked it right into gear. I ramped it right up and that’s when it was piercings and everything, like nah, let’s go, and everyone gave me a wide berth, like pretty much don’t fuck with him, and it was good. Like for me, these were the kids that used to bully me and tease me, now that they were giving me this much wider berth, I could breathe just a little bit and I like it that way, it’s comforting to have that much personal space. As other participants had done, Luke also embodied a ‘dangerous’ metal persona as a strategy for avoiding fights, rather than provoking or participating in them. In fact, a strong desire to avoid conflict with peers was consistent across the entire sample, mounting a significant challenge to assumptions that metal youth might be more prone to violent and/or aggressive behaviours towards others (Rowe, 2017b). This is important information here because a causal relationship between metal lyrics and aggressive/violent behaviour has often been implied without evidence. (For an example of ways that academic reporting has contributed to the spurious classification of metal lyrics as violent and causative see Brummert Lennings & Warburton, 2011.) It was clear that the metal youth I spoke to were very keen to avoid verbal or physical altercations of any type; they just wanted to be left alone at school. This stood out in Luke’s narrative when he made multiple references to the success of being ‘given a wide berth’, being able to ‘breathe just a little bit’ and taking comfort in finally having ‘personal space’ after he learned to embody his metal identity. Other participants also used metaphors such as ‘keeping people at bay’, ‘having people steer clear or go around you’, ‘breathing space’, ‘personal space’ and ‘finally having space’ to depict success at ‘finally being left alone’ in hostile school environments. The ‘success’ of being left alone as a metalhead is further interesting to note against the backdrop of recent discussions about the victimisation of alternative subcultures (including goths, punks, skaters, emos and metalheads in this group). Garland and Hodkinson (2014) have raised important awareness about the harassment of members of these groups because of their subcultural status (and often, aesthetic) [my emphasis]. But, in an interesting twist, my participants were counting on being negatively stereotyped in order to repel social threats to their wellbeing (Rowe, 2017b). The high-level fearmongering and negative depictions of metal youth that we saw in Chapter 1 were actually supporting the good (or preferred) outcomes of ‘being left alone’.

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    63 Understanding how the metal subculture was used to create a ‘safe space’ (even if only temporally) is critical information here because, to paraphrase Macklem (2003, p. 61), a young person’s options for managing social threats at school are severely limited by the fact that they are ‘trapped’ in their school environments and often cannot avoid being drawn in to power relations – unless they feign illness or truant (as Luke had done) which is only a temporary reprieve and does nothing to address the balance of power. Young people have no choice over which students they are placed with and, if they feel threatened in any way, cannot easily get to a safe place (Macklem, 2003, p. 61). Yet, here we can see that the embodiment of chosen metal identities was extremely useful for putting a ‘safe space’ between oneself and social threats, and for feeling as though they had disrupted the balance of power in the process (Rowe, 2017b). To this point, we have seen some of the responses of those who were outright bullied at school, and we have seen the strong role metal played in revising their biographies of victimhood into biographies of triumph and survival. But, in varying ways, others who weren’t bullied also used metal to create a self-insulating effect against potential social threats. For example, Alex had not been physically threatened at school like some of the other participants. As such, he had no pressing need to repel people – his feelings of vulnerability were tied to his doubts about his social status outside his peer group, should it fall apart down the track. However, he still assessed his public metal persona as socially successful because it meant he no longer had to ‘prove anything to anyone’: Yeah, I started all the typical metal stuff at school, I used to get the liquid paper on my diary and draw band logos, but the first thing’s always the band shirt, and then black jeans, black shoes, black was certainly the colour, and yeah, growing my hair out took forever, but as soon as I was metal I thought I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, sick! It was definitely better when I got into metal, cos I’ve never been the most confident person, I’ve always been quite nervous, and I think metal just gave me that extra confidence. I guess I was always an outsider, like at parties and stuff, but I definitely felt a lot more confident in metal shirts, definitely. Alex used the word ‘sick’ (meaning very good) to describe how pleased he was with his metal identity and the relief of bypassing any need or expectation to try to fit in (and potentially fail). He also described how he enjoyed shocking people at school; he would try to incorporate metal themes and imagery into his schoolwork to set himself apart from others. For Alex, the self-insulating effect of a chosen metal identity functioned as more of an insurance policy against potential future threats (or unchosen identity tags), and it also established some certainty about his identity to alleviate the uncertainty of where else he might fit in or belong once his peer group started to drift apart (Rowe, 2017b). The enjoyment gained from ‘shocking people’ that Alex mentioned was (in various ways) consistent across the entire sample. Whether it was the extremes of

64    Heavy Metal Youth Identities shocking non-metal people into thinking participants were capable of ‘burning the school down or shooting it up’, or subtler modes of shocking people with ideas, beliefs, visualisations or personal aesthetics, in one way or another, the metal youth all ‘got off’ on shocking people: I definitely wanted to be different, I wanted people to be shocked, I don’t know why, I just got off on it. Our group at school was definitely like the rejects, it really was, I don’t know how it happened but that’s what the popular kids used to say as well, they’d say there must be something wrong with you loners … (Jordan) I used to draw a lot of Cannibal Corpse’s art at school, I reckon they have the best artwork, with every album it’s like how much more brutal can we get? I enjoyed incorporating things I was interested in, but I liked shocking people too, that was so cool man … (Alex) I like to surprise people, you know my teachers kind of picked me as this quiet little girl, but if someone asked me what music I liked I’d say I’m into metal, and they say oh, what type, and I’d be oh, heavy, heavy metal and they be like ohhhh … (Deena) …you eventually get known as the guy who likes metal, but there was no grief, no picking on us, I mean, I think people got scared of us, like when we played Entombment of a Machine at a school concert, people were like what the hell? You should have seen their faces! [laughs] (Jon) I remember going to a music shop and I was in my school clothes, I asked for Deicide’s Once Upon the Cross on vinyl and his jaw dropped, I would’ve been 13 or 14, he didn’t expect that at all. There weren’t many people around that age who’d actually heard that stuff, it was quite interesting seeing his reaction, it was good … (Glen) In year ten I’d wear my Deicide shirt to school. I think with my school being more Christian, I guess a bit of it was just trying to start a fire, you know, freaking people out, a bit of that definitely … (Tim) Yeah, it definitely found its way into my school work. For a poetry assignment I compared poets like Frost with Symphony X lyrics, and in year 12 I did my major religion assignment about the links between Satanism and metal, I even got to interview Nunslaughter by email, it was so cool. The Christian Brothers were a bit freaked out, good! [laughs]. (Serge) The enjoyment participants gained from shocking non-metal people was clear, and the feedback they got affirmed that their chosen identity formations were

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    65 ‘working’; metal identities were setting them apart from the mainstream peer groups that they didn’t fit into – but on their own terms. By forming a public metal persona, those who were otherwise invisible, or visible for the ‘wrong’ reasons, could be seen as who they wanted to be known as. Tim had talked about shocking people by taking the Satanic Bible to his Christian school. Like Alex, he also drew on metal stereotypes to try to create a ‘scary’ image as more of an insurance policy to stave off potential threats and to send a strong message of alternate belonging. Tim was not overtly bullied, but he did not fit in particularly well at school either: I tried to make people aware that I listened to metal so people wouldn’t really pick on you that much, it was just kind of like saying “I’m into metal, fuck off ”. There’s that toughness element in metal, where people view it and think “Oh I’m not gonna fuck with that guy cos he listens to metal”, and that works in your favour at school, definitely. Tim also went on to talk about how he felt that he needed to ‘get on the front foot’ to make sure no one would pick on him, and he also said it was ‘up to him to figure it out’. Participants used terms like ‘find some way to deal with it’, ‘man up’, ‘take care of it’ and ‘deal with the shit yourself’ while constructing their own biographies of personal responsibility for managing marginal positioning and countering unchosen identities at school. I began to pose questions in Chapter 2 about the relationship between narratives of individualism in contemporary metal lyrics and the broader social dynamics of individualisation in a changing modernity. The narratives of coping with bullying, rejection and social vulnerability now paint a much clearer picture of participants taking personal responsibility for developing individualised solutions to individually experienced ‘problems’. The metal youth poignantly illuminate the widely held sociological view that the individual burden of choosing, trialling and revising identity solutions, and personal responsibility for either succeeding or failing at the task, has become an entrenched feature of modern living (Bauman, 2001; Beck & Beck-Gernsheim, 2001; Furlong & Cartmel, 2007; Giddens, 1991; Touraine, 2007). But, viewing these biographic solutions through a cultural lens of metal again begs some questions: Do metal youth feel obliged to take responsibility for their circumstances because of ideas they get from listening to metal lyrics? Or, do metal lyrics validate and reinforce the individualised solutions they are already undertaking in a changing modernity? And, how do collective identity formations reconcile with individualising forces? These questions will be revisited in Chapter 4 when we look at metal community membership, but here, the critical point is clear: that embodying chosen metal identities was able to serve as social protection against bullying and other negative events at school. Next, I discuss the social transformation processes and look more closely at the direct outcomes and benefits for the metal youth.

66    Heavy Metal Youth Identities

3.4 Positive Outcomes of Embodying Metal Identities The first idea I want to raise here is a reframing of youth resistance as resilience, because central to notions of resilience is an understanding of how well or prepared one feels to cope with life’s inevitable set-backs and challenges (Liebenberg & Ungar, 2009) – and the metal youth gave very strong indications that they felt much better prepared for ‘dealing with the shit’ at school after forming and embodying their metal identities. In support, Bottrell (2007) argues that chosen identity formations are very much indeed acts of resilience building because ‘dealing with everyday adversities and the struggle for chosen identity are evidence of marginalised young people’s positive adaptations and strengths’ (p. 602): In dealing with marginalisation, difficult circumstances and competing demands, young people’s resistances are attempts to counter negative images and to create new ‘centres’ for themselves. At school and in the community, their resistances in protecting reputation and chosen identity, in refusing to identify with images which denigrate oneself or one’s people, and in opposing the requirements of a mainstream participation which does not engage with or value marginal life experience, can all be understood as acts of resilience. These young people do not simply accept or comply with subordinate status assigned them on the margins (Bottrell, 2007, p. 611). The early embodiment of metal identities illuminates what Bottrell is describing here. An important point of difference that paints an even bigger picture is that Bottrell’s samples grew up together in a State housing project in a highpoverty context and were resisting and truanting together in response to their collective marginal positioning. But, my sample of metal youth were ‘outsiders’ in their own school contexts. Their unchosen identities were individually configured, and they formed their chosen metal identities as individualised solutions for ­rejecting the subordinate status assigned to them on the margins of their own school culture.

Metal as a Strategy for Political Transformation at the Level of the Individual Early metal identity formations served as transformative strategies that were able to be researched, devised and enacted alone – which wasn’t a small consideration for those without strong peer networks, and for those who reported not having any friends at all during critical periods of their high school year years. Used in this way, I suggest that the internal conversation one has about the ‘success’ of becoming metal is reminiscent of what Raby calls ‘a “survival” strategy for people who are in marginal, or minority social positions’ (2005, p. 165) [original emphasis]. In practical terms, Raby proposed that one of the ways marginalised individuals are able to cope with their social positioning is to:

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    67 […] take ‘damaged stereotypes’ and make them ‘powerful and seductive sites of self-creation’, like Butler’s observation that hate names such as ‘queer’ can be redeployed. Thus, we can consider disidentification as a taking of dominant signs, roles, discourses, or interpellations and then redeploying them in new ways that disrupt the dominant message, creating something previously unthinkable. (Raby, 2005, p. 165) [original emphasis]. It was clear that the metal youth I spoke to absolutely felt that they had reconstructed the ‘damaged stereotypes’ assigned to them by more popular peers (or at least imagined) into ‘chosen’ identities that were capable of disrupting the dominant norms at school. The ‘shy’ became the ‘shocking’, the ‘quiet’ became the ‘dangerous’, the ‘small’ became the ‘powerful’, the ‘fat’ became the ‘frightening’ and the ‘weird’ became the ‘mysterious’ or ‘unique’. But, despite the uniqueness of each participant’s personal experience, the universal theme was that of reframing ‘outsider’ status from something once negatively associated with exclusion and rejection to something positively associated with inclusion and acceptance by the metal community. Indeed, being an ‘outsider’ tends to be wholeheartedly celebrated in metal circles (Rowe, 2016). The metal subculture is a particularly prime example that ‘chosen’ identity work can be a highly empowering means of countering oppressive and disempowering ‘unchosen’ identities – or more simply, reframing the idea of being an outsider from a bad thing to a good thing, and elevating self-worth and purpose in the process. So, on one hand, identification with metal signalled alternate (and ‘chosen’) options for acceptance and belonging; whereas, disidentification with dominant school norms signalled a refusal to comply with a subordinate position or ‘unchosen’ marginal identities – both of which had positive impacts on participants’ mental health and wellbeing that were underscored by a sense of reclaiming power. Jake captured the strong role that metal played in driving and supporting personal agency when he remarked that ‘metal gives people hope, it gives you power when you’re powerless’. This is important information here because Sercombe and Donnelly (2012) emphasise that the balance of power in relationships at school initially swings when peers attempt to dominate others, who then become compliant in the bullying relationship by performing the subordinate role. Taken to the next level, the intention of bullying and deliberate humiliation is ‘a radical domination involving the attempted extinguishment of agency’ (p. 9): For this reason […] the young person needs to be involved in the development of strategies, to consent to interventions wherever possible, to express their wishes. They need to be listened to and taken seriously, and to have a controlling interest in the enterprise. There is a job to do of rebuilding their sense of agency, and that cannot be done by taking over, by telling them what they need to do or by issuing instructions. The aim of interventions must be to restore agency, to replace that which was taken away. Adults must

68    Heavy Metal Youth Identities therefore base interventions on responding in a way that gives back agency, that helps children and young people regain a sense of control over who they are and what they do. (Sercombe & Donnelly, 2012, p. 8) The intervention plan the authors describe is uncannily reminiscent of what the metal youth I interviewed had figured out for themselves. And as Sercombe and Donnelly (2012) also suggested would be the case – participants who were outright bullied reported that the bullying ‘got worse’ after they told an adult about it. They added that adults either intervened on their behalf and spoke to the bullies or told them what to do about it (offering advice such as ‘don’t let it bother you’ or ‘go and find a teacher’). Choosing and forming a metal identity for one’s self, however, clearly gave the young people a sense of ‘regaining control over who they are and what they do’ – and as we have seen, this could also be applied to protecting one’s self from potential threats if one felt vulnerable that rejection or exclusion could occur in the future (Rowe, 2017b). Whether participants were overtly bullied or simply knew they ‘didn’t measure up’ to social norms, they all made statements such as ‘metal saved my life’, ‘you get instant respect’, ‘metal gives you power when you’re powerless’, ‘metal was always there for me’, ‘metal was the only thing I had’ and ‘metal was the only thing that got me through school’. The positive outcomes were felt as a clear redistribution of power and justice showing the politically transformative properties of metal identity formations. But, the metal youth tended to report more on the micro-level outcomes of gaining confidence and respect, and they also heralded the reliability and security of metal at a time when most other things were uncertain or precarious.

Is it Personal or Political? What Have We Learned? I return now to the questions I posed earlier about whether or not metal youth might construct ‘becoming metal’ as a transformative political strategy (or a struggle for social recognition as Honneth put it), or whether they might view it more as a personal project of the self, possibly one of escape or evasion. As it turns out, viewing youth resistances through a lens of contemporary metal culture shows us that the personal and the political are tightly bound (as they always have been), but are complicated in new ways by individualising factors and forces. Rejecting the subordinate status of unchosen marginal identities by embodying a chosen metal identity was a clear political disruption to power relations and dominant school norms, and yes, there was evidence that some viewed this is a collective political struggle: …kinda like how metal works, you bond over a struggle or a common emotion. (Luke) …but you get to metal and you see other people going through shit and you know it’s not just like my cause. (Jake)

‘It’s True, Metal Gives You Power when You’re Powerless’    69 But when Jake said ‘you see other people going through shit’, he was talking about expressions of injustice in metal lyrics – he had heard about struggles in metal songs, not directly from other metalheads in conversation, and he had aligned himself with the metal artists performing the songs. Luke also didn’t know any other metalheads and had not had these conversations with others, he also got this sense of solidarity through struggle directly from metal songs. While participants narrated an overall belief that metal serves a collective cause, their individual metal identity formations and their individual social actions present some conceptual ‘problems’ that Haenfler, Johnson, and Jones (2012) have also picked up on: […] scholars tend to conceptualize movements as externally focussed, collective ‘political’ action, while often viewing lifestyles as self-centered, largely individualistic projects of personal expression and affirmation, thus marking movements as serious contenders for social change and lifestyles as trivial in comparison. This divide has created a scholarly blind spot concealing the intersections of private action and movement participation, personal change and social change, and personal identity and collective identity. (Haenfler et al., 2012, pp. 1–2) What young metalheads can teach us about political transformation at the level of the individual is compelling because the youth phase is like a weathervane for social change. If new cultural or social trends emerge, it is likely they will be seen first (or most obviously) among the new generation of young adults (Shildrick, Blackman, & MacDonald, 2009). In this chapter, and directly from the mouths of metal youth, we have seen some complications that metal poses for pre-existing ideas about subculture or social movements as collective political resistance, and for attempts to neatly categorise lifestyles as something quite different, or even apolitical. Next, in Chapter 4, we will also see some ‘complications’ for how we conceptualise notions of ‘community’ by examining ways that the metal youth constructed and engaged with metal community membership against the backdrop of individualising forces.

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Chapter 4

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’: Narrative Constructions of Acceptance and Belonging In this chapter, I unpack the ways in which metal youth constructed ideas about metal community life, and the varying degrees of importance this held for them and why. This will feature ideas about ‘imagined community’ and ways that young people can feel deeply connected to the global metal community long before they might ever meet another metalhead in person. Interesting patterns in the digital consumption of metal media are revealed, and a category I call ‘bedroom metallers’ also emerges. I argue that the accessibility of ‘global’ metal is not equal for all, and that ‘class and place’ can have a tremendous effect on the types of metal (and therefore the metal identity options) that young people can ‘choose’ from. Further, I will discuss how some of the more socio-economically advantaged metal youth narratively constructed the constrained ‘choices’ of their poorer counterparts as being inauthentic raising questions around metal community affiliations manifesting as new ways of ‘doing class’ inside the metal subculture. Portions of 4.1 and 4.2 were first published in Rowe (2016). An earlier version of Section 4.3 was first published in Rowe (2017a).

4.1 What is Metal Community? And Why is it so Important? In Chapter 3, we saw the significance of embodying a metal identity for social protection or keeping the ‘wrong’ people out. In this chapter, we look at the flip side of that: embodying a metal identity to signal community membership or inviting the ‘right’ people in. Indeed, performing a metal identity wasn’t just about repelling non-metal people. Contrarily, it was also crucial for countering rejection by signalling alternate belonging to the metal community. And crucially, this binary of exclusion and alternate inclusion was a central factor in reframing outsider status from a negative tag to a positive (and even desirable) one.

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 71–96 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181004

72    Heavy Metal Youth Identities According to Søndergaard (2012), power differentials and bullying relationships between peers at school provoke a type of social exclusion anxiety that motivates a deep need for belonging to mediate the pain of exclusion: Emotions relevant to exclusion are related to meaninglessness and, to the feeling of being misunderstood, not seen, socially threatened and deprived of dignity. The emotions associated with inclusion are related to feelings of acceptance, being noticed and acknowledged, and consequently of experiencing dignity and a feeling of worthiness. (Søndergaard, 2012, p. 360) Chapter 3 started to show ways that becoming metal was able to initiate the sort of turnaround that Søndergaard describes in terms of increasing confidence and reclaiming dignity with a chosen identity. Next, I examine the importance of metal community for providing the metal youth with a visible and reliable anchor point for achieving alternate inclusion and belonging. The word ‘community’ itself conjures specific ideas about what community is. For many, it imbues a sense of like-minded people coming together (communities of practice or interest), or ‘thrown’ together in proximity of one another (geographic communities or neighbourhoods). Given that my participants made such a big deal about ‘the metal community’, it was important to look closely at their narrative constructions of what the metal community meant and ­represented to them. Discussions about the significance of metal communities and metal community life often surface in metal media, metal studies and among metalheads themselves. However, these are typically the opinions of well-established metalheads. Next, we will see ways in which metal youth constructed and engaged with ideas of metal community during early metal identity formations.

Case Study – Joey Joey was 18–years old when we first met and had been ‘couch-surfing’ for 18 months (meaning he was out of the family home and had no fixed address). He’d lost touch with his father who was living a transient lifestyle and it wasn’t possible for Joey to live with his mother, whom he described as ‘making bad choice after bad choice’ in terms of her romantic partners. Throughout his young life, Joey had tried to protect his mother on numerous occasions when family violence erupted until he was finally ‘kicked out by her latest boyfriend’ for the last time at age 16. As a result of moving around so much, and moving back and forth between parents, Joey estimated that he had been enrolled in 13 different schools over 11 years of schooling in various locations across the state, and found it extremely difficult to make friends ‘coming in as the new kid all the time’ (Rowe, 2016). His difficulty in making friends was complicated by the fact that Joey was a young Aboriginal man. He felt an expectation to befriend Aboriginal students, but he didn’t feel comfortable in doing so because he said there was a trend for Aboriginal youth to emulate ‘black gangstas’ and

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    73 listen to ‘R’n’B bullshit’, and he wanted no part of it. (In Chapter 2, we saw Joey’s low opinion of R’n’B artists as immoral and lacking intellect.) When I asked Joey what music he was listening to back then, he smiled at the memory of how important System of a Down’s music was to him at age 12 because he finally discovered ‘important lyrics and meaning’ and added that ‘the music was insanely good’. At age 13, he bought a Slipknot album that ‘blew him away’ and, at the time of the interviews, he still rated the Slipknot concert he went to as a 15-year-old as one of the best experiences of his life: I always get goose bumps when I think about that concert, it was definitely the best concert I’ve ever seen. There’s nothing better than metal concerts when you’re in the mosh pit, like you’ve got the few at the front who are just headbanging, then you’ve got the death pit in the middle, or circle, where everyone just runs around and goes crazy in there, but everyone looks after each other. That’s what metalheads do, if you’re at a metal concert and someone gets knocked down, everyone who’s closest to them instantly tries to help them get up. I remember at the Slipknot concert there was a girl in a wheelchair and there were easily ten people who didn’t even know her just making a barricade around her so she could be at the front to see Slipknot. Yeah, it’s definitely like family, as soon as you’re at a concert. I guess some people think kids are just gonna get hurt and stuff, you might get crushed a bit just from how many people are there, but other than that if you fall down you’re gonna get helped straight back up for sure … From his concert experience, Joey had narratively constructed a sense of family, acceptance, being cared for and inclusion – not only for himself, but also for the ‘girl in the wheelchair’ which further validated his own sense of community. Joey didn’t personally know any other metalheads (at that time); his only faceto-face metal experience was at the Slipknot concert where he conflated the idea of being in a mosh pit with being in a community. He was not alone in thinking this way either; other participants also described how safe it was in a pit because ‘everyone looks after each other’ and ‘community is about looking after each other’ (Rowe, 2016). The metal youth consistently told me about feelings of acceptance and belonging that they got from the idea of metal community, and a key way that acceptance and belonging manifested for these young people was through a deep sense of caring for one another – even without actually knowing any other metalheads. For some, their first real experience of feeling ‘cared’ for by peers occurred in metal mosh pits; either witnessed first-hand, or viewed on the Internet (which I will discuss later). For Joey, the experience of being in a metal mosh pit with everyone ‘caring for one another’ stood in stark contrast to his experiences of being humiliated and degraded by popular students in the school yard (Rowe, 2016).

74    Heavy Metal Youth Identities What did Others Have to Say? Luke hadn’t been to a concert like Joey had during high school years; he also didn’t personally know any other metalheads, but he was very clear about the importance of metal community life, the closeness of metalheads and their commitment to taking care of one another: The metal community, we band together, like fuck what everyone else thinks, we know what we think, that sense of tight-knit community is just great, we’re in this together and we take care of our own … Luke’s ideas about ‘taking care of our own’ hinged on an imagined sense of community characterised by notions of ‘us against them’ that could be signalled with a metal aesthetic. This line of thinking (or imagination) was most prominent among those who’d been bullied, or felt the most humiliated by popular peers at school – essentially, those with the greatest need for alternate belonging and purpose. Understandably, the idea of metal community as a surrogate for ‘family’ was also prominent for those with weak family ties; however, interestingly, it was also strong for those with positive family relationships. ‘Looking after each other’ and ‘being family’ were valued perceptions of metal community life overall, as Alex captures as follows: I think a lot of the other genres are kind of like, yeah, we listen to this, where I think with metal there is a family associated with that. I think Dio said that once you’re into metal you’re in the family, yeah, in the group … Alex described how sharing interests and beliefs with like-minded others is the essence of metal community life, but he also told me that ‘metal brings something extra to what community means’ because metalheads are visible to each other ‘all over the world’. He elaborated by telling me that some people might really like gardening, and they might be in a community of gardeners, but they would have a hard time recognising each other on the street if they didn’t already know each other. Alex saw the metal shirt as critical for signalling a metal identity (as well as ‘growing hair out’). He previously described how wearing metal shirts relieved the burden of needing to ‘prove anything’ to non-metal peers at school and improved his confidence, but he also talked about how the metal shirt was essential for proving he had ‘joined up’ with like-minded others, in spirit at least, long before he became active in the local metal community (Rowe, 2016). Jake also heralded the metal shirt as being vitally important for experiencing communion with others: If I see someone with a Slayer shirt on I’m like “That dude looks chilled, I wouldn’t mind hanging out with that dude”. But yeah, metal’s a great community and it’s really diverse, it’s so individual

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    75 but so universal, it kind of contradicts itself, in a good way. For me personally, community is a variety of different things, but it’s more about a feeling. If you’re on the bus and you see a dude with a Cannibal Corpse shirt on, you kind of know them without even knowing them, you just understand where they’re coming from … I question whether Jake could actually know for sure ‘where they’re coming from’; perhaps, a stranger’s choice of metal shirt could really only tell Jake what music the person wearing the shirt likes (if it’s even their shirt, and not a house mate’s). However, facts did not get in the way of symbolic significance here; facts (or lack thereof) had no impact on the sense of solidarity and inclusion that they took comfort in. In short, there was no need to over think it, just feel it and enjoy it. Jake was bullied and had no friends to turn to at school; he didn’t have any metal friends outside of school either and was quite socially isolated. However, he was still able to garner a sense of acceptance and inclusion simply through imagining being in proximity to someone else wearing a metal shirt. From the mouths of teens, we get tremendous insight here into the blurring of lines between community and identity, and we see how open this is to individual interpretation (Rowe, 2016). The very idea of belonging to the metal community and having one’s identity validated rather than humiliated was a significant biographic turnaround for those who didn’t fit in at school. And crucially, embodying a metal identity signalled an alternate social acceptance that could be read on the body and known by others – a critical step in correcting the wrongs of having been socially rejected by ‘Others’. Next, we’ll look at how they went about ‘joining’ the metal community, well before they personally knew any other metalheads.

4.2 Achieving Metal Community Membership Despite repeated claims of how important it was to feel part of the metal community during high school years, it was an imagined sense of belonging that participants were actually reconstructing for me during the interviews – none of them had their sense of belonging affirmed by direct involvement with metal community life while they were still at school. Essentially, the metal community membership they were imagining was being underscored by notions of collective identity; understood here as: […] an individual’s cognitive, moral and emotional connection with a broader community, category, practice or institution. It is a perception of shared status and relation, which may be imagined rather than experienced directly, and it is distinct from personal identities, although it may form part of a personal identity. (Polletta & Jasper, 2001, p. 285) It is interesting that Polletta and Jasper’s definition emphasises that collective identity ‘may be imagined rather than experienced directly’. The authors further

76    Heavy Metal Youth Identities argue that collective identity work can increasingly be carried out alone (p. 285). This resonates strongly with the individualisation of youth biographies more broadly. However, it was particularly clear in ways that the metal youth formed their early metal identities and community memberships alone.

Metal Community Membership: Establishing Proof of Eligibility Danielle felt an attachment to the metal community from an early age – she said ‘I kind of felt part of the metal community before I even knew anyone’. When telling me this, Danielle was referring to ‘knowing’ that like-minded others were out there ‘going through the same stuff’, and she ‘knew’ this by watching metal concerts, videos and interviews online while home alone in her bedroom. From a feminist vantage point, Hill (2014) has critically reflected on the gendering of public metal activities (like concert going) as the dominant and ideal representation of metal fandom; she further argues that this diminishes the experience of female fandom that might be lived out in private spaces through the channels of imaginary community. Danielle’s narrative certainly highlights the tremendous importance of engaging with metal at home in private spaces, but I found this was true for the boys as well (during high school years) which told me that imaginary community participation was primarily necessitated by age for this cohort, rather than gender. All participants were consuming metal via the Internet and other forms of metal media during high school years. A real stand out was the 2005 documentary Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey that came up a lot in conversation. Most of them had seen it numerous times and many felt validated by Rob Zombie’s description of metal concerts as a coming together of all the ‘weird kids’ (which I raised in Chapter 2). Zombie had signalled that it was okay (and even desirable) to be the ‘weird kid’. Importantly, he imparted the idea that ‘you’re not alone, we’re all here waiting for you’. There were certain live performances viewable online that were also significant for reinforcing connectedness and belonging: YouTube clips of Dez Fafara (vocalist, Devil Driver) initiating circle pits1 and Randy Blythe (vocalist, Lamb of God) instructing walls of death2 were often referred to as prime examples of ‘metal community’ in action. Unpacking these two examples further, participants were also constructing the importance of strong community leadership from Fafara and Blythe when the vocalists were marshalling these moshing practices, and the willingness of those in the pit to carry out their orders was constructed as evidence of strong community allegiance.3 1

A ‘circle pit’ is a moshing practice in which participants run in a circular motion creating a whirlpool effect, usually conducted in the middle of the crowd area behind the front rows of headbangers at concerts. 2 A ‘wall of death’ is a moshing practice at concerts whereby participants are directed to line up in two rows at either side of the stage and then instructed to run straight at each other in a style akin to foot soldiers on a battlefield. 3 Fafara and Blythe are renowned for instigating and choreographing extreme mosh pit participation by young people. Participants made repeated references to watching media clips of both bands and described what it was like to be in circle pits and walls of death, most without having actually participated in person.

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    77 Overall, it was clear that the metal youth were taking their cues (and eligibility for community membership) directly from metal artists that they looked up to and admired. Alex had taken Ronnie James Dio’s comments about being in the metal ‘family’ to heart; Robb Flynn’s comments during interviews had a particularly strong influence on Luke’s sense of belonging; and Rob Zombie had a significant impact on many because his comments clearly celebrated a community of ‘weird kids’. In addition, most importantly, all of these ‘green lights’ for ­community membership were available online. The fact that participants were able to construct a sense of metal community through watching metal media is unsurprising given that symbolic expressions of subcultural identity (and the associated practices) are more accessible than ever before (Weinstein, 2011). Prior to the digital technology boon, people had to attend distinct scene spaces to acquire the knowledge, symbols and practices requisite for forming subcultural identities – whereas, the tools and knowledge to build subcultural identities are available these days with a ‘click of the mouse’ (Gardner, 2010, p. 73). Those of us ‘growing up metal’ in the 1980s will recall the ‘metal parking lot’ gatherings outside of concerts where we’d all come together in our first real sense of community, often parading the bootleg T-shirts, ‘zines and cassettes we might have been lucky to get hold of. (For a glimpse of life before the Internet, young metal readers might like to watch Krulik and Heyn’s 1986 documentary Heavy Metal Parking Lot, but if you do, please overlook the big hair and stonewashed denim. You’ll have your own styles to look back on and regret in years to come!) Thirty years on, metal youth are now more likely to be forming and signalling their collective metal identities at home, on the Internet, and by purchasing metal music and apparel at retail stores (Rowe, 2016). Brown (2010) suggests that the minimum requirement for participating in contemporary metal youth culture is ‘the purchase of commodities and an understanding of their symbolic significance and uses’ (p. 106); and he argues that metal media can provide this understanding by ‘offering “clues” as to how to “live” metal as a youth identity’ (p. 105). In sum, the increased accessibility of globalised metal and its cultural commodities through the Internet now means that one can forge a metal identity without ever having to leave one’s home, whether by choice or circumstance. Young people can watch, consume, and engage with metal from their bedrooms if need be, or if they choose (Rowe, 2016).

Metal Community Life: Bedroom Metallers McRobbie and Garber (1976) first raised the idea of youth bedroom culture when writing about the tendency for scholars to overlook girls in studies of subculture. The authors argued that girls might be less visible to subcultural researchers because parents were more protective of daughters compared to sons, meaning that boys had more social freedom to explore the world and, therefore, had more identity resources available to them (including subculture). McRobbie and Garber (1976) proposed that girls might have to manage the social restrictions on their identity work by decorating their bedroom spaces and participating in a teenybopper culture that could be accommodated into their leisure time at home.

78    Heavy Metal Youth Identities More recently, Lincoln’s (2012) investigation of the private spaces in young people’s lives shows that bedrooms have grown in significance for boys as well as girls, and that bedrooms can function as important sites of identity formation – spaces where young people can use media sources for sorting through, and making sense of all the identity options and choices. I must emphasise though that having a bedroom at all, let alone of one’s own, is not a privilege that all young people have access to. However, for those who do, bedrooms can be vitally important identity spaces where young people can work out who they are and what they like in their private time. According to Lincoln (2012), increasing access to online participation means that young people can now be together with others, even while alone in their rooms, because the age of digital media has given rise to bedrooms as ‘integral, interconnected hubs of communication’ and personal identity spaces ‘marked out as such through the objects, items and things collected within it’ (Lincoln, 2012, p. 8). What became highly interesting to me was that constructions of metal community could also be marked out in the private space of bedrooms – and this was not dependent on active two-way communication with others; rather, this was achievable via the research and consumption of metal media, self-assigning community membership and marking out one’s bedroom as a micro-community space (Rowe, 2016). In the time I knew Jake, I spent a total of roughly 6 hours in his bedroom talking to him. Each time I visited his home, he led me straight to his bedroom which, upon entering, told me (as a seasoned metalhead) exactly ‘who he was’ (as a metalhead) and which metal communities he aligned with by the choice of posters that adorned the walls. Jake had completed high school just a few weeks before our first interview, so I was privileged to get a feel for the space that had been so tremendously important to him during his high school years (remembering that he was bullied and had a rough time at school). During our visits, he would sit on a chair next to his amp, or at his computer, and I would sit cross-legged on his bed (the only other place to sit) as we switched back and forth between general metal conversations and then more research-oriented conversations. He would self-initiate regular breaks in between all the hours of talk by playing guitar for me; he would play songs he had written himself, switch guitars, play some more and, for fun, he would play riffs by ‘old-school’ death metal guitarists and have me try and guess the songs and sing along. We’d fall about the place laughing and doing our best impersonations of death metal artists, but we also had more ‘serious’ moments of trouble-shooting equipment problems in his bedroom. Jake was an extremely talented metal guitarist, but he had never played guitar outside of that room and had never played for another metalhead – yet, he spoke of having such a strong connection to metal community and had no doubts about his purpose and worth as a member of the community. Earlier, I questioned Jake’s comments about ‘just knowing where other metalheads are coming from’ because of the metal shirt they might be wearing; however, I cannot deny that Jake and I formed a rather instant (and enjoyable) connection by virtue of our shared metal identity. There was a 30-year age difference (and considerable life experience

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    79 difference) between us; but sitting there together in his bedroom, I absolutely felt that we belonged to the same community (Rowe, 2016). Over time, I came to think of Jake and others in similar circumstances as ‘bedroom metallers’. They had created their own metal microcosms complete with guitars, drums and recording equipment, and had decorated these spaces with subgenre specific posters, banners and other bits and pieces. Another example of this was in Tim’s bedroom. He called it his studio and showed me through because he wanted me to see his armour, weaponry, candelabra and black fabric draping from the ceiling. The walls were covered in posters of black metal imagery that he had made himself; not ‘regulation’ posters of bands (although he did have some), but more ‘artistic’ looking prints of bloodstained ice-covered plains and candle-lit Norwegian forests. Resting on his computer desk were the black metal gauntlets4 that his mother had made for him to wear while practising guitar in his room. He also had a drum machine and told me all about the recording plans for his band, which consisted of only him. When we stepped outside in the daylight, I noticed a faint white film around his hairline. I asked him if he’d been wearing corpse paint5 and he said yes, he often did at home, and even considered leaving it on for my arrival (which I wished he had). He told me he stayed in his room while wearing it though, not because he was embarrassed for others to see it, but just because ‘it felt right’ in that space. Tim did not have other black metal friends, and there wasn’t really a local scene to participate in, certainly not a ‘live’ black metal scene (local black metal bands tend not to play live, preferring to trade their music and limit its accessibility to underground networks). We got on well enough personality-wise, but I couldn’t build the same cultural rapport with Tim as I did with Jake simply because I’m not a black metaller (which shows the nuances of collective metal identity by subgenre playing out). I have a healthy respect and reasonable knowledge of most metal subgenres, so I can hold an ‘entry-level’ black metal conversation, which I did with Tim. However, I preferred to ask him questions so he could teach me more about the black metal factions, tensions, ideologies and practices that he was so familiar with. Tim’s physical black metal world didn’t exist outside his bedroom and he wasn’t sharing it with anyone else, much like Jake (and the other bedroom metallers I visited). However, even though they weren’t engaging directly with other metal youth, this had no obvious impact on how much they knew about their respective metal affiliations, or the extent to which they could ‘authentically’ embody a metal identity as a result. They ‘knew their stuff’ in terms of metal’s various histories, cultures and styles – knowledge that had been available to them largely via Internet searches as Stevo described:

4

For non-metal readers: Black metal gauntlets are reminiscent of battle armour. They are forearm coverings typically constructed from black leather and are often adorned with spikes. 5 Corpse paint is a style of make-up worn on the face, largely within black metal culture. White theatrical grease paint is a common medium used to depict a corpse-like appearance with distinct black markings added, generally around the eyes and lips.

80    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I started looking for heavier stuff online and that’s when I started really properly being metal so I would’ve been thirteen or fourteen years old. When I was researching metal to find out more about it I read it was good to have long hair so you can headbang so I started growing it then, yeah, pretty much almost from the start I guess you’d say I looked metal. I sort of had the impression that no one really listened to this thing, like it was something I did on my own, I wasn’t really looking for other metalheads but at the same time I felt really connected to it, I don’t know, it was weird, just like I belonged to it… Initially, I thought that participants might have been engaging in online metal communities in lieu of face-to-face communities during high school years. However, it surprised me that this wasn’t the case. Engagement with online communities did occur post-school for some as they became more actively involved in metal community life in general; however, online engagement (during high school years) was more confined to researching metal facts and music and buying metal ‘stuff’. Or, as Brown (2010) had said, they were looking for clues online about how to ‘live’ metal, and were recreating this at home in their bedrooms. Learning the ropes of becoming metal was a fun and enjoyable thing to do at home, and we’ve seen the positive outcomes of this for confidence, self-worth, alternate acceptance and inclusion, and social protection from non-metal people viewed as threats to wellbeing (like bullies and popular peers). However, in Section 4.3, we will see that there were some implications, and limitations, for the types of metal identities that the young people could form depending on the levels of resourcing, and resourcefulness, that they were able to invest in the task.

4.3 Membership Rights: And Justice for All? According to Shildrick, Blackman, and MacDonald (2009), ‘a lack of resources in itself does not prevent active and reflexive choice and decision making, but it surely serves to limit the options for such, in some cases severely’ (p. 458). So, what could this mean for metal youth trying to occupy similar spaces within the metal subculture, but starting out with different levels of resources to one another? More than 20 years ago, Thornton (1995) pointed to a lack of empirical inquiry into ways that youth cultures are stratified within themselves (my emphasis) and ‘the manner in which young people seek out and accumulate cultural goods and experiences for strategic use within their own social worlds’ (p. 8). We still don’t have answers to these questions from a metal perspective. Therefore, I examined ways that my participants ‘chose’ and navigated sites of metal identity formations to better understand how resources might shape the directions that early metal pathways take – and crucially, how different levels of resourcing might manifest inside the metal subculture among metal youth in an era of unprecedented access to globalised metal. In short, I was interested to see how global metal identities were playing out in different local (and economic) contexts.

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    81 Across the entire sample, it was absolutely clear how much they all loved listening to metal, and how much they all enjoyed embodying their metal identities; but opinions diverged quite sharply when I started asking them about which metal subgenres they liked. (In Chapter 1, I talked about the proliferation of contemporary metal subgenres so that non-metal readers could get a sense that the range of metal identity options has expanded significantly since the days of a more stockstandard one-size-fits-all metal identity.) I anticipated there would be a fair degree of ‘talking up’ one’s own preferred subgenre, and with this, perhaps running others down. I also expected an air of elitism from the black metallers which has been well documented by other authors (Hagen, 2011; Kahn-Harris, 2004; Spracklen, 2015). What I didn’t expect to find was subgenre affiliations carrying some nuanced classed distinctions, and that ways of ‘doing class’ were masked by the metal youth as constructions of choice and authenticity. It was evident that location and resourcing had a tremendous impact on ways of consuming metal and participating in the metal subculture and, accordingly, ways in which participants formed (and performed) their early metal identities.

(Un)Defining Class When questions of class arose, I had to think deeply about how to address them. ‘Class’ was not a conceptual feature of my initial research design so I hadn’t been thinking about ways to define and operationalise it prior to data collection. When these ideas came up (because of concrete things the metal youth told me), I went back to the literature to see how other authors were approaching this and look for some ideas to help me frame a classed analysis of early metal identity formations. I read some interesting articles and models, but I struggled to find any useful frame that I could apply directly to my participants. I was having trouble contemplating purely economic or occupational classifications because, on one hand, participant narratives did show patterns of neighbourhood-level indicators of relative socio-economic status (SES) which we know can shape social norms and expectations (or the ‘way we do things’) at the community-level (Kintrea, St Clair, & Houston, 2015). However, the long conversations I had with participants revealed complex webs of social and cultural capitals that they (and their families) were able to invest in attempts to mediate relative disadvantage or further augment relative advantage (depending on their circumstances). Participants described their lives, circumstances, relationships, attitudes and reflexive decision making in such detail that made it impossible to make distinct classifications based solely on economic or occupational profiling6 (Rowe, 2017a). What I ultimately came up with was a rough grouping of participants into three categories of lower socio-economic status (L-SES), middle socio-economic 6

See Brown (2016) for a pertinent debate of the classificatory and conceptual ‘problems’ for defining and operationalising classed constructs in studies of metal fandom.

82    Heavy Metal Youth Identities status (M-SES) and higher socio-economic status (H-SES). To make these allocations, I drew (in part) on the Socio-economic Indexes for Areas (SEIFA). SEIFA is a community-profiling tool used in Australia to assist policy development and resource allocation. For the purpose of SEIFA, the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) broadly defines relative socio-economic advantage and disadvantage in terms of people’s access to material and social resources, and their ability to participate in society based on measures of family income, occupation types, housing tenure and costs, education levels and qualifications, long-term unemployment and English language skills (ABS, 2013). However, while SEIFA datasets can be quite useful, they cannot paint a complete picture of social circumstances; so, I also made the groupings by drawing on participants’ complex narrative constructions of familial habitus which allowed for a more unique combination of neighbourhood and family profiling to emerge for each participant (Rowe, 2017a). I reiterate that the groupings (and their SES titles) are not perfect because of the complex dynamics for each participant at the interface of social structures, familial mobility (social, residential and occupational), family capitals and neighbourhood characteristics. However, setting these (and other) complications aside, I elected to name each group by relative SES because, as problematic as the classifications might be, I somehow need to signal these distinctions for the reader to contextualise the significance of what participants told me, and locate this within my qualitative understanding of their circumstances. And to be perfectly honest, I felt more comfortable in allocating groups by relative SES rather than by any sort of ‘fixed’ classed boundary (Rowe, 2017a).

Summary Profile of Sample Grouped by SES Next, for each grouping I briefly outline three things: a SEIFA snapshot of where participants lived (to paint a picture of community-level factors); a summary of their subgenre preferences (showing patterns of affiliations according to group) and an overview of the recruiting methods that brought them to the research (showing trends in sites of metal consumption for each group).

Lower SES There were 11 participants allocated to the L-SES grouping (three females and eight males) who all grew up in Adelaide’s Northern suburbs. The region is characterised by the State’s highest youth un(der)employment rates, highest rates of youth disengagement, and highest levels of welfare dependency and intergenerational disadvantage. Consistently ranked number one on the SEIFA index for relative disadvantage across Greater Adelaide, the Northern suburbs typify poverty concentrations in post-industrial (or ‘rustbelt’) urban peripheries. Life in ‘the north’ has been increasingly fraught for many families and individuals over the last 30 years of steady de-industrialisation. More recently, this has been compounded by waves of migrant and refugee re-settlement in the region. The population is increasing, but the labour market is fractured and uncertain to say the least. Regional housing, health and employment services are struggling to

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    83 adequately address the needs of families and individuals living below the poverty line. While these circumstances do not represent all families in the north, they do paint a picture for the reader of the broader social realities in the region. Pathways into metal for this group all stemmed from nu metal or ‘core’ bands such as Slipknot, Trivium, Chimaira, Korn and Linkin Park. Within five years of forming a metal identity, most of this group had stayed closely aligned with their original preferences but had expanded to include more recent deathcore/metalcore bands such as Job for a Cowboy and Bring Me the Horizon. One L-SES participant, however, claimed a black metal identity based on his preferences for Dimmu Borgir and Cradle of Filth. His narrative will feature prominently in this section as a contrast to the narrative constructions of black metaldom given by participants that are more affluent. In terms of their recruitment into the research, five of this group came through the two main T-shirt shops located in shopping malls; two via the major retail music chain in the shopping malls (JB HiFi); two via a Northern suburbs musical instrument shop and two via the suggestion of friends who had been to the T-shirt shop and picked up flyers. The recruiting methods for this group showed a clear pattern of commercialised consumption and engagement with retail chain stores located in and around public transport hubs in the Northern suburbs (Rowe, 2017a).

Middle SES Nine participants (one female and eight males) allocated to the M-SES grouping had grown up in ‘average’-income areas around Adelaide’s metropolitan area. Although M-SES participants lived in various locations, their neighbourhoods all ranked evenly on the SEIFA indexes as being neither strongly advantaged, nor disadvantaged. Pathways into metal for this group were also largely nu metal and ‘core’ bands. They also included grunge bands as a pre-cursor to developing ‘heavier’ tastes (most notably Alice in Chains and Nirvana). Within five years of forming metal preferences, most of this group had moved on to align with more ‘traditional’ subgenres such as death, thrash and progressive metal. Respondents from this group tended to talk about ‘The Big Four’ a lot (collectively referring to Anthrax, Slayer, Metallica and Megadeth), and had spent considerable time familiarising themselves with the histories and back-catalogues of their preferred metal ­subgenres and they talked a lot about metal’s elders. Four of this group were recruited through JB HiFi; two came via an online metal forum; one came through a metal T-shirt shop; one came through a musical instrument store and one came through picking up a flyer at a gig in the city (Rowe, 2017a).

Higher SES The H-SES group consisted of eight participants (one female and seven males) who had mostly grown up in the Eastern/Hills suburbs of Adelaide (one participant lived in a more average income area but was raised in a family with high-level

84    Heavy Metal Youth Identities cultural capital, highlighting some of the complexities I talked about earlier). In stark contrast to the Northern suburbs, the Eastern/Hills suburbs consistently rank in the top percentile of the SEIFA index of relative advantage across Greater Adelaide (ABS, 2013). Pathways into metal for this group tended to come via hardcore, punk and cross-over bands, and more industrial types of metal such as Rammstein and, arguably, Nine in Nails. Four of this group identified as black metallers, three described a composite identification with doom and black metal and one aligned with a combined preference for black metal and goregrind. The pathways via hardcore were interesting because respondents talked about the cultural similarities between hardcore and black metal in terms of underground status and a doit-yourself work ethic of scene maintenance undertaken by scene members within a global infrastructure. This seemed to be a case of constructing ‘authenticity’ right back to early hardcore preferences. If there were any nu metal type records once owned by anyone in this group, they were not admitting it to me (Rowe, 2017a). Three of this group picked up recruiting flyers at underground extreme metal gigs; two heard about the research on a late-night community radio extreme metal show; two came via the black metal thread on an online metal forum and only one came through a retail outlet (JB HiFi). Three participants told me that they picked up flyers from the backroom at an extreme metal venue. The venue is now defunct. However, the backroom used to open after bands had finished at around 2 a.m. It was once a well-known site of trading and purchasing extreme and black metal recordings. The metal youth in question were able to attend this particular venue because they had access to either a car or a taxi fare to get home which was necessary given that public transportation ceased before m ­ idnight (Rowe, 2017a). With these three groupings now outlined, next I discuss three key themes that stood out strongly as significant points of difference between the groups (and were most obviously seen between the L-SES and H-SES groups). First, I will look at ways that participants constructed and talked about metal youth aligning with metal subgenres different to their own; second, I will examine different patterns of access, consumption and participation in metal practices between the groups; and third, I will highlight constructions of authenticity and choice.

Constructing the ‘Other’: How They Talked about Metal Youth from Other Metal Subgenres Some non-metal genres of music were universally criticised by participants across all three groupings. For example, many were irritated by the ‘simplicity’ of pop music and the ‘undeserved’ success of pop artists. Some were also critical of R’n’B artists whom (they felt) lacked morals and only sung about ‘getting laid and wasted’ (Joey). Nevertheless, when talking about metal, in the main, L-SES and M-SES respondents narrated a strong ‘in-group’ solidarity and sense of global community membership, irrespective of metal subgenre preferences (Jake was a notable exception I will highlight in the following paragraphs).

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    85 In stark contrast to this ‘all-for-one’ type of thinking, H-SES participants placed a much higher premium on obscurity and individualism in metal; they had very strong opinions on commercial and mainstream metal and tended to have quite negative views of fans and consumers of commercially successful metal bands. There was also a clear anti-American sentiment running through the narratives of H-SES informants (even from those who cited American hardcore bands as early influences), and this differed greatly to the more celebratory tone used by L-SES and M-SES when discussing US metal bands. I was not surprised to hear the extreme metallers denigrate nu metal bands (and their fans), as well as more contemporary commercial derivatives such as metalcore and deathcore – but I did not anticipate the criticisms of ‘angry metal’ that H-SES youth were talking about. In more than 30 years in metal, I’ve never heard ‘angry metal’ used as a derogatory (and often vitriolic) term, so I asked Serge (H-SES, black/doom metal) to define this for me. He told me ‘it’s mainly ghetto metal’ (in terms of perceived association with poverty, not the hybrid ghetto metal subgenre incorporating hip-hop influences). He also cited general examples of ‘ghetto bands’ like Slipknot, Mudvayne and Trivium. However, he also included bands like Pantera, Machine Head and Lamb of God due to the accessibility and high consumption of their music and apparel in outer metropolitan regions (Rowe, 2017a). Serge told me that one criticism of ‘angry metal’ was (what he called) its ‘compositional simplicity’ compared with the more ‘intellectually engaging’ black and doom metal: I think that angry metal is more one dimensional, it’s in your face, you get what you’re gonna get out of it with one listen, whereas some of the darker metal might take a few listens to piece together or break apart – it’s like a complex movie where you’ll get more benefit from multiple viewings. Aside from the nature of the music itself, Drew (H-SES, black metal) further criticised ‘angry metal’ bands by taking a more political anti-US stance and describing ‘them’ as ‘white trash’: It’s just so what America’s about, which is why I just cannot get into Pantera cos they’re real dope smoking idiotic metal. Slayer’s killer of course, but then you’ve got Lamb of God and Pantera and all that, yeah, nah, I’ve seen him [Phil Anselmo, Pantera vocalist] try and answer normal questions and he can’t even speak let alone pronounce something correctly. It’s just the epitome of American white trash, but I guess the music is catchy, if you’ve got a short attention span. Here, we see Drew start to launch some personal attacks on fans of ‘angry metal’, implying that they (or ‘we’, to include myself in this fan-base) have short

86    Heavy Metal Youth Identities attention spans. But there are also some interesting contradictions in his narrative: namely, the ‘free pass’ he gives to Slayer as not only a US band, but also for the hefty catalogue of ‘angry metal’ they’ve produced. In addition, he cited American hardcore bands as some of his earliest musical influences, but he didn’t differentiate this when he was describing ‘how backward America is’. Drew further described how he felt about the ‘newer’ wave of metalcore and deathcore bands and their fans: I see them as a bit suckerfish for it, I don’t think they’re ever gonna stick to this, everyone knows how there is that trend, it’ll be gone in a few years. That kind of music just seems completely secular to what I’m into, I don’t even consider it in my equation. I won’t hate a dude if he comes up and he’s wearing some crazy lettered shirt with big fleshies in, I’ll just be yeah, whatever, just like a normal person, I have my own world and they have theirs. When you first get into metal and you’re not really sure who you are, when you first get into the music and don’t know any better, I can see how you’d listen to it, and then on top of that you get all the day trippers running around in Cradle [of Filth] shirts and they think that’s black metal. When stating ‘I have my own world and they have theirs’, Drew constructed very clear borders between the subgenres. He attempted to make this all sound quite harmless in a ‘live and let live’ kind of way, but he was clearly adopting a superior stance and denigrating ‘Others’ in the process. He also dismissed contemporary metal (and its fans) as transient and alluded that any commercialised metal is inauthentic, black metal included (Rowe, 2017a). The only concession Drew made towards ‘core’ bands was acknowledging how they could serve as introductions to metal for those yet to ‘know better’. In contrast to Drew’s opinions about rejecting commercial success, the idea of not making a living out of playing metal (if one was able to) was outright perplexing to 18 year old Jake (M-SES, death metal guitarist): Another thing I don’t get with them [black metallers], anyone who’s broken through like Cradle of Filth, Dimmu Borgir, Gorgoroth, whatever, they all hate them now, they’ve turned on their own cos they got somewhere, now they call them commercial sell-outs, but they’re the ones who bought their records! Anyway, I don’t understand why to be ‘real’ you need the worst gear, the worst instruments, the worst production, and not sell any records. What’s that about? I’ve grown up poor, taught myself to play and I’d love to support myself playing metal if I could. I’m just not down with the whole objection to making a living from music, why not? I think there’s probably a lot of rich kids rebelling against the family money saying “Look at me, I’m true black metal, I have no

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    87 interest in money, I reject capitalism” and whatever. Did they hand make all the cassette tapes and the T-shirts they screen print on too? Where did they come from? Oh, that’s right, someone bought them, with money, from a shop … I mentioned earlier that, in the main, L-SES and M-SES participants didn’t criticise fans other metal subgenres, and Jake was the exception I raised at that point. To give some context to Jakes comments about black metallers, we saw in Chapter 3 that Jake grew up in ‘relative poorness’ to his peers in a middleclass, private college. Even though he ‘grew up poor’, his narrative still reflected a more middle-class habitus which is why he was classified here as M-SES (again showing the complications for categorising people). He might have been relatively economically deprived, but Jake was acutely aware of (and sensitive to) the elitist ideologies inherent in black metal and the classed phenomenon of social exclusion more broadly, whereas most L-SES participants were not (Rowe, 2017a). For example, we saw that Luke (L-SES) grew up as an extremely poor person in the Northern suburbs, but he (proudly) claimed a black metal identity that was built from many of the mainstream factors that Drew (and other H-SES youth) rejected. Drawing on Luke’s narrative, next I explore the theme of access, consumption and participation for metal youth with differing levels of resources and patterns of resourcefulness.

Patterns of Access, Consumption and Participation Like Drew, Luke was also 20 years old when we first met and described himself to me as ‘mainly black metal’. He turned up to meet me wearing a Machine Head hoodie. He had multiple facial piercings and ‘fleshies’7 that, to me, were more reminiscent of a metalcore or deathcore aesthetic, rather than any sort of black metal identity (revealing my own biased assumptions about metal identities) – remembering also, as we saw earlier, that Luke’s first memories of embodying a metal identity were at age 14, around the time his mother passed away and he started listening to Trivium (a flagship ‘core’ band). I asked Luke to tell me where he first remembered sourcing metal (of any kind) from and describe his experiences of trialling different subgenres on the path to forming black metal preferences: I would’ve been 14 or so, my caseworker gave me an iTunes card and I saw Trivium pop up on the recommended page so I listened to them and it just blew me away, like this stuff was HEAVY and I thought yeah, this is for me. I was still at school, getting into the

7

‘Fleshies’ are earlobe piercings that use various means to stretch the piercing out to become a much large hole.

88    Heavy Metal Youth Identities angry stuff to get through school, but then Trivium just wasn’t cutting it for me and I listened to Death Cult Armageddon by Dimmu [Borgir] cos I got given the CD and it blew me away, the keyboards, the symphonics, yeah, it just got me pumped up, it’s great. I’ve got every single Dimmu [Borgir] album in my iPod now, and Cradle [of Filth]. When talking about Trivium, Luke raised the concept of ‘angry metal’ in a far more positive light (than H-SES respondents) and credited it with assisting his grieving process and helping him get through school. He also talked at length about the continuing importance of Machine Head and Devil Driver’s music for helping him to cope with grief and loss and other routine challenges of life in the north (Rowe, 2017a). Nevertheless, he further discovered a love of black metal music, which also came about because of first being ‘given’ a Dimmu Borgir CD. Following his early introduction to metal through being ‘gifted’ an iTunes card and CDs; I asked Luke where he continued to source his music and apparel. He had purchased his Dimmu Borgir and Cradle of Filth T-shirts from a local music apparel shop, which was also where he found my details and a flyer advertising the research. He bought some of their albums at JB HiFi, and he would download some album tracks whenever possible, although it was often difficult to stay online long enough at friend’s houses to download full albums (Rowe, 2017a). Jeff (H-SES, black metal) was more sympathetic about the consumption of ‘angry metal’ than Drew (and others) had been and offered a more critical perspective about access to metal for ‘disadvantaged’ metal youth: I think that poorer kids do seem to prefer angry metal, maybe not so much cos they’re poor and angry, but that’s just what’s most commonly available. I think it depends a lot on the individual, but it’s also a bitch to get into the underground scene if you don’t know the right people or know how to get the CDs so it’s just as much an access thing as much as anything else, you can walk into pretty much any store and get a Slipknot or Mudvayne CD, if you wanna get a decent black metal CD you gotta go through one of the distros [underground music distributors] meaning you’ve gotta know them and have internet access and have a consistent mailing address and have a PayPal account or credit card or whatever so the access just isn’t the same for everyone. In sum, it was clear that commercialised metal offerings (whether ‘angry metal’ or black metal) were far more accessible for young people growing up in the north, and that more affluent participants had far greater access to purchasing much more obscure recordings and apparel (Rowe, 2017a). Piercings and body modifications were also more common to the L-SES participants in the north, most of which could be acquired at low-or-no cost as 18 year old Jordan (L-SES, metalcore) described:

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    89 I was going to local shows from about thirteen at the Underground cos it was all ages, then Taste of Chaos came around and it was Killswitch Engage and Underoath and stuff, so it wasn’t like heavy, but that’s what got me into it. By that time I was ridden with piercings, home piercings I’d done myself, my ankles, my webbing, my face was covered, I had hundreds of piercings, yeah, I was 13. At one show there was a wall of death happening and we were all getting piercings torn out – I got both my ankle piercings ripped out and the guys from Underoath were like what? They saw my ankle and thought it was brutal, there’s like this little girl at our show getting torn up – but after that I couldn’t get enough, I was like yes! I love this! For Jordan (and others), piercings, together with metal shirts, were key components of signalling metal identities in the north; whereas, none of the H-SES group had any piercings at all. Luke and Joey (both L-SES) had been especially vocal about their facial piercings, making a point of highlighting the ones they did themselves. They also shopped at the local apparel store where ‘knock off’ metal shirts could be acquired very cheaply. With a cheap metal shirt and a piece of jewellery for a ‘backyard’ piercing, metal youth in the north can (and do) embody metal identities for under 40 bucks a shot. With some patterns of access and consumption now outlined, next we will see ways that socio-economic positioning can shape young people’s access and ­participation in metal life, for better or worse. When I first met Luke at age 20, he’d been out of school for nearly four years. During this period, he had been churned through multiple vocation education training courses that had not resulted in employment; he’d also made numerous unsuccessful attempts to secure labouring work in a climate of very high unemployment with very few unskilled labour positions available. This was not a personal failing of Luke’s because it reflects quite ‘ordinary’ circumstances for many young people growing up in the Northern suburbs, and he was openly frustrated with the social realities of life in the north: I don’t wanna die and just be known as the guy who was always on Centrelink.8 I’ve been on it for three years now dealing with the same shit over and over, it’s monotonous. You walk in, you wait an hour, it’s all good and you go. An hour wait for nothing, nothing happens from it. I don’t like being unemployed, people think we’re dole bludgers. I didn’t choose this, people in that office aren’t there for the fun of it. We want work, but it’s hard when there just isn’t any, something’s gotta give.

8

Centrelink is the Australian Government agency responsible for delivering a range of income, parenting and disability support benefits to Australian residents on a low income, or no income.

90    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I asked Luke how he coped with all the setbacks and disappointments. He told me that ‘something shit usually happens once a week’ and that he just ‘puts the earphones in and deals with it’. He also said that how he was feeling was reflected in what he was listening to, and if it was a particularly bad day, he’ll ‘definitely be listening to black metal or something really heavy’ (Rowe, 2017a). It was clear that Luke’s ongoing access to metal was in fact very much restricted to ‘putting the earphones in’, because it was extremely difficult for him to get to metal gigs in the city, despite his yearning to do so. To contextualise the constraints on Luke’s participation in metal, Australian welfare policies require young people to enter into mutual obligation ‘activity agreements’. The ‘agreements’ serve as contracts to undertake approved activities9 in order to remain eligible for income-support payments (for people under 25, the payment is called Youth Allowance). Part of Luke’s activity agreement stipulated that he had to attend driving lessons 2 days per week at his own cost. Although he was excited at the prospect of getting his license, a lack of public transport (coupled with the budget constraints of paying for driving lessons) was affecting his ability to get to metal gigs: I haven’t been to a local gig for ages cos I just can’t get home most of the time, it’s really hard. I couldn’t even go to Amon Amarth’s show last week, I had to make a budget choice between seeing one of my favourite bands and a driving lesson, and I had to do the driving lesson – it killed me, the first time I heard Cry of the Black Birds, oh man, but yeah, I had to do the driving lesson or my hours wouldn’t be up and I’d be in deep shit [cut off from income support payments]. A lack of transport options wasn’t just Luke’s problem; transport justice has been a long-standing issue for residents of the Northern suburbs. Indeed, transport has been an enduring barrier for young people in the north to participate in a host of activities. Gigs in the city are particularly difficult for youth to attend as taxi fares are expensive to cover that sort of distance; and the last trains run before concerts finish. Historically, young people’s choices for getting home to the Northern suburbs after concerts have been limited to hitch-hiking, sleeping on the banks of the River Torrens10 and waiting for the first morning train (as two other L-SES participants reported doing), or for some, even stealing a car for the trip home (Rowe, 2016, 2017a). (Note: participants in previous research have told me about people they know stealing cars to get home to the Northern suburbs. This was not reported by the metal youth.)

9

Examples of approved activities include vocation, education and training courses such as Luke had done, or other job readiness programs, bridging courses to higher education and/ or volunteering activities. 10 The River Torrens runs through the city centre of Adelaide, South Australia.

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    91 None of these options were palatable for Luke. He told me he would only go if he could get a taxi home, but this option was extinguished by the need to pay for his driving lesson. For some young people, a driving lesson is a choice, which could have been deferred so they could still go to the gig – but for Luke, the driving lesson was contracted into his activity agreement, meaning it was tied to his income support payment. A survival imperative had trumped Luke’s his deep desire to see Amon Amarth play live – for him, no real choice existed. Luke was still upbeat about his chances of seeing Dimmu Borgir play at the upcoming Soundwave11 festival. Soundwave was far more accessible than regular gigs because shuttle buses and trams located outside the venue were linked to all major transport routes out of the city, and the 10.30 p.m. finish time meant that young people could transfer and catch the last train or bus home to virtually any location across Adelaide. Whereas most L-SES and M-SES participants were excited about attending Soundwave, H-SES participants described their contempt for mainstream touring festivals in detail and emphatically stated they wouldn’t be attending (Rowe, 2017a). When I asked Tim (H-SES, black metal) if he might go (to Soundwave), he sarcastically quipped that it might be fun to go and watch the corpse paint melt off of Dimmu Borgir band members during their mid-afternoon timeslot in the hot Australian summer. For L-SES and M-SES youth, attending the Soundwave festival was seen as a ‘must-do’ metal event, but for H-SES youth, Soundwave was viewed as a mainstream event for ‘day trippers’ (one of Drew’s terms for inauthentic metalheads) and was to be avoided at all cost. In stark contrast to Luke’s difficulties in getting to local gigs, by age 20, and with travel costs funded by his parents, Drew (H-SES) had toured nationally and internationally with his black metal band. They had been invited through underground black metal networks that the band’s guitarist had established in Europe. When the opportunity to tour abroad came up, Drew didn’t hesitate to withdraw from his studies and quit his casual employment: For two years after school I just rooted around touring for a while, that kind of broke things up and I failed uni as a result. I’d definitely leave any job behind to set off on the road for bit of an adventure. We were just away recently for a month and a half in Europe, staying on people’s couches, debauchery across the entire continent really, good times, can’t wait to do it again. [Because of touring] I lost my job again and I’m still not working at the moment so now I’m just living off the money I made from harvest on the farm ’til school goes back. I have these moments where I work really hard, then I go on tour and waste all my money, and then for like a month or two after I’ll run to mum or dad and say I

11

Soundwave was an Australian touring music festival held annually between 2004 and 2015. Metal, hardcore and punk rock bands featured prominently on the festival’s line-up each year.

92    Heavy Metal Youth Identities need help with rent and food and all that. My parents don’t mind; they fully support me. Now that the tour was over, I asked Drew what he was planning next. His foreseeable plan was firmly set on recording and distributing as many black metal musical projects as possible. He supposed that career aspirations were important to avoid ‘ending up in factory or shit-kicking jobs’, but he told me he was more concerned with ‘getting everything done’ in support of his musical ambitions and said ‘you have to live day to day if you’re working on lyrics, music, art, writing to people, and setting things up’. I pressed him to tell me more about how he got by financially, but he told me that he ‘just wasn’t that concerned about money’ because he was ‘more concerned with what he’d write on the stones of time and the legacy he would leave to black metal’. Other H-SES participants were similarly not concerned about work or money and displayed no sense of urgency regarding career aspirations (Stevo was an exception of this). Their parents were also funding their lifestyles and accommodation (Rowe, 2017a). Luke however, was clearly fed up with ‘being on Centrelink’ and living in poverty, as were others in the L-SES group. There was an obvious survival imperative among the L-SES youth (often surrounding accommodation needs) that was having a tremendous impact on the choices available to them in everyday life, as well as their lives-in-metal. In contrast, M-SES and H-SES participants had much higher levels of family support for everyday needs. In Part Two of this book, I will examine family resources much more closely as shapers or enablers of youth pathways over time, and in various transitional contexts. Nevertheless, here, we can see that receiving financial support from parents (or not) had significant consequences for the early metal identity ‘choices’ available to participants. Further, that resourcing implications were far more nuanced than just the direct funding of metal music and apparel. For example, Drew’s parents paid for him to travel and tour Europe, but they also paid for an elite private boarding school education where their son was introduced to black metal by a Chilean student who initiated him directly into ‘underground’ black metal at age 14. Drew had music equipment bought for him, and he was able to join a black metal band that consisted of older, well-established and globally connected band members. Via connections first made at boarding school, Drew was able to build networks capable of facilitating a pathway into the global underground black metal infrastructure. Drew became fluent in discussing key issues, ideologies and tensions that are well known in underground black metal ‘scenes’ and networks (Spracklen, 2015). By age 20, Drew really ‘knew his stuff ’, whereas Luke’s (also aged 20) conversations were restricted to what he had read or watched via commercial media sources. Luke was also a committed fan and researcher of black metal and ‘knew his stuff ’, but his ‘stuff ’ had come from very different sources. He had no introducer or pathway into underground black metal and did not have a credit card, PayPal account or stable high-speed Internet connection to find it for himself; he also did not have parents to fund his lifestyle. Rather than the

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    93 ideological conversations Drew was raising with me, Luke was better ‘informed’ about the more tabloid style reporting of Dani Filth’s12 behaviour on tour because he could read about it free in Kerrang! Magazine while standing at the local newsagency – a useful practice for sourcing free ‘information’ for those on a budget (Rowe, 2017a). Therefore, despite the globalisation of metal opening up access for metal youth like never before, the findings here show that local forces in a young person’s immediate environment still feature prominently in the structuring of early metal identity formations. According to Muggleton (2000), ‘youths from different social backgrounds can hold similar values that find their expression in shared membership of a particular subculture’ (p. 31). However, I find little similarity in the ways that Drew (H-SES) and Luke (L-SES) were able to ‘find their expression in a shared membership’ of the black metal subculture based on the resources at their disposal, which poses some problems for post-subcultural views on ­globalised access.

Constructing Authenticity and Choice Whereas L-SES and M-SES participants might not have enjoyed listening to all types of metal, they still considered themselves to be deeply connected to the entire global metal community (as they described it), and generously found merit in all styles of metal whether they personally liked it or not. Participants in these two groups talked at length about the comfort in seeing another metalhead in a metal shirt and ‘just knowing where they’re coming from’ (Jake). There was an air of certainty that came with a metal identity; particularly, for the L-SES group who faced tremendous uncertainty in other areas of their young lives – and with this certainty came an expectation of acceptance and belonging that many participants had struggled to find elsewhere. However, this was not the case for the H-SES participants who tended to construct ‘community’ and ‘belonging’ quite differently and, in effect, tried to narratively set themselves apart from other metalheads. Some in this group did claim that community was somewhat important, but in the main, they tended to distance themselves from needing to belong to a community as such, preferring to use terms like ‘infrastructure’ and ‘networks’ to signal relationships with other black metallers (Rowe, 2017a). Black metallers espousing individualism and avoiding social interactions (even with their own) is not new information here (Kahn-Harris, 2007; Venkatesh, Podoshen, Urbaniak, & Wallin, 2014). It was more significant to find that limited peer networks and social isolation by circumstance (such as boarding school and family breakdown) were constructed by black metallers as isolation ‘choices’ that enabled them to focus on individual black metal pursuits. For example, Drew said that finding black metal was a way of ‘cutting people off back home’ when he was ‘sent’ to boarding school; he also told me that embodying a black metal identity at school was a way of keeping people away

12

Dani Filth is vocalist for UK band Cradle of Filth.

94    Heavy Metal Youth Identities from him because he felt ‘socially inept’ in his new environment (except for the one relationship with the Chilean student mentioned earlier). I went through a stage [early on at boarding school] where I just didn’t wanna talk to anyone and they thought it was a major depression. I was just socially inept, but you can’t really explain that to them … Drew also told me that when he briefly returned to his rural hometown after boarding school, he found that his childhood friendship group had disbanded. He further told me that this actually ‘worked pretty well’ for him: I was right into black metal by then so I was all into solitude, just making music in the middle of nowhere type thing, so it worked pretty well for me … Another example was Jeff (H-SES) who took up black metal after his parents separated and moved across town away from his friendship group. He told me the move worked well for him because solitude is a core requirement for ‘getting in the headspace’ to write black metal music and lyrics (Rowe, 2017a). Jeff and Drew highlight a complex relationship here between black metal culture, social realities and constructions of choice. On one hand, we could view early black metal affiliations simply as something enjoyable and/or meaningful that young people engage in. But when we look deeper, it seems that black metal can also provide a young person with an ideological and empowering frame for biographically reconstructing circumstances that they otherwise might have no control or power over, such as isolation and ‘aloneness’. Black metal ‘choice’ biographies centre on a plot of authenticity that is augmented by isolation and having very few worldly possessions – so ‘being alone and going without’ can be celebrated by black metal youth, rather than being feared. Individualism, eschewing community and rejecting capitalism have been widely documented as core values underpinning authenticity in black metal (Hagen, 2011; Kahn-Harris, 2004; Kuppens & van der Pol, 2014: Spracklen, 2015; Venkatesh et al., 2014) – and the H-SES black metal youth I spoke to were skilled in acknowledging and performing these desirable values. In stark contrast, for others, being an authentic metalhead was signalled by ‘how much metal stuff’ one had. L-SES and M-SES participants delighted in showing me their collections of CDs, guitars, concert paraphernalia and recording equipment. As I pointed out in Chapter 3, previous research has found that competition through consumerism is higher for more disadvantaged youth because they feel more insecure about themselves and are searching for ways to raise their self-worth and ‘measure up’ to others (Sweeting, Hunt, & Bhaskar, 2012) [my emphasis]. The accumulation of metal collateral was indeed much more than ‘stuff’ to the L-SES and M-SES youth; there was a clear meaning attached to these items in terms of establishing not only a metal identity, but also

‘That Sense of Metal Community is Great’    95 a worthwhile identity that brought about elevated self-esteem. Darrell (M-SES, thrash metal guitarist) gave a particularly salient example of this. As he walked me through his home recording studio, he said, ‘Nowadays I wouldn’t be considered such a reject, people would be like oh you’re so cool, you’ve got all this stuff and all these things’ (Rowe, 2017a). We’ve seen how the different groupings constructed their own authenticity, but it was further interesting to see how H-SES youth assigned inauthentic status to their poorer counterparts: especially that this process of ‘Othering’ was underscored by perceptions of choice. H-SES youth tended to construct the metal identity formations of ‘Others’ as a free choice to join the ranks of commercialised metal. To H-SES participants, this was just a case of Others making ‘wrong’ or uninformed choices, rendering them inauthentic by default. While all participants did have the agentic capacity to form a metal identity, it was obvious that the options to choose from were far more limited for the L-SES group (and some of the M-SES group) showing clear patterns in ways that global metal identity formations were structured in local contexts. Crucially, we have also seen that H-SES youth reinforced these structural divisions by constructing their own choices quite differently to those of their poorer counterparts (Rowe, 2017a). Drew (H-SES) exemplified this. He had the ‘freedom’ to cycle in and out of education so he could take up musical opportunities; he constructed this as a choice to put his music first. However, his lifestyle was largely funded by his parents. To contextualise this further, Luke and Drew were receiving the same government income-support payment (Youth Allowance13). As stated, eligibility for Youth Allowance is tied to activity agreements that must be maintained. If the agreement is breached, there is a six-week waiting period to serve before re-application is possible. Then, generally, a further two-week waiting period is there for payments to be reinstated. The reality here was that Drew could repeatedly drop out of education and casual employment, go on tour and then receive financial assistance from his parents while he served the waiting period to become eligible for further Youth Allowance benefits. Luke, on the other hand, had no one else to pick up any shortfall in his financial circumstances. As a consequence of this, we saw that he ‘chose’ not to go to Amon Amarth’s concert because he couldn’t afford to get home afterwards unless he breached his contracted driving lessons to pay for a taxi (and breaching would’ve had dire economic consequences if his payments were suspended). It was clear that the ‘choices’ on offer to both of these young men were undeniably structured by economic factors and social realities (Rowe, 2017a).

13

Drew qualified for the living out of home rate of Youth Allowance because his family lived in a rural farming community. He was sharing rental accommodation in the city and eligible for payments if he met his activity agreement, which was to undertake higher education or be actively looking for work. His parents provided cash-in-hand top-ups to his Youth Allowance payments, and wholly funded his lifestyle and living expenses during times he was not able to meet his activity agreement.

96    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Concluding Remarks Boarding school life and parental resources had created very different pathways into metal for Drew than life in the Northern suburbs with no parents had done for Luke. Their narratives bookend the two extremes of my point here. However, the influence of class and place was observable in the metal identity formations of all participants, even if less obvious than Luke’s and Drew’s. What we don’t know is how someone like Luke with a more commercially oriented black metal identity would be received if he was suddenly able to cross paths with, or try to get to know other black metal youth. It’s important to think about this because we’ve seen how vitally important the idea of belonging to metal community was for Luke (and others); a sense of acceptance by like-minded peers was critical for re-authoring biographies of rejection into biographies of inclusion, and the ability to create this alternate belonging had strong protective benefits for mental health and wellbeing. However, what if the very metal community rejects one, one is counting on for acceptance? Where to then? We’ve seen how social relations with non-metal peers could shape self-talk, for better or worse. But how might classed constructions of authenticity inside the metal subculture reflexively shape early metal identity formations? The possibility of rejection by one’s preferred subcultural grouping has tremendous implications for diminished self-esteem and self-worth, and a damaged sense of purpose and belonging that can negatively impact on a young person’s mental health and wellbeing during a crucial developmental period in the lifespan (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, 2007). For me, as a youth worker, these are important questions that we don’t have answers to. Throughout this chapter, we’ve seen the broader significance of an ideally imagined metal community for providing a sense of hope and belonging, but now we’ve seen some ‘behind the scenes’ commentary suggesting that inclusion might not be as guaranteed as some metal youth might imagine. To this point, we have traced the role and importance of metal for withstanding the pressures of high school life, but next, in Part Two ‘Being Metal’, we will see what life was like for the same metal youth after they left school and had to start making some decisions about their futures. Part Two of this book will continue to keep a careful watch on the role of metal in participants daily lives to see how, or if, this changed over time, or not.

Part 2

Being Metal Over the last three chapters, we have seen how the pathways to becoming metal unfolded for the metal youth, giving context for the early formation of their metal identities during high school years. Part Two of this book, Being Metal, now shifts focus to critically examine what happened after these young people either completed or left high school. First, I need to point out that the term ‘being metal’ is not used here to represent the idea of performing metal identities – rather, ‘being metal’ is used here to think about performing life in general as a metalhead. It’s important to engage with this idea given the overwhelmingly negative accounts of metal youth and their developmental trajectories that I discussed in the Introductory chapter. Is metal such a problem for youth development? What influence, if any, does metal music and culture have on forming broader life and career aspirations? Is ‘being metal’ a help or a hindrance in other domains of life? To critically explore these questions and more, the next three chapters will draw on repeat interviews over a four-year timespan to provide rare insight into how the metal youth formed their personal and career aspirations, and whether or not their dreams were achieved, revised or abandoned altogether over time. Crucially, their stories paint a compelling picture of family and community factors that can help or hinder progress – and throughout these chapters, the spotlight remains firmly on the role that metal played in their lives as they encountered various twists and turns throughout their young adulthoods.

How I Approached the Study of ‘Being Metal’ from a Transitional Perspective Studies of youth transitions have traditionally focused on supports and barriers in specific transitional contexts that are prioritised for investigation by adults (particularly, transitions through education, training and employment). Employment and/or earning are clearly important for living a good life, but I wanted to set aside adult-centric norms around youth development – I wanted the young people to map out their own priorities and give us insight into how they were constructing them. To do this, I very broadly asked them what their plans were when leaving or completing school, what their current priorities were in their lives (at the time of the interviews), and what they felt (or hoped) lay ahead in the next five years of their lives. This provided a narrative sequencing of their aspirations through leaving school, whether or not they were on track for achieving them since leaving school, whether or not they still cared about achieving them, and how their

98    Heavy Metal Youth Identities thinking might have changed each time I checked in with them to see how they were getting on. Chapter 5 leads off with an overview of participants’ metalinspired aspirations. Chapter 6 looks more closely at who was on track for achieving their goals or not (metal-related or otherwise) and unpacks some of the factors shaping their biographic adjustments (self-talk about what was possible or what they should do next). Chapter 7 pulls together the final pieces of information that we can learn from these young people to inform how we can better work with and support subcultural youth with unique worldviews and interests.

Chapter 5

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’: Heavy Metal Dreams Reprised In his book Metalheads (1996), Jeffrey Arnett voiced his deep concerns for the metal-inspired aspirations of his interviewees in a section titled ‘Heavy Metal Dreams’. Since that time, other authors have also weighed in on predicting the gloomy and/or low-achieving futures of metal youth (e.g. see Tanner, Asbridge, & Wortley, 2008). I begin Chapter 5 with a critical review of Arnett’s approach to investigating ‘heavy metal dreams’ to highlight some key questions about metalrelated goals in life and pathways to achieving them (or not) that Arnett’s research leaves unanswered. Next, I provide an overview of the three most commonly held ‘heavy metal dreams’ that participants in my research reported – and within this, I begin to look at some of the positive outcomes of metal-inspired aspirations that I didn’t anticipate finding. The chapter concludes with two contrasting case studies that show variations in ‘flexible’ versus ‘fixed’ types of aspirations, and the implications of aspirational flexibility, or having a Plan B, for optimal transitional outcomes and wellbeing.

5.1 Are Heavy Metal Dreams such a Problem? It Depends Who you Ask … My dream is to one day play on a huge stage, that’s my dream. How that happens I don’t know, but I want to play a stadium with a whole wall full of amps just for me, yeah, that’s what I want. The best thing I get out of local gigs is seeing someone react to your music, that’s like a drug, someone headbanging to your music you have written – that’s like whoa, headbanging as hard as they would for Metallica? Fucking awesome! (Alex, 2012)

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 99–118 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181005

100    Heavy Metal Youth Identities […] there is a more subtle and perhaps more serious concern here than the possibility that metalheads might grow into adulthood emulating heavy metal stars. It is the danger that Emile Durkheim warned about a century ago: that young people who are socialized with a minimum of restraint may come to have expectations for their lives that are so exalted that reality cannot possibly satisfy them […] The danger for metalheads is that, for those who fail to fulfil their heavy metal dreams, the result may be an even deeper alienation than they are already experiencing. (Arnett, 1996, p. 87) Spoiler: Alex provided the first quote above in 2012. Five years, two SouthEast Asian tours, one European tour and three records later (and one with a side-project), at the time of writing (2017), he is currently on a 41-date tour in the United States with his main band (that he founded as a teen) – not quite in stadium-sized venues, and maybe not with ‘a wall of amps’, but a decent backline nonetheless – and from what I’ve seen on social media, also whipping crowds into the headbanging frenzy he had hoped for. While Alex might well be on track for living his ‘heavy metal dreams’, to be fair, Arnett’s concern was for those who fail to fulfil their heavy metal dreams. Even so, I would argue that young people (indeed people of all ages) regularly ‘fail to fulfil’ all sorts of dreams, heavy metal or otherwise. The important thing is whether one has enough resilience to cope with set-backs and push on in the face of adversity – specifically, whether one has the capacity to reflexively make satisfying ‘Plan B’ adjustments, or course corrections, along the way. ­(‘Satisfying’ being the key here in terms of achieving optimal wellbeing and happiness.) As we saw in Chapter 1, metal has a history of evoking higher-level concerns for the developmental trajectories of metal youth, with various authors speculating – or buying into the stereotypes – that young metalheads are somewhat pre-destined for low educational attainment and low-achieving futures. However, the bleak headlines have traditionally carried more impact than the rather more benign research findings: to date, there hasn’t been any compelling evidence to paint a clear picture of the role metal might play in transitional outcomes or, conversely, how other factors might shape the outcomes of ‘heavy metal dreams’. In response, Chapters 5, 6 and 7 will explore these ideas by providing deeply contextualised accounts of participants’ aspiration development and transitional outcomes so we can look at metal as one part of their whole lives (albeit a very big part). I begin by revisiting Arnett’s ideas about ‘heavy metal dreams’ for two main reasons: first, because he asked metal youth about their aspirations; second, because the way he reported on their aspirations left me with more questions than answers, which I raise in the following paragraphs. Arnett (1996) asked his participants about their goals for the next 10 years because he was interested in knowing how they might imagine their lives

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    101 ‘presumably after their enthusiasm for heavy metal music had waned’ (p. 85). Instead, he was surprised to find that most of his participants were (what he called) ‘actively planning’ their lives around a career as a metal musician (p. 84). Nevertheless, in effect, he didn’t actually investigate any ‘active planning’ at all (in terms of his participants’ pathway development, available resources and supports, or opportunities for reality checking and road testing ideas). Instead, he seems to have conflated ‘planning’ with ‘imagining’, further speculating that: For adolescent metalheads, it is easy and fun for them to imagine, at age fourteen or seventeen or twenty-one, that heavy metal lightning will strike them and they will be lifted to a life of fame and glory as a heavy metal star. Many of them have learned to play the guitar or some other instrument, and this feeds the fantasy, this bolsters the credibility of the dreams in their minds. (Arnett, 1996, p. 85) Arnett’s (1996) attention was on male participants here, so I’m left wondering if he was similarly concerned about boys learning to play sports, thus feeding any dead-end fantasies of becoming a professional sportsperson. In any case, he proceeded down the path of theorising metal as fodder for adolescent egocentrism and argued that metal was ‘especially apt’ for fuelling fantasies of having entire audiences focused on oneself (p. 85). When describing his desire for a career in metal, one of Arnett’s participants said, ‘I don’t want to have to go to work thinking, “Oh God”’ – prompting Arnett to argue that the idea of a career playing metal offers a way of avoiding the ‘drudgery characteristic of much middle-class work’ (p. 85). This raises several more questions for me. Don’t we all want a job that we like? Who does want to go to work thinking ‘Oh God’? Is there any chance that these youthful imaginings could serve as motivation for developing pathways of choice? And is it such bad news if a young person wants to apply themselves to a career that capitalises on their skills and strengths, and one that they find enjoyable? I recognise that if aspirations are to be achieved, they need to be grounded in a plan that is achievable, which is precisely why I wanted to know more about their actual planning, rather than value-laden commentary about what they were imagining. In short, I wanted to know whether their ideas were realistic, or not, based on the resources and supports they had access to. Despite the majority of Arnett’s respondents wanting to make a career out of playing metal, many also held other music-related aspirations in case they didn’t make it as a performer. I wanted to know more about their planning too; I wanted to know what was actually shaping their ideas, and whether or not they had sufficient resources to get their alternate ideas off the ground. What did they learn about having a ‘Plan B’, and where did they learn it? Moreover, wouldn’t it be important to investigate their capacity for making biographic adjustments that might be capable of staving off the ‘deeper alienation’ that Arnett was ­worried about?

102    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I pause here to point out that, while I might be coming off as defending metal here, my intention is more to raise these questions from a youth studies frame. I could be reading about any youth culture and asking these same questions if I wasn’t provided with enough information about the contexts in which young people form and change their ideas and approaches. As I said earlier, I will address this ‘gap’ throughout the remainder of the book by showing – through their deeply contextualised narratives – some of the obvious, and less obvious, twists and turns that shaped my participants’ decisions and, ultimately, their pathways. First, let’s start by looking at what the metal youth I spoke to were hoping for in life. Arnett asked his participants about their 10-year visions. However, social life (and mobility) has changed quite a lot since his study took place. I used to research 10-year plans as well. However, these days, I am more inclined to ask young people about five-year plans, which seem much easier for them to imagine and describe. I didn’t jump into asking about plans as such. Instead, I initiated conversations around ‘where you see yourself in five years’ so I could capture some of the narrative variations between imagining and planning. In Chapters 6 and 7, I include more detail about non-metal aspirations, but I focus on metal-inspired aspirations first because, almost without exception, they were the first things participants mentioned in relation to where they saw themselves in five years. Clearly, not much has changed since Arnett’s study in terms of metal youth wanting to do something metal-related in their everyday lives: an enduring passion for metal music and culture was inspiring my participants to dream of having lives-inmetal, in some form or another. Sample breakdown of the three most commonly held metal-inspired aspirations for the next five years: (1) 20/28 wanted to be writing, recording and performing metal music; (2) 14/28 wanted to explore other music-related career pathways; and (3) 13/25 had aspirations for metal-related international travel plans. The fact that metal youth wanted careers as metal musicians or alternate careers in some type of music/art-related field isn’t at all surprising. In fact, I would be hard pressed to imagine any metalhead not having dreamed of playing metal at some stage in their life. Later in this chapter, I will talk about themes one and two together – careers playing metal and other music-related careers – because alternate music/art-related careers tended to present as a type of ‘Plan B’ thinking if the hopes for a career playing metal fell through (as they had with Arnett’s sample). On face value, the third theme of travel might seem predictable (and not even a big deal) in that metal youth wanted to travel and see metal bands play. However, the bigger story in this was the nuanced influences that metal-related travel plans ultimately had on broader aspirations and developmental outcomes, as we will see next.

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    103

5.2 Metal-Related Travel Growing up in the 1970s–1980s, I didn’t know anyone who travelled abroad, it just wasn’t something that us blue-collar folk did. My auntie, a wannabe socialite, was the first person I ever knew personally who left the country and travelled outside of Australia (chasing romance and glamour in prestigious horse racing circles in Malaysia, as I recall). So while international travel didn’t seem possible for me and wasn’t on my radar, and remembering that social media wasn’t a globalising force in my youth, I do remember being motivated as a teen to jump on interstate bus services and see multiple shows that my favourite metal bands were playing in other states of Australia because I wasn’t content to see just one show in my home town. Also, I didn’t want to miss out on any variations in set-lists (again, remembering there was no YouTube to catch any rare performances up. If you weren’t there, bad luck.). However, things have changed an awful lot since then. The resurgence of openair music festivals in the 1990s spawned a slew of high-profile metal festivals (like Ozzfest and others, as well as more locally oriented festival type events around the world). In addition, importantly for patronage, the sharp rise in multi-stage metal festivals has travelled a parallel timeline with the even sharper growth of social media and the Internet. In short, there is so much more to do, so many more ways of knowing about it and greater visibility that other metal youth are attending these events. Therefore, it isn’t surprising that young people are talking about making these trips – they can see it’s achievable and that others are doing it. The metal festivals most commonly mentioned by my participants (in order) were Wacken Open Air festival (Germany), 70,000 tons of Metal (sea cruise), Bloodstock (UK), Hellfest (France) and Maryland Dethfest (United States), and all of these are events that receive a lot of metal media attention and promotion; they are highly visible and much talked about: Wacken is the only thing I HAVE to do, otherwise I take things day by day really. After Wacken and Bloodstock I wanna go to Ozzfest, Download etcetera. I don’t care if I go on my own, I’m going anyway. Wacken is the metal mecca – if you’re metal, you really should go. It’s a great metal community, everyone treats each other with respect, it’s nothing like we’ve got here scene wise … (Glen) These sorts of narrative canonisations of international events and scenes were common throughout the sample, and metal festivals weren’t the only source of travel inspiration that participants held in high regard. There were a number of subgenre-specific activities and sites of significance that they wanted to visit. For example, black metallers wanted to go to Scandinavian countries and visit the sites made famous by black metal folklore, and Pantera fans wanted to go to Arlington, Texas to visit the gravesite of slain guitarist, Dimebag Abbott (a trip that Alex did end up making down the track). Thrash metallers wanted to go to the United States (specifically, a pilgrimage to Oakland, CA), and also to SouthEast Asia due to the growing popularity and interest in Asian thrash and death

104    Heavy Metal Youth Identities metal scenes. I could personally relate to the band/subgenre-oriented motivations. As an avid Acid Bath fan, I’ve long wanted to visit Louisiana in the hope of seeing Sammy Duet play a local show with Goatwhore, or hear Dax Riggs sing live in one of his increasingly rare solo shows – something I may never get to experience, and will probably never get my ‘super-fan moment’ of having my Acid Bath tattoos photographed alongside any Acid Bath members. (I know Duet and Riggs have well and truly moved on to long and important music careers postAcid Bath, but those two Acid Bath albums in 1994 and 1996 will always remain hugely important to me.) Setting my own metal yearnings aside, there were many variations in where participants wanted to go and why, but the more important differences (in the context of the research) were whether they were on track for getting there, and why. Despite many of them having the dream of travelling to metal sites of significance, a much smaller number had managed to actually make these trips or had concrete plans in place for doing so. However, I should acknowledge that they were still quite young and potentially had plenty of time to do so in the future, but I can only comment on where they were positioned at the time of the interviews.

Case Study – Alex I first met Alex when he was 20 years old and becoming quite active in the local metal scene. He was attempting to get his own thrash metal band off the ground, and he’d just made the decision to travel to France on his own and attend the Hellfest metal festival (he had never previously been overseas and he had never travelled alone). Alex had been out of school for two years and was working a casual job as a ‘trolley boy’ at a local supermarket – he described this as taking some time to ‘chill out’ and decide what he might do about further study or career options down the track. I present Alex’s career development trajectory as a more detailed case study in Chapter 6, but I bring forward here the portions of his narrative around travel because he showed very interesting nuances in ways that metal-related travel could shape reflexive adjustments to other aspirations. No one in Alex’s family had ever travelled overseas, nor had any of his friends while growing up. However, he did know of several people in the local metal scene who had travelled to international metal festivals. I asked him what was motivating him to make the trip and what was making it seem possible that he could actually do it: Definitely my obsession for Coroner, I thrash them all the time, and when I saw they were playing their reunion show at Hellfest I knew I had to go, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. At the time, I decided I was doing pretty well with my job. I had a fair bit of cash saved up, I was like “What d’ya reckon, ok just do it, no looking back, lock it in”. I was nervous too, when I was paying for my flights I remember almost shaking, like “Oh man,

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    105 I can’t believe I’m doing this, I’m going to Europe on my own, hostels and whatever, whoa”, I just wanted to pay for it and be done, like “Don’t read it all back to me, just book it so I can’t look back!” Someone I knew was going to Wacken later in the year, and most people wanna go to Wacken, but for me it was “Nah, I wanna go to Hellfest”. Mum and Dad would’ve preferred me to go to Wacken with someone. I know it sounds really corny but I’m giving back to metal what it’s given me I think, going to Europe by myself for five weeks to Hellfest to see Coroner, people can’t believe I’m going alone. I’m super excited, I can’t wait. When I told people in the scene I’m going it made me feel really good, people were amazed I was actually doing it. It was cool man, to have that feeling, people saying “Oh dude, you’re doing it, you’re living the dream, you’re so lucky, you get to see Coroner”. A lot of metalheads have the dream … Alex’s self-talk around this decision comes through clearly in his narrative. He talked this over with himself a lot. He wasn’t from a wealthy family, he was working in a low-paying, unskilled, casual position as a trolley boy, but he was living at home with minimal expenses which enabled him to save for his trip – and he was secure in knowing he had the same domestic arrangement to come home to. Besides the obvious priority of getting to see Coroner’s reunion show at Hellfest, being celebrated by others in the local scene for ‘living the dream’ also seemed to serve as a motivating factor to actually do it. I met with Alex again after he returned from Europe to check in and see how it all went for him. He began by telling me about the festival itself. He told me how he had met up with a singer from an Adelaide thrash metal band who had moved to Sweden with his wife and posted on Facebook that he would be attending Hellfest. Alex made contact with him and they met in Paris and travelled to the festival site together: It ended up going really well, he and I went together, and I look up to him man, he’s a really good thrash vocalist, it was really cool us going together, I got to know him a lot better, I’d only ever seen him at gigs before he moved to Sweden. I was with him for about four days, but for five weeks I was on my own. I struggled a little bit with the language, I found a lot of them spoke English, but you had to make the effort and talk French to them first, then they were fine. Most people were really helpful. I had the best shower in my life after the festival. My hair was just baked dirt and sweat, it was so bad, but it was so fucking metal! I asked Alex to tell me more about how he got by during the five weeks he was on his own. He said that he often searched a website called the Metal Travel Guide to find local metal bars, clubs and stores and meet up with other m ­ etalheads in Europe:

106    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Every day I was looking up stuff on that, there were some great places, especially in London, I went to some really cools places. One joint was kinda like Enigma,1 it had the two floors going, they played heaps more heavy shit, full on death metal, it was really cool, I really enjoyed that. Another cool bar played Exodus and stuff. It’s always good to feel the vibe in a metal joint. In Europe there’s heaps of cool metal shops as well, in Belgium I found a really cool metal shop. My first day there was awesome, I got out, walked around this little town in Belgium and bumped into this guy in a Down shirt, he’s a good mate of mine now, but anyway I asked him if there were any metal shops and he said “I’m going to one now, you can come with me”, so we walked in there and it was awesome, the guy that owned it was super nice, in a thrash band actually, it was so fucking cool man … In Chapter 3, we saw how participants were imagining a sense of metal community at a very young age. We also saw how they viewed the metal shirt as a symbol of universal belonging and acceptance with like-minded others. The trip to Europe gave Alex an opportunity to test out metal kinship on a global scale; his travel experiences ‘proved’ to him that his early imaginings about metal ­community and immediate acceptance were true and correct. Alex described how the trip changed his outlook on future prospects in terms of more travel plans, and reported that he felt a lot more confident and a lot more independent after his return: My whole life I’ve been really babied, my Mum’s got such a nurturing background, even now, it’s like “Mum, I can do my own washing, stop it!”. So another reason I took the trip was to really have a challenge that I could do something on my own, you know, look after myself. It was really good; I came back a lot more confident for it. I felt so much more independent, taking care of myself. I printed everything out, had a document holder with everything organised, maps to tell taxi drivers where to go. I think the trip opened up a gateway of how easy it is, I was really fearful about travelling, but you don’t realise how easy it is. And you learn to find stuff out, send emails, plan stuff, organise yourself, it’s good. I’ll have to keep saving now. I’m looking at that seventy thousand tons of metal show now, I wanna go to that. All metal cruise? Awesome! Alex realised he would need to keep saving to travel more. This urge renewed his interest in career planning and financial independence. Specifically, he developed a growing awareness that he would benefit from having qualifications and 1

Enigma hosts a local metal club in Adelaide, South Australia.

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    107 flexible career options that would allow him to travel not only for leisure, but also to fulfil his dreams of playing shows overseas in the future. (To be explored further in Chapter 6.)

Case Study – Stevo Stevo had just turned 21 when we first met and was half way through completing a double degree in Chemical Engineering and Bachelor of Arts. He was a gifted student at high school but didn’t have any real sense of what he wanted to do post-school, besides writing and playing metal and getting more gigs in the local scene. Because of his particularly high Tertiary Entrance Ranking score at the completion of Year 12, Stevo’s teachers encouraged him to apply for the double degree, which he did, even though he ‘didn’t really understand what the actual work might be like or what he’d be doing for a job’. He described what he would have rather done, given the choice: I wanted to do a gap year and just focus on playing for a while but I didn’t have a job so my parents didn’t let me. The first two years of the degree were just engineering, now I’m moving into the arts side and majoring in music studies, hopefully I want to do honours in musicology. Personally, I’m not sure if I can get into that or whether I should work in engineering first. I don’t know what’s out there. Ideally, I’d like to study metal a bit in my spare time, and eventually come back and do a masters in musicology, I’d really like to make a contribution to the literature on metal like you are, it’s great to meet you and see someone actually doing it right here in Adelaide … I asked Stevo what he might like to research for his honours degree. Then, he talked through the possibility of collecting ethnographic data in Indonesia because he had a strong interest in Indonesian metal scenes. He had also read a research article by Emma Baulch (2003) and numerous articles by Jeremy Wallach (detailing Indonesian music scenes) that peaked his interest. He was unsure as to how he would go about travelling alone to collect the data as no one in his family had travelled internationally. He also didn’t know if it was something his university could arrange and whether he could get ethics approval to do the research. In addition, he was mindful of the workload ahead in completing his double degree, and that he had a relationship with his girlfriend to maintain. The next time I met with Stevo, he was excited to tell me that he had in fact been to Indonesia, but not to collect data as planned. The revised trip had come about after a string of changes in his life, during which time he felt that ‘everything was going downhill fast’. In the year since I had seen him, his band had played their final show and broken up, he had broken up with his long-term girlfriend (his first) and he was struggling to complete his studies. His two friends at university were also struggling with their studies. He told me that one of his

108    Heavy Metal Youth Identities friends had ‘removed himself from society altogether and was lost in gaming’, and the other was ‘finding it really tough’. Together, they had been discussing the realities of being in their final year at university and wondering ‘where the hell they would work’ when it was all over: We took the courses suggested to us just because we had the scores and now we’re burnt out in our early 20s, there’s just too much pressure and competition around employment. You’ve gotta love that stuff to do that to yourself. We try not to talk about it too much, everyone’s stressed out about it … Stevo told me that he self-identified symptoms of depression on a self-help website and realised that the pressure of his studies, the grief over his relationship break up, the loss of his band and his uncertainty around his future were all taking a toll on his mental health. He described how he was unable to focus on his studies, would sometimes sit for hours at a time staring at a blank screen and was finding it extremely hard to stay awake. He spoke to a counsellor at university and arranged to take some leave from his studies to work on developing ‘some coping strategies and life skills’ while he ‘got through the depression’. During this time, Stevo tried to keep himself busy – part of his wellness strategy was to spend time doing things he enjoyed, like researching Indonesian metal. He was also learning the Indonesian language, not only to support his research ambitions, but also because he was enjoying the challenge of writing lyrics in Indonesian. Stevo planned to reverse the trend of non-English speaking metal bands having to write and sing in English by writing and singing in Indonesian for Indonesian audiences, he felt privileged and excited to be at the forefront of ‘truly global metal’. Driven by a passion for Indonesian metal, Stevo made the decision to go to Indonesia and visit the local metal scenes before he returned to his studies. Like Alex, he was still living at home and had some savings accrued from his part-time job. He planned the trip for two months prior to leaving and took care of all his own travel arrangements. Despite feeling nervous about travelling alone, Stevo said that he drew strength in knowing that he would meet like-minded people when he arrived there: In the end, it was awesome, I met so many people in the local scene. I went to some gigs and also to some jam sessions. I even got asked to model a death metal shirt for a young band’s promo because of how I look, you know, the old school Western death metal look with the hair and the beard and whatever, I was almost a celebrity, everyone was wanting their picture with me [laughs] In earlier conversations, Stevo had told me how shy and quiet he was growing up. However, he had no difficulty establishing friendships and conversations in Indonesia. He attributed this to the globalisation of ‘metal kinship’ and said that it felt exactly the same in Indonesia as it did in Adelaide, in terms of easily

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    109 striking up conversation with other metalheads – a sentiment shared by Alex following his experiences in Europe. Besides being easily recognised by other metalheads when wearing metal shirts, Stevo reiterated that wearing metal shirts made him feel much more confident. He added that whenever he was feeling anxious or unsure, he would sometimes also draw on his memories of how he felt the first time he played to a live audience. He remembered the fear and anxiety being replaced by a sense of power and accomplishment. He drew on these memories to give him strength to take the trip – an experience that left him feeling very empowered and competent. On returning from Indonesia, Stevo took stock of his circumstances and decided that he needed to re-route his education pathway to align with a career path of his choosing, rather than step into the unknown based solely on what his high school ‘scores’ had qualified him to do. He had really enjoyed talking to locals in Indonesia and learning about social issues and humanitarian work. At our third meeting, Stevo reported that he had completed an induction programme to volunteer with a humanitarian organisation based in Adelaide with a view to mentoring and tutoring new arrivals. Through this experience, he identified a passion for teaching and, at our fourth meeting, he told me that he had enrolled in a Graduate Diploma of Teaching, as well as completing his Honours degree in Musicology in the hope that he ‘might be able to get back into metal research down the track’. (Note: he didn’t return to Indonesia for data collection as planned. He went on to base his research in Adelaide for practical reasons.) On face value, one might question if it’s such a big deal whether a young metalhead goes to a metal festival or visits a foreign metal scene. However, Alex and Stevo’s narratives have shown that metal-inspired travel aspirations can indeed turn out to be a very big deal for fostering strong developmental and transitional outcomes, when metal youth are able to achieve them. Stevo and Alex both credited their solo metal travel experiences as fostering significant life skills; vastly improving their confidence; allowing them to test their metal identities on a global scale and opening their eyes to the importance and value of education and employment for funding a good life of one’s choice. They both had part-times jobs straight out of school, but both were clearly far more motivated towards mapping out enjoyable careers with good earning potential after they returned from their trips. Further, the practical skills and sense of achievement acquired from planning and undertaking travel had imbued them with a sense that they could do anything if they ‘set their mind to it’ and backed it up with adequate research and planning. Positive self-talk, confidence, social recognition, skill development, an awakened sense of importance about financial independence, a broadening of career horizons and, crucially for Stevo, a key protective factor for mental health at a time he was feeling completely overwhelmed by decision making were significant and life-changing positive outcomes arising from metal-related travel for these two young men. A third participant had also travelled internationally for metal-related business by age 20, but with quite different outcomes to Alex and Stevo. In Chapter 4,

110    Heavy Metal Youth Identities we saw that Drew had toured Europe with his black metal band, but his travel was funded by his parents and the tour itself and the travel plans were organised by a much older band member with well-established connections in the underground black metal scene. Drew summed up his travel experiences as ‘good times’: We were just away for a month and a half touring all through Europe, staying on people’s couches, debauchery across the entire continent really, good times … Having had his travel plans made and paid for by others, Drew’s ‘good times’ equated to what he called ‘debauchery across the entire continent’, whereas Alex and Stevo both spoke at length about how good it made them feel to learn new skills, become more independent and test their metal identities out in a foreign country. There is powerful evidence here pointing to the importance of self-sufficiency and self-determination for developing strong learning and developmental outcomes. Youth studies has long reported on the importance of empowered transitions for the strongest life outcomes, meaning transitional pathways of choice that young people have some sense of ownership over (Thomson et al., 2002). However, for the first time, we are now seeing evidence that heavy metal music and culture – so often maligned and deemed a risk factor in young people’s lives – can have a profoundly positive effect on personal development by virtue of inspiring some metal youth to take calculated risks, like travelling abroad. Drew, on the other hand, missed the critical step of making his own plans and organising himself which seems to have limited his sense of achievement in terms of developing life skills and confidence, and ultimately hasn’t had any discernible positive impact on his transitional outcomes, other than having played in Europe, and having had a good time doing so.

What about the Others? Differences in Ability to Achieve Travel Plans So far, I’ve presented the stories of three participants who had all managed to travel abroad for metal-related activities. However, a further 10 participants also had metal-inspired aspirations to travel, yet they didn’t have clear or realistic plans in place at the time of the interviews. Their narratives do, however, reveal some common themes pointing to why they perhaps weren’t on track with their plans. The first thing that stood out for those who were not on track to achieve their travel plans was their overall vagueness about travel imaginings; none of them had done any research, spoken to anyone who had travelled or seriously investigated what it might actually take to get there. For them, travel ideas were occupying more of a fantasy space in their imaginations. Deena (age 22) gave an example of this in her narrative: I really have this dream of being overseas and living somewhere else, I really like Australia but I don’t wanna live here my whole

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    111 life so I’d really like to live in Scandinavia somewhere. Black metal is no big deal over there, it’s so accepted that black metal bands win awards on regular award shows like the Emmys and stuff, but here, people hear you’re into black metal and they think you want to kill people, it’s ridiculous. I’d love to go over there, but I don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. I’d really like to travel before I have kids, I’d really like to move overseas and then have kids, but yeah, I don’t know. I really wanna do it before I have kids and a mortgage comes along … Elsewhere in Deena’s narrative, she stated that her five-year plan was to have a baby with her boyfriend and move out of home, but at other times she said she ‘can’t move out on Centrelink money’ so she needed to study and get a job. Her ideas were all over the place: she wanted to travel internationally before having children, but wanted children within a five-year period. However, she was not in a financial position to even move out of home, let alone travel or start a family (interestingly, Deena had done a placement in childcare as part of a community education course but found she ‘just wasn’t into it’.). It’s worth pointing out here that Deena’s ‘metal lifeworld’ largely consisted of herself, her boyfriend and the Internet, as they were not embedded in metal community life: I met my boyfriend the year after high school, he’s still into gore but he mostly listens to black metal now, he’s actually got his own band going as well, it’s just him by himself and he does all the corpse paint and wears the gauntlets, he looks cool … Deena and her boyfriend were reinforcing each other’s travel aspirations, but they weren’t making any progress towards achieving them. They had no firsthand knowledge of anyone who had actually travelled abroad; Deena’s information was being filtered through her boyfriend’s Internet searching of black metal culture. She had numerous landmarks picked out that they wanted to visit, like the rebuilt Holmenkollen Chapel in Oslo (Varg Vikernes of black metal band Burzum had famously burned the original church building down in 1992), and various other sites of significance in black metal’s history. Luke was similarly vague about his travel ideas. Despite being very clear about wanting to travel to Germany to attend the Wacken Open Air festival, when I asked him how he would get there and where he would stay, he told me he had met ‘these two dudes’ playing an online video game who could tell him where to stay in Germany. However, this did not constitute having any real sense of what it would take for him to get there. He also switched up the idea of going to Wacken with actually relocating to Germany to increase his chances of becoming a guitar technician, but as we saw in Chapter 3, he was struggling to afford to get to gigs in his own hometown, let alone travel to Germany. He did concede that ‘Germany is more of a pipe dream’, Luke was so frustrated with life in the Northern suburbs that the idea of escaping it all and starting fresh in Germany seemed to provide some narrative respite from his social realities.

112    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Luke’s rather unrealistic fantasy of an alternate and successful life as a guitar tech in Germany was somewhat reminiscent of Arnett’s argument about the escapism that metal can provide young people with no basis in reality – but I re-emphasise that life in the north is fraught for many young people. Youth unemployment in the north is nearly the highest of all Australian metropolitan regions; and youth accommodation and mental health services cannot keep up with the demands placed on them. I regularly work with youth in the north, and most of the young people I speak to have fantasies about a successful life of their choosing and leaving the north, which generally aren’t grounded in reality either (like marrying Justin Bieber and moving to the United States, to name just one). Therefore, the point here is that these ideas and yearnings are across the board, I don’t believe that metal has any greater bearing on adolescent fantasies than other youth cultures, as Arnett had hinted at. In terms of making the shift from dreaming to doing it, what seems to make the biggest difference is a configuration of resourcing, resourcefulness and recognition. Obviously, there is an economic factor to international travel. However, Alex and Stevo were working in unskilled part-time jobs and thus managed to save for their trips. They saved up while living at home, but so could have others like Glen, Jeff and Jordan who also wanted to travel; who were also living at home and who were also drawing similar (if not higher) incomes as Alex and Stevo – but a key difference was that these three weren’t playing in bands and weren’t embedding themselves in metal community life (besides attending gigs), whereas Alex and Stevo were. Alex had declared how good it felt to be recognised by metal peers for ‘living the dream’, but this recognition wasn’t available to those not participating in metal community life. (I will talk much more about meaningful participation in metal community life in Chapter 6.) I conclude this section by detouring slightly to point out that Alex and Stevo were in their early days of playing in the local scene, and metal readers will know that means making metal, not making money (and generally operating at a financial loss). I point this out in the context of Arnett’s concerns for metal youth wanting a career playing metal that (he proposes) is destined to fail because of ‘how crowded the field is, how many other young men are grasping for the same goal, how much work and sacrifice and talent and good fortune it would require of them’ (p. 85). However, this idea of ‘failure’ is overly subjective because Arnett set the bar at a level he deems successful, when in fact many metal musicians gain tremendous satisfaction from playing in their local scenes as a side-line to other paid employment. This loops back into my concluding argument here: that aspiring towards a career playing metal in the first instance can tip a chain reaction of factors (like metal-related travel) capable of fostering skill development and shaping broader career outcomes. Metal as a motivating force is actually far more nuanced than we think, and if we dismiss it as trivial, or outright discourage it, we could be hindering some key developmental opportunities for metal youth. Next, I present two contrasting case studies of participants who also had clear aspirations for a career playing metal, yet their narratives reveal quite different

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    113 attitudes to planning their music careers and whether or not they had a ‘Plan B’ in place, and why.

5.3 Playing and Plan B Case Study – Zack Zack (aged 24) aspired to ‘make it’ playing metal, so I asked him to reflect on how his thinking first became geared towards a career in metal. He told me that he excelled in visual art at school and was planning to enrol in an arts degree post-school, but his friendship group changed in Year 10 and he started ‘hanging around with musos’ and began jamming with them. He took to music naturally and was influenced early on by his friends’ nu metal preferences. Zack had some big decisions to make at school because, at that time, the South Australian Certificate of Education system only allowed one subject choice on the arts/music subject line to corral students into having to take up Year 11 STEM subjects (science, technology, engineering, maths oriented). (As a youth worker during that era, I lost count of how many times young people came begging for help to overthrow the system so they could follow their art and music passions and study them in tandem, which only makes sense for those so inclined. Having to choose between visual art and music was emotionally torturous for many, leading some to drop out of school completely.) Zack’s parents had been supportive of his pathway towards an arts degree, he described how they reacted to his decision to drop art and pick up music instead: They were always pretty liberal towards what I wanted to do, like wanting to get into music in year ten which is fairly late, even the music teacher wasn’t supposed to take me on, I don’t know what he saw, but he could tell I should be there so he let me in. Mum was a little hesitant cos I had to drop out of art to do music class, it’s not like she said no, but she was just encouraging me to think really carefully about it cos art was what I’d always done and I was really good at it, she didn’t wanna see me just throw it away, but we talked about what I could do with music after school and they came around when I told them the plan. In the end, music has taken off for me and they’re really happy with what I’m doing now. We talk a lot, they just trust me I guess … Post-school, Zack followed his plan and enrolled full-time in the Certificate IV in Music at TAFE while also doing some part-time work in a retail music store. After successfully completing the course, he deferred his studies for one year so he could work full-time at the music store and save a deposit to buy a house. At that time, the Australian government was offering attractive home-buying incentives including the First Home Owner’s Grant. When it was announced that the grant would be abolished the following year, Zack’s parents strongly encouraged him to stay living at home, rent-free, so he could save a deposit and secure a grant before the scheme was finalised:

114    Heavy Metal Youth Identities They were gonna cut off the first home owner’s grant so we went for it. My folks encouraged me, I’ve always been really good with saving money, my first pay check went towards this Mac [points to computer set-up in home recording studio]. I need to keep piecing the stuff together for the studio. I saved money at home, I had a good family life so there was no need to get out and rent, as they say, well rent money is dead money, so I could save as much money as I needed at home and then this house came up and we had the deposit so we went for it … Home ownership is increasingly out of reach for many people in Australia, yet by age 22, Zack and his girlfriend had found a modest property to purchase in the Northern suburbs. Once they had moved in, he transferred from the ‘cert four’ programme and resumed his studies in the Diploma of Music at TAFE. He also continued to work full-time in his retail position so he could finance recording equipment for his home studio with a view to establishing himself as a producer. Zack and I had our first (two hour) conversation together sitting in his home studio (I also met up with him several times at shows he was playing). He played me portions of projects he was working on and I asked him how he had ventured down the path of producing. He couldn’t pinpoint one defining reason for this. He said that it was a combination of things like ‘naturally having a good ear’, enjoying his first experience in the studio when his band recorded their demo some years back, ‘talking to musos a lot’ in his day job at the retail store and ‘feeling out the need’ for accessible and affordable production for emerging artists of all genres. Zack also realised two key things around this time: that he had to work to pay his mortgage (because he loved adding to his studio and enjoyed the security of knowing he couldn’t get ‘kicked out’); and that he’d be happy in ‘any job that can pay the bills as long as it’s got something to do with music’. His plan, therefore, was to ‘hedge his bets’, as best he could, to ensure that he could earn a living out of music in some way or another: In five years, I plan to be a rock star and all that sort of stuff you hope will happen. I’ve got a few bands I’m playing in at the moment but my main band is *****, that’s my baby, I try and make that happen the most. I’ve been recording bands too so I wanna get more into that, I see it going hand in hand with being in a band, it’s all in the industry. I wanna believe that just doing the band will make it, but there’s always that little voice in the back of your mind, that little doubt that drives me to think well if I’ve got this recording studio as well, it’ll all be cool, but I’ll press on with the band, definitely! We really wanna get a CD out, we know we really need good management, that’s the only thing I don’t know much about, I know without contacts you can’t get far. I wanna finish my studio within the next six months too and peel back the

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    115 hours at work, yeah, the future’s all music driven. It’s disappointing when you do see bands who get signed because they’ve got a look and not so much for music, it does get disheartening a little bit, but in the end, the really great bands who stay there always have something honest about them. For me, I’ll just keep trying and doing what I’m doing from the heart and hope that it eventuates. At the moment I’m in three bands so that’s three practices per week, I’m recording bands and I’m still working 40 hours as well. I really wanna record bands for money when the studio is done so I can taper back the retail hours and still make mortgage payments. Every time I’ve got free time there’s always something to fill it with in terms of music, even this, talking to you, I thought yeah this’ll be great to meet someone and chat about metal – as long as it’s something that interests me and has something to do with music then I’m happy to be doing it … As well as having the recording studio as an alternate plan, Zack also enjoyed his work at the retail music store because he was around music all day long and had daily conversations with ‘music people’ that sometimes resulted in getting gigs or engineering work (he was really keen to learn any new information that could give him a leg up and also picked my brain at every opportunity). Zack felt as though he had set himself up in a ‘win-win situation’ because he was able to draw a secure income from the retail job while he worked towards building his band and his studio up. A crucial element of the retail position, however, was Zack’s exposure to, and conversations around, a broad range of musical genres. As much as he loved (and was motivated by) metal, he was happy to learn about other musical forms and excited about the prospect of recording other genres. In Zack’s words, he ‘wasn’t precious about metal’, and he wouldn’t let it restrict his options for making a career out of music in general. Part of this re-visioning, according to Zack, had included making peace with the reality that ‘metal musicians need a solid Plan B in life’.

Case Study – David The concept of the ‘Plan B’ that Zack described above (or ‘back-up plan’ or ‘fallback position’ as described by other participants) was highly contentious, if not outright irritating for David. David had just turned 22 when we first met and been out of school for nearly four years since completing Year 12 at boarding school. He had no study or work plans in place before he left school. However, soon after completing school, he became aware that he needed to be engaged in an approved activity (study, training or employment) to be eligible for Youth Allowance income support payments (described in Chapter 4). Post-school, maintaining eligibility for income support was crucial for David so he could afford accommodation in the city and avoid returning to the country, a move that would mean having to leave his band.

116    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Out of school, and with no career aspirations in place (other than a career in music), David enrolled in a Certificate II in Community Pharmacy at a community college because it was suggested to him once by a teacher at school. He had no career ambition to work as a pharmacy assistant whatsoever. His decision to enrol in the course was based purely on three things: a teacher had told him about it, he had to pick something to remain eligible for Youth Allowance and it was close to his home (a room he sub-rented in the home rented by his mother and her new boyfriend). I asked David why he’d left his decision making until after he left school, and if he’d given any thought to further study while he was still at school: You’re kidding, after all those years at school, and you people [peers] wanna keep studying? No way, I’d had enough. Maybe one day, I don’t know what. I don’t really think about having a fallback position, people have suggested back-up plans to me in case music doesn’t work out, like you should be doing a trade or whatever. But if I was setting myself up for that there’d be less focus and energy for my actual aim – lots of people don’t even have one, so they’re continually doing some job and probably get drunk on weekends to forget it ’til Monday. I’ve actually got my plan, even if other people don’t see it as a real career goal, but it obviously is one, people are actually doing that sort of thing [making a career as a metal musician] and I’m a hundred percent sure that’s my aim, I’m a hundred percent determined for that to become real so I don’t look for back-up plans while I’m this passionate and committed to it. I’m half way there already, I’ve just gotta show people I can do it … David really had no interest at all in the pharmacy course, he was only doing it to remain eligible for income support payments so he could stay in the city and keep playing. In fact, he ended up dropping out of the course because it started taking up too much time and affected his ability to practice playing the drums. David described how this period, the first year after school, shaped the way he would go on to prioritise his aspirations and make paid employment fit around his musical development: I was there at the pharmacy academy from nine to five each day so I wasn’t getting a lot of practice time. I couldn’t come home on lunch breaks, and weekends are rough for practising drums cos you have to respect neighbours at some stage. I thought if I go into a job, I’m gonna be doing similar hours and I started thinking “What’s gonna happen with my music?”, so I thought I’d try and find a job to work around it and I found a night shift job at a printing factory. For a long time, the next year and a half, I worked from 11 pm to 7 am. I’d get home at 7.30, sleep ’til 11.30, practice drums from 12 ’til 3, go to bed again 4 ’til 8 pm, get up, eat and go

‘No Shit I wanna be a Rock Star, but for Real You Need a Plan B’    117 to work. I don’t know how I managed to keep that up for so long with the split sleep – but all the practice was great for me, until I tore a muscle in my wrist from practising so much… During this period, David also began playing live shows. His band quickly gained national prominence in the Australian deathcore scene. They were getting airplay on a national radio station and soon playing support slots on major concert bills (without personally knowing David or his participation in the research, many other participants made reference to his band and their success during our talks). I went to see David play and can confirm (in my opinion) that his selfbelief in his talent was entirely warranted; he was indeed an extremely talented metal drummer playing in a band with equally talented musicians writing and playing original music: After that I knew I wasn’t set out for a day job, or any work where I couldn’t play drums. It was growing inside me really strong, and I have to accommodate it now. I left that job when I hurt my wrist and then I worked in a call centre for a while but it got hard to practice again with that job. I got a job at a supermarket after that and moved into this place with my brother. I can’t stay with my mum any more cos the drumming was wearing on my mum’s boyfriend, a lot of people around me were very negative about my music so I had to get out of that, that won’t help you… David further described how deeply committed he was to stitching together employment (and accommodation) that could fit around his primary focus of playing drums: I got full-time hours at the supermarket, which sucked a bit for my music, but at least I could come home at lunch and practice for 45 minutes, and I’d finish about 2.30, so I had at least two hours after work I could practice, so I was easily getting two to two and a half hours practice a day. Since the pharmacy academy, I definitely pick my work places according to how I can play. But unfortunately, I just hurt my wrist again so I’m not working or jamming at the moment, just going to physio every day to get it right. I’m not sure if I’m going back to that job, I guess it depends how long I take to heal. Being a drummer is all I think about being, and the fact I’m out injured makes it hard to think long term about anything else around working. I’m just putting my time and energy into getting my wrist better, my whole mind is set on playing music… David saw his possibilities through a filter that was much more limiting than Zack’s. Even though David was playing regularly, he wasn’t really embedded in metal community life. He would ‘rock up to gigs, load in, play, load out and leave’ – all of the band’s networking and promotion activities were done by other

118    Heavy Metal Youth Identities band members. Besides, David said that being a drummer made it ‘difficult to hang around with so much gear’ (because he would have to load out quickly after shows). Everything that David was recognised and celebrated for in life hinged on playing, and this was reinforced by audience appreciation (‘crazy pits when we play’), fan accolades on social media and positive national press releases and reviews. Zack, however, was celebrated much more widely in everyday life and was recognised for achievements in various domains besides playing metal (like producing, art, buying a home at age 22, and the specialist knowledge he brought to his retail position). David had another major influence in his life that was shaping his ideas as well. He was living with his older brother (a sludge metal musician) whom he looked up to and admired, and he told me about his brother’s attitude to people ‘who don’t give it 100% and sell themselves out’ – meaning people who don’t fully commit to playing metal. David’s narrative was littered with his brother’s influence on many topics, but especially around ‘selling out and giving up’.

Summarising Thematic Differences Two things really stand out in Zack and David’s stories. First, their different approaches to planning in that Zack’s ideas were quite ‘flexible’, but David’s were quite ‘fixed’. Second, comparing the implications of flexible versus fixed aspirations for mental health and wellbeing when we consider Zack’s happiness with earning money from any job with music and David’s unhappiness with having to do anything that took him away from playing. Indeed, the implications for holistic wellbeing are far reaching when we see that Zack’s flexibility had enabled him to obtain secure employment and housing, whereas David’s rigid mind-set had landed him in much more precarious circumstances – life could have changed significantly for him at any moment (his brother had already talked about giving up the rental property and travelling); he could be jobless and homeless with no alternate plans in place and nowhere to even practice playing the drums. David’s ‘rock star or nothing’ mind-set is precisely what Arnett was worried about for metal youth. However, Zack has shown us that satisfying alternatives do exist. What they both show us is that metal aspirations aren’t ‘one size fits all’ and in fact, there are tremendous variations in how young people approach this; what shapes their thinking; and how well they can adapt and revise their plans along the way. Moreover, these distinctions were not particular to just Zack and David, far from it, they were observable in some form across the entire sample. Metal preferences have long been viewed as negatively affecting youth development and transitions, yet Zack and David were both metalheads, but on very different trajectories, which poses major problems for those sorts of generalisations (and stereotypes). Clearly, relationships and resources matter a great deal for the pathways metal youth find themselves on, which Chapter 6 will explore next in much detail.

Chapter 6

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’: From Dreams to Reality, What Does it Take? To this point, there have been quite consistent themes applying to all participants – namely, the pure enjoyment of listening to metal, feelings of belonging and acceptance by metal community, the significance of metal for increasing confidence and the ways in which metal can inspire a range of hopes and dreams and career aspirations. However, here in Chapter 6, participants start to break apart as some stay on target for achieving their dreams, while others are not doing so well or rethinking their goals completely. In this chapter, I provide case study accounts of what helped the metal youth to stay on track, what stood in their way or what derailed them completely. The compelling narratives show us how family and metal community life can shape young people’s pathways and, crucially, we will see that poorer outcomes (where they existed) were shaped by enduring social and family factors that can affect all young people, regardless of their musical preferences or subcultural affiliations.

6.1 Developmental Versus Default Pathways Chapter 5 concluded with contrasting case study examples showing Zack’s aspirations as being quite ‘flexible’, whereas David’s were far more ‘fixed’. I want to unpack this comparison further now by shifting to notions of ‘developmental’ versus ‘default’ pathways, because this was how I saw the sample really breaking apart, into one of these two categories. I use the concept of developmental pathways to describe transitional pathways that showed some evidence of reflexive deliberation and, to the degree possible, agentic control on the young person’s part; meaning that they were able to find or take in new information, tweak their ideas if need be and make satisfying adjustments along the way. Therefore, while there is an element of the flexibility that I talked about in Zack’s case, it is not just the flexibility to accept whatever comes; rather, it is the flexibility to find, adapt and roll with other options that will still be satisfying.

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 119–142 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181006

120    Heavy Metal Youth Identities On the other hand, I use the idea of default pathways to capture the transitional manoeuvres that participants seemingly had little (or less) agentic control over – pathways they had fallen into by default (and not of their choosing) for a range of reasons that would become evident throughout this chapter. This is more a case of looking at what can happen when ‘fixed’ aspirations (like David’s) fall apart and there’s no alternate plan in place. These groupings aren’t perfect because the uniqueness of human experience messes everything up for researchers who try and make any concrete social categorisations, and I say that’s a good thing! But these groupings, rough as they are, still serve as a useful frame for looking at factors that can shape young people’s self-talk, and ultimately the ‘choices’ they make at different points throughout young adulthood – remembering that ‘choices’ are, more often than not, shaped or constrained by relationships and resources, as we will see. Tables 6.1 and 6.2 show the division of participants into Group 1 and Group 2, followed by an outline of the characteristics, or themes, evident in each group. (Three of the original sample of 28 participants have not been allocated to a group here and their narratives do not feature in this comparative analysis because they were still completing high school and not yet embarking on post-school planning during Stage 1 data collection. Despite having no baseline data on five-year planning for these three leading into Stage 2, their Stage 1 data around forming metal preferences was still important to include in Part 1 of this book.) Some readers might question why there’s no column for socio-economic status here; this is because I prefer to discuss elements of social (dis)advantage in the context of case studies as they arise (this is part of the human ‘messiness’ I mentioned previously, and also talked about in Chapter 4). For example, some participants lived in quite middle-class areas, yet they were living with only one parent on a modest income or welfare benefits. In contrast, some participants lived in ‘poorer’ areas with two parents who worked, even if in low-paying unskilled jobs. (These nuances become an important part of the story in Chapter 7 when we look at ways to better support metal youth.) The basis for making the themes indicated in Tables 6.1 and 6.2 are outlined as follows:

Tangible Family Support Tangible supports are understood here as the concrete resources that families might provide. These include things like – the provision of financial support, tuition fees, accommodation, furnishings, Internet access, computing and/or musical equipment, transport, food, basic utilities and other various daily essentials that one might need.

Intangible Family Support Intangible supports are conceptualised as the ways families (and others) might engage with a young person’s worldview and encourage their interests, and how families might initiate informed discussions about pathways and aspirations and

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    121 Table 6.1: Group 1: Developmental Pathways. Participant

Alex Stevo Jon Zack Aaron Mason Chloe Jason Robbie Glen Darrell Drew

Tangible Family Support Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes

Intangible Family Support Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Partly No

Meaningful Participation in Metal Community Life Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Partly Partly Partly No Minimal Minimal Partly

Table 6.2: Group 2: Default Pathways. Participant

Bryant David Luke Jake Tim Danielle Jordan Deena Joey Phil Mark Serge Jeff

Tangible Family Support No Partly Yes Partly Yes Yes Yes Yes No No Yes Yes Yes

Intangible Family Support No No No No Partly No No No No No No No No

Meaningful Participation in Metal Community Life No Partly No No No No No No No No Partly No No

122    Heavy Metal Youth Identities co-research the requirements for achieving them with their children. Essentially, this means showing trust in a young person’s self-determination and confidence in their decisions, but it does not mean blindly trusting and leaving outcomes to chance. This is about actively engaging with, and understanding young people’s interests and reflecting back on them considering they are trustworthy and their ideas are worthwhile (although it may take parents some time to understand the merit in their child’s ideas and talents).

Meaningful Participation in Metal Community Life Meaningful participation in metal community life means to regularly engage with face-to-face metal communities to establish networks, access mentorship and road-test metal aspirations in a community of like-minded metal peers. I recognise the growing opportunities to engage with online communities and I don’t wish to minimise their importance. However, I argue that face-to-face participation in local metal community life is vitally important for developing skills, learning the ropes and reality checking one’s aspirations, for critical reasons that will be explored later in this chapter. The first and third themes – tangible family support and meaningful participation in metal community life – are the focus here in Chapter 6. The second theme of intangible support is rather more complicated and will be examined in Chapter 7. Next, I provide a summary of the two different groups, and each summary is followed by an in-depth case study to illustrate some the themes common to each group.

6.2 Group 1 – Developmental Pathways The metal youth allocated to Group 1 shared a number of common themes and trends; particularly, in terms of the supports and resources they were able to access. Significantly, participants in this group were able to develop ‘webs’ of support that usually incorporated both family and community resources. Of the 12 participants in this group, eight were still living at home in secure accommodation. This meant that their parents were happy for them to live at home (usually rent-free) while they studied or developed their preferred pathways. Interestingly, these families lived in a range of locations from ‘poorer’ to wealthier areas, meaning that accommodation support was not always dependent on family income. Of the other four participants in Group 1, one was living in rental accommodation subsidised by his employer, one was sharing rental accommodation with friends that his parents were subsidising and two (from low-income areas) had bought their own homes after being encouraged by their parents to stay living at home long enough to save a deposit. Parents of Group 1 participants also provided financial support where necessary (or as able), or at least ‘in-kind’ support by providing food and not expecting any financial contributions to household bills, food or other expenses. In short, as Alex summed it up, ‘it’s easier to follow your dreams living at home’. Aside from these tangible supports, the parents of this group also ranged from being supportive of metal pursuits to showing some kind of interest their child’s

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    123 metal practices or at least being accepting of metal preferences. Not only were these parents largely accepting of ‘all things metal’, but they were also mostly happy for their child to practise playing metal music at home, not a small consideration for any parents of metal offspring! Further common to this group was their increasing involvement in metal community life; particularly, the relevant local communities specific to their preferred subgenres (e.g., black metal networks, thrash metal communities and deathcore communities). Seven of the 12 participants in Group 1 were regularly playing (or had played) live shows within their local scenes and had professional recordings of their original music and, as we saw in Chapter 5, three participants had travelled internationally for metal-related activities (two had played tours overseas). Of the five not playing live, two were participating in metal community life in other roles. The other three, not playing live, were not regularly participating in local metal communities. However, they did receive direct family support for their other life plans (explored in Chapter 7).

Case Study – Alex When I first met Alex at age 20, he had been out of school for two years. After completing Year 12 and leaving school, Alex took a gap year with his parents’ approval and worked ‘pretty much full-time as a trolley boy’ at a local supermarket (rounding up the disused shopping carts in the car park). He had no idea what he wanted to do for work (or study) post-school, so he had not set any plans in place while he was still at school: Dad wanted me to do a trade, but I didn’t really know, I guess electrician was what I was steering towards cos I did work experience with an electrician, but I didn’t like it so I didn’t do any trade stuff in year 12, I did more art stuff, English, more expressive stuff, it had to keep me interested, so I did things a bit more my own way. After school I took a year off and pretty much worked full-time as a trolley boy, I had no plan to plough into further education, I just wanted to take a year off to see what I wanted to do. My folks were okay with it, it was a huge year, I got my license, it was more life skills I built up that year, but metal was always there, always what I enjoyed most. Sometimes I felt like I was going in circles and people were thinking “Oh yeah, the kid that likes metal is a trolley boy”, whatever … Despite not having a vocational pathway in place at that time, Alex did have clear aspirations in terms of establishing his band in the local metal scene. While working at the supermarket, Alex devoted much of his time to writing music, developing his band’s profile, playing live shows, recording, networking and ‘learning the ropes’ in the area of live music promotion – all activities that Alex deemed to be ‘important life skills’.

124    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I asked him whether he was applying himself to all of these pursuits with a view to forging a career in the music industry or whether he viewed his musical interests more of a hobby or leisure pursuit: I’m probably in the middle, I’ve talked to a lot of people about this, breaking through the Australian scene is bloody hard as a metal artist. It doesn’t mean you should give up trying but you’ve gotta be original. I go out there to have fun, but I’m always professional, I’m the organiser and I take it seriously to put on a good show and make good music, but deep down I know it’s gonna be hard to break through … In an earlier quote (Chapter 5), we heard Alex passionately state his dream to ‘play on a huge stage in a stadium with a wall full of amps’. But here we see him make a pragmatic shift from the dream of stardom to a realistic plan of ‘putting on a good show and making good music’ in the local metal scene and seeing what might happen. However, while working at the supermarket during his ‘gap’ year, non-metal career ideas also began opening up for Alex. He explained that there were two major supermarket chains in his local community, and that the trolley boys at one chain were limited to trolley collection work in the car park; whereas, the trolley boy position at the chain he worked for included rotational duties at the service desk. Two significant events occurred for Alex while working at the supermarket (in terms of developing broader vocational aspirations). First, he stated that the young men who worked for the opposition chain were ‘more like street kids’, and that over time he developed an affinity for discussing their life circumstances with them. He felt that they would seek out conversations with him in the car parks during breaks or after work, and he was able to have a positive influence on their decision making on a range of personal matters. Second, a Flexible Learning Options1 (FLO) teacher from a local community-learning centre was regularly served by Alex at the service desk and started to have conversations with him over time about his longerterm career options. She told Alex that she thought he had a natural ability to talk to young people at work and suggested he look into a career in youth work. Several months later (and now into his second year post-school), Alex began researching youth work courses online and applied for the Certificate IV Youth Work at TAFE. He maintained his casual employment at the supermarket during and post-study to keep drawing a modest income while he considered the next steps in his career planning (and saved up for the trip to Hellfest detailed in Chapter 5). Alex described how the post-gap year was turning out for him: Well I’m a qualified youth worker now, I’ll see how that goes, I’m not really big on planning, I find if I plan something it falls

1

The FLO programme offers second-chance enrolment and curriculum delivery to secondary students who have been expelled or excluded from mainstream schooling. The programme is delivered in community centres.

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    125 through, so just kind of roll with it, maybe go to uni and do social work, go the next level up, I’m quite happy where I am, just wish I could get more than ten hours a week. You’ve gotta have a strong heart for youth work though, that’s for sure. I’d like to go to uni, but I’ll see how this goes first, plus I wanna buy all my cool stuff first, I’m only 21, I’ve got plenty of time. I can’t really walk away from this job now, it’s FLO [Flexible Learning Options] case management and you have to be rock solid for young people doing it tough, as you’d know. But it’s good, I like it, at least the supermarket props the money up so I can stay there til I get more hours … The following year, I caught up with Alex again to see how he was progressing and hear about his plans going forward. Having travelled to France to see Coroner play at Hellfest, Alex told me that he ‘had the bug to travel more’, not only for recreation, but also to play overseas. Because of this, his desire to earn and save had intensified so I asked him what his plans were for funding future travel. He was no longer working at the supermarket, he was working at a school part-time in a case management/youth work role, and he was working part-time in a youth mentoring role in a human service agency. He’d been hoping to secure a full-time position with the agency, but when that didn’t eventuate he chose to invest his spare time in studying a Certificate III in Music at TAFE and just keep saving what he could while still living at home: I’m probably working about 24 hours a week plus going to TAFE now. I always thought about doing this course, a music course, so I was like “Yeah, suss it out, why not?”. I’m doing cert three in music, I was gonna do cert four but my theory’s not that good, to do cert four you have to do notation and I struggle with that. My playing is fine, just the notation. I didn’t do music in school which I really regret now. The TAFE course is just for personal learning, cos I thought to myself, “Well I have the time, do it and see where it goes.” Next year I’m considering either going to do social work at uni or possibly doing a cert four, that’s another option, but I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet. You know what I really wanna do? Like at the moment, do youth work and maybe teach bass as well together. Like basic bass teaching, running a program at a school, teach little kids. I’d really enjoy that, but I need to learn more theory. It’s so cool watching newbies, seeing their faces light up a big smile when they’re into it and they learn something … Both of the potential careers Alex described – social work and teaching music in conjunction with youth work – had arisen out of his first-hand exposure to these careers (the first time we met, he had a lot of questions for me as a youth worker with a social work qualification). He also shows his self-talk in action when talking things over internally to arrive at a decision. While he felt suited to both ideas, the time constraints of studying for a social work degree at university

126    Heavy Metal Youth Identities was factoring into his decision making given that he had strong metal career aspirations in place: It’ll be way harder if I go to uni [making music], I wanna tour and release some stuff, there’s three albums between my two bands in the works now. The EP is close, we just have to tweak a few things. It’s a tough one to make choices between an album and a career and music. I think you have to go with your heart. I mean it’s good to go with your head sometimes, the more logical choice, but at the end of the day, what’s work man? It’s just money. It’s good to have that, but you gotta go with your dream as well, you gotta find that happy medium. My boss is super cool, she gets it, she’s like “Oh you want an extra week off, that’s fine”. Well she saves money in the program anyway, but she’s really flexible about letting me go off and tour. It’d be tough to tour and stuff if you’re in a job where they’re stricter about having time off … Alex was acutely aware of how fortunate he was to have a boss who would give him time off to tour with his band. He was also mindful of the support he received at home and acknowledged how much easier it was to make choices with personal meaning when living at home with very few bills and expenses, other than purchasing musical equipment and maintaining a car: Living at home makes a big difference too. Financially it’s a lot better off at home. I thought about moving out as well, but mum and dad are really cool, they haven’t really complained about anything I do. Vocal practice, screaming my head off, they’re totally fine with it, they never say shut up, it’s cool. They’re always really friendly. Yeah, it’s a lot easier to follow your dreams living at home, for sure … At our next meeting, Alex told me he’d travelled to the United States and ‘paid his respect at Dime’s grave’ as well as going to ‘a bunch of local shows’. He had also played a tour of South-East Asia with his band to coincide with the release of their first independently recorded album. He completed his studies at TAFE and kept working as a FLO case manager in the public school system while he planned the next phase of his musical career – a tour of New Zealand and another album. The next time I caught up with Alex at one of his shows, he told me he’d moved out of home and was sharing rental accommodation (with other metalheads) ‘to keep the rent down’. He was working part-time still, but he’d gone cold on the idea of social work and had enrolled at university to become a teacher instead. He told me that studying at university would allow him the freedom to keep touring and recording because he could submit work online as needed. However, it would also generate a qualification that he could use throughout his life in a field he enjoyed, and hopefully marry up the idea of teaching music somewhere down the track, but in school settings, not private tuition.

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    127 In the five years I spent interviewing and catching up with Alex, he had transitioned from being a trolley boy with dreams of travelling and making a record to a university student studying teaching who had travelled internationally to Europe, South-East Asia and the United States, released three records (plus one with a side-project) and played multiple tours overseas (I was at his band’s very first gig, which really brings his fullness of his achievements into focus for me). The last time we spoke, I asked Alex how satisfied he was with how things were coming together for him. He paused, smiled, ‘raised horns’ and said ‘fuck yeah man, life’s good’. As a case study, Alex’s narrative shows how developmental transitions occur over time. As the narrative plot of his story unfolds, we can see the importance of numerous factors coming together: family support, secure accommodation, a gap year to build life skills, subsidised food and utilities, engagement in metal community life, networking, being encouraged and validated by others, taking in new information, assessing options, making adjustments, road-testing ideas and making further revisions as required to ensure that his preferred outcomes were on track. Self-talk by Group 1 participants tended to reflect honest appraisals of their circumstances, thinking through a range of options, assessing the desirability and ‘do-ability’ of options and mapping out ways to achieve their dreams. For Alex, and indeed for most Group 1 participants, the importance of both domestic and community supports for developing and achieving aspirations of choice was clear. Opportunities to see, discuss and test out different ideas provided knowledge and experiences that were vital for shaping decisions as participants made their way through the first five years of life after school. However, as we will see next, a lack of such opportunities, and family support, limited other participants’ aspiration work and life possibilities, in some cases, severely.

6.3 Group 2 – Default Pathways In stark contrast to Group 1, Group 2 participants, in the main, did not receive reliable or meaningful support in their family environments. Seven of the 13 participants in this group were living with a parent. However, all but one were under pressure to move out for a host of reasons. Four participants were boarding with a sibling in arrangements they regarded as temporary (except for Luke who felt no pressure to move out), one was couch surfing and had no fixed address, and one was struggling to afford private rental accommodation on his own. Regardless of their living arrangements, 12 out of 13 participants in Group 2 were feeling the financial pressure of accommodation costs: their self-talk about what might be possible was clearly being shaped by a financial imperative geared towards day-to-day survival and/or independent living. Interestingly, like Group 1 participants, Group 2 participants also grew up in a range of ‘poorer’-to-wealthier areas. A lack of parental/family resources sometimes came to bear on Group 2 participants’ circumstances, but not always. In some cases, there were other domestic factors prompting a need to move out of home (to be explored further). I emphasise here that (metal) musical talent, skill and ability were not the dividing factors across these groups. Both groups displayed similar levels of talent.

128    Heavy Metal Youth Identities If anything, on aggregate Group 2 displayed higher-level musical ability (an opinion drawn from my lived experience of metal appreciation, and having heard all of the musicians in the sample play, whether at live shows or in their homes). However, what was markedly different between the groups was the community-level opportunities each group had to display their talents and have them recognised by metal peers. Despite the high-level musical talents and abilities evident in Group 2, only four out of 13 had ever been in a band or played live shows (only one had regularly played live). The others were restricted to playing at home, alone in their bedrooms, and did not have connections or networks with metal peers or metal community life. (The significance of this will be examined more closely.) Group 2 participants also didn’t have the same levels of intangible support from parents as their Group 1 counterparts. Participants in Group 2 received very little encouragement from parents for their metal pursuits (except for one black metaller whose mother had made him a pair of black metal gauntlets to wear at home in his bedroom). Also, the four participants who were living with siblings told me they (the siblings) were ‘working their own shit out’, meaning they didn’t receive encouragement or planning support in these environments either, even though they knew their siblings loved and cared for them. In combination, family dynamics and a lack of community participation had restricted pathway options for this group: for various reasons, they weren’t getting enough encouragement and support at home (if at all); they didn’t have meaningful opportunities to trial ideas and reality check them and they weren’t being exposed to new knowledge of different or more suitable pathways. Instead, this group was mostly relying on more random or default pathways, such as what someone they knew was doing (like tannery work); a position someone they knew told them about (convenience store attendant, factory work and telemarketing): ‘seeing what happens’; doing anything a case-manager directed them to do to remain eligible for income support; and one participant in this group was rigidly fixated on his dream of being a metal musician and would not entertain any alternatives. None of these participants were particularly satisfied with their current circumstances and options; most narrated this as having a profoundly negative impact on their overall wellbeing and happiness. There was a lot of self-talk from this group about accepting that ‘things are fucked up’, ‘all turning to shit’ and ‘having no control over what happens’.

Case Study – Jake When I first met Jake, he had just turned 18 and it had been eight weeks since he completed Year 12 at school. He was hoping to get into a pre-vocational course as a pathway into plumbing, but he was quite vague about how this would occur. He admitted he ‘wasn’t thinking about it too much’ because he was enjoying the break from school and using the time to concentrate his energy on writing and playing music. In addition, he was also learning to use software that would allow him to record music at home and upload it to music-sharing websites. Despite harbouring aspirations to become a recording artist and tour and play live shows, Jake conceded that he ‘wouldn’t make a living out of metal’.

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    129 Therefore, he’d need some other type of job security. He chose plumbing purely for the income and job security and described how he came to this decision: In year ten I started thinking “I can’t see myself sitting at a desk” so I googled apprenticeships and I saw plumbing made the most money, plus the government issued a book about different trades so I looked through that for the most well paid. I did a VET [vocation, education, training] course in year twelve, cert three in construction based plumbing, and from there I got the info for what to do next. To get an apprenticeship I have to do a course in cert four, but I missed the entry for semester one cos I didn’t have my license so I have to wait around for the next intake and apply again in March. I’ll keep working part-time ‘til I get the pre-voc course and hopefully they’ll get me a host employer cos it’s not easy getting an apprenticeship. It’s a shame the intake got messed up but I’ll get in, I’m really looking forward to it. The way I see it is yes, I’m waiting, but I’m taking it easy too because I’ve just completed thirteen years of schooling, and when I’m an apprentice I’ll be earning shit money and leaving at 6.30 am and getting back at 5 pm, so I’m chilling out and concentrating on my music for now … One year after our first interview, Jake still hadn’t commenced the pre-entry TAFE course that he needed for a pathway into plumbing. He was still attributing the hold-up to not having a driver’s license and had decided to ‘go for full-time hours’ in a casual role as a convenience store attendant until he was able to get an apprenticeship. He was still talking about the importance of money a lot; however, his once positive tone regarding his apprenticeship was beginning to wane: I kinda started working full-time since I saw you last, I work at a 24-hour convenience store now, I work nights so I start at midnight and finish at 10.30 in the morning, so that brings in the money. I’ll go to TAFE next year and finally get in to plumbing. I looked and I tried so hard but it’s hard enough to get an apprenticeship as it is, but without a license, forget it. So I needed to get my license and I needed money to buy stuff and pay the rent so I had to get a job. I’ve been paying rent since I got my first job at 14 and a half, which is good, cos it gears you up for the future. When you get money, it’s not yours, there’s always people taking their share, like tax and that sort of shit … Two years after we first met, Jake was still working full-time at the convenience store. At this point, he was even less sure about getting an apprenticeship: I really wanna try and get that trade but it’s so hard, you have to know someone. If you’re coming in fresh you just don’t know what to do, it’s that first step that’s the real hard one, pretty much like with anything really. If I do end up going to TAFE I’ll go back to

130    Heavy Metal Youth Identities seven bucks an hour, man I started way too late, but as you can see, working full-time has bought some nice things at least [we were sitting in Jake’s bedroom, surrounded by guitars and multi-media equipment]. After rent and bills, I mostly save my money. I’ve got pretty much all I need here now, just better versions of it. Like now I’ve got instrument mics and vocal mics, input boxes and gear for mastering. I just thought fuck it, I’m gonna make it by myself, so I bought all of this recording equipment, mics, software and I just record music at home, I’m coming out with some really chunky stuff and I’m working on an album and shit. I love making music, it’s a great release. I’ve had metal it in my blood for at least ten years, I know it’s for the rest of my life, I already know my life’s ambition is the acquisition of guitars, I just love them, I’ve already got five plus one in pieces – metal and guitars, perfect. Hell, I just wanna make music, well kind of in my room, it’s as much as you can get these days, it really is a bitch … There was a clear tension evident to me in Jake’s aspiration biography – at some points, he asserted that ‘you just can’t make a living out of metal’, so he needed a qualification and a secure income to make a life. However, at other times, he used language to describe making music as ‘his life’s ambition’, and said that he was buying all of the necessary equipment so that he could ‘make it by himself’. While Jake had grown increasingly vague about ‘the apprenticeship thing’, the previous quote shows how animated and energised he would become when talking about making music. Nevertheless, he remained certain that a career in music wouldn’t be possible, and described why in considerable detail: If I could, I’d just say “Screw it all, I wanna just get into sound engineering”, I really would like to, but it’s just such a dead field, the only way to make money is to open up a studio, you’d be borrowing 50,000 before you even begin, and I’m not betting fifty thousand on it, if it doesn’t work I’m fucked cos I’ll have to pay it back, plus interest, plus I could get a bad credit rating that could fuck me up for buying a house. As an artist, unless you write some crappy pop song you’ll make no money out of music. Even the big bands like Cannibal Corpse they just break even, enough to keep recording and touring and pay a mortgage, but they’re not making real money. Playing live here is gonna bring in a 100 bucks split between four people, and it ain’t gonna get much better. That goes to show a lot of character and dedication, if you’re willing to do something just for the love of it, then right on, that’s cool man. Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people, I don’t wanna take the risk. I don’t wanna be living like that, I’m very cautious especially if you read the paper like me and see the headlines about the world’s financial crisis and you’re like whoa …

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    131 Jake was very specific about his ideas on financing in the previous quote, so I was keenly interested in what was shaping his self-talk around all of this need for making ‘real money’ and job security. Jake was extremely isolated during his teen years, the reasons for this were threefold. First, he had no extended family growing up; it was only him and his mother until her boyfriend appeared. Second, the area he grew up in was quite isolated and not well serviced by public transport so he became used to spending his ‘down time’ alone in his room playing guitar and video games. Third, his mother had not suggested or encouraged any co-curricular activities (citing their expense), so he’d never been part of a club or community group and hadn’t developed any broader community relationships. Consequently, Jake’s first-hand view of the world was largely filtered through the opinions of his mother and her boyfriend, and the mainstream news media that they drew on as ‘evidence’ to support their ideas. This was especially noticeable in Jake’s attitude to money. He grew up with his mother telling him that they were poor because his father wouldn’t pay child support. Therefore, getting by financially was pretty much a day-to-day proposition; he went to a private school where he was ridiculed for not having the same things as other students (a sense of relative poorness). Then, he transitioned out of school with his mother driving a financial imperative for him to earn money and pay rent. The only adult conversations Jake had about money were with his mother’s boyfriend who presented himself as a financial expert, despite losing significant amounts of money on investments. All of this occurred against the backdrop of the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) that was occurring around the same time Jake was leaving school and thinking about the world of work (his mother’s boyfriend was putting the news headlines around the GFC in front of him on everyday basis, which Jake said was ‘slightly terrifying’). Despite not securing the plumbing apprenticeship he once wanted, Jake repeatedly said that working full-time, albeit in a casual unskilled position, had at least ‘bought some nice things’. He also said that another consolation was that he no longer had to deal with job networks and Centrelink who were ‘continually on your back to get a job and throwing all this paperwork at you so it’s easier to just work’. It was clear that default transitions were a much easier option if one had little-to-no support for mapping out a developmental pathway of choice – other participants also reported that employment services linked to Centrelink treated them as numbers and ‘didn’t care’ as long as they were ‘playing the game’, which was emotionally exhausting for most so they just ‘did whatever they got told to’ (Luke). Jake was acutely aware that he would have to fend for himself sooner rather than later because his mother would eventually move in with her boyfriend. He said that he couldn’t ‘be a moocher forever’. He didn’t feel he could take a risk on ‘maybes’ like a career in music because he’d ‘need a regular income to survive’. Unlike others who could stay at home indefinitely while they travelled and obtained qualifications, Jake’s self-talk was clearly being shaped by an awareness that he could be on his own at any moment. Much of Jake’s thinking was also underpinned by a rather neo-liberal sense of personal responsibility; as we’ve seen in previous chapters, themes of

132    Heavy Metal Youth Identities individualisation ran through Jake’s self-talk on a range of matters. However, here he was talking about forging a career and earning money, and tensions reemerged around what type of career when he talked again about a career in metal: Sometimes it wasn’t the best [growing up] but I learned that if I want something I have to do it by myself. I listened to Corey’s lyrics on Everything [Slipknot song] and I was just like fuck, this dude’s gone through everything the same as me and look at him, he’s in a band, he’s making a bit of money, and I though fuck it, if he can do it, I’m gonna try and do it – and that’s what I love about metal guys, most metal guys have to really work for what they want. It’s not just music, it’s a culture, I’d say metal is a mind set and a whole way of life, it’s a culture of not relying on other people to do your shit, you do it yourself … Just as it had done during his high school years, metal continued to validate (and mediate) Jake’s feelings and strengthen his resolve, but only in an emotional and somewhat therapeutic sense. Note that he was not drawing any kind of practical support from metal peers and community participation. This is important because, in my opinion, Jake was one of (if not) the most talented metal musicians in the entire sample. He had played guitar for me each time I visited him and played me tracks he had written, recorded and mixed by himself at home. However, he wasn’t deploying his skills and abilities outside of his bedroom because he had no networks or options for doing so. Although Jake swung back and forth with ideas about a career playing metal, he tried to keep narratively anchoring himself to the idea of earning money away from music, and was doing his best to construct this as a more legitimate career path than music. Jake’s mother and her boyfriend talked a lot about the importance of money for protecting oneself from the ‘risks’ of modern living – indeed, their advice to Jake consisted of a lot of fear mongering around the global economy, a precarious workforce and insecure accommodation as predictors of a bleak social forecast into the future. Social realities notwithstanding, it’s important to remember that their opinions (and advices) also included a distinct caution against even listening to metal, let alone any sort of career playing metal (or any music at all). Music in general (but especially metal) did not align with their normative values or taste, if they had a radio on in the house it would be tuned into talk-back programmes, never music-oriented programmes. Jake didn’t have any other influences around him at that time. He was locked into what he needed to do, and why, based on a narrow set of adult-normative values and opinions. I’m not suggesting that Jake couldn’t find personal fulfilment and satisfaction from his work in the convenience store, or that metal needed to be anything more than a ‘hobby’ he enjoyed at home. The deeper issue here is that Jake didn’t have domestic or community support to encourage him or help him investigate any options of his choosing that aligned with his interests and skills – a career in music was simply written off without any investigation at all. In stark contrast to Alex’s story, Jake’s narrative highlights how easily default transitions can occur in the absence of family support, community connections

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    133 and opportunities to road test ideas and acquire new knowledge from a range of sources. It seems that broader social factors like an entrenched climate of risk and uncertainty also make default pathways that much more appealing when planning is left to others, or is out of one’s control – default pathways reduce the burden of ‘needing to get it right’, and therefore the risk of failure, for those with little or no support for pathway planning. The following quotes show how a sense of uncertainty can shape self-talk about the pitfalls of planning: I know if you make too many concrete plans, they get distorted along the way and then you just get upset and distraught when they don’t go the way you want. (Phil) As soon as you have an ego, you’re gonna lose something, that’s how I live my life, I try and live as humble as I can and not get ahead of myself with too many plans. If something was to actually go right for me, or how I planned it, I’d be shocked. (Luke) I’m not really big on planning, I find if I plan something it falls through, so just kind of roll with it. (Alex) Phil and Luke were allocated to Group 2 because neither was on track for achieving aspirations of their choosing, both were in the throes of default outcomes. Alex is the interesting inclusion here because he was undertaking a strong developmental pathway of his choosing. However, he still narrated a sense that planning tends to fall through so it ought to be avoided wherever possible. Indeed, there were numerous contradictions within the narratives of participants who could clearly articulate their aspirations (whether they were on track for achieving them or not), yet elsewhere they were similarly dismissive of planning because it creates a burden of expectation that’s unlikely to be met. Essentially, they were pre-empting failure as a means of absolving themselves – failure is just what happens, that’s just how it goes – and for some this meant avoiding making any plans at all.

Me(n)tal Health Youth scholars widely agree that having to navigate so much uncertainty is the hallmark of contemporary youth transitions (Furlong & Cartmel, 2007; Shildrick, Blackman, & MacDonald 2009; White & Wyn, 2008). Henderson, Holland, McGrellis, Sharpe, and Thomson (2007) further point out that all this social uncertainty – and anxiety over decision making in the face of so much uncertainty – has had a tremendous impact on the sharp rise in youth mental health diagnoses in recent times. Therefore, at this point, I want to bring metal squarely back into the picture because it might well function as an important antidote to uncertainty for some. Based on what the metal youth told me, I argue that metal identities can serve as an anchor point for constructing some sense of certainty by fuelling positive

134    Heavy Metal Youth Identities self-talk along the lines of ‘I may not know who I am as a student, employee, apprentice etcetera, but I know who I am as a metalhead’ – offering metal youth at least some mental health respite from the less reliable social conditions and structures of late modernity. Having presented case studies of developmental and default pathways, and thematic trends within them, I now look deeper into two main themes: first, I explore the influence of tangible family support, followed by meaningful participation in metal community life – the latter revealing further evidence of metal as a protective factor for mental health and psychosocial wellbeing.

6.4 Tangible Family Support Historically, parental resources have received a lot of attention in the field of youth studies; there has been a lot of evidence generated around levels of family income and other resources (like social status and networks) correlating with ‘better’ life outcomes for young people growing up in higher-income families. Social inclusion and economic factors play a big part in determining life chances. I witness that on an everyday basis, but so do other types of supports that can sometimes off set economic disadvantage, as we will see in Chapter 7. However, in this section, and even if rather predictable, I still want to highlight tangible family support for metal youth because I can’t find any previous studies on parental support for subcultural youth – tangible or intangible. All I can find are some studies that have investigated parents as a protective factor for negative behaviours assumed to be prevalent in subcultural activities, like substance (mis)use and delinquency (e.g., see Bobakova et al., 2012a; Singer, Levine, & Jou, 1993), but nothing around parental support for subcultural practices. I also look at this here because it touches on another question left unanswered for me in Arnett’s (1996) book, namely, how were the parents of Arnett’s participants supporting their child’s pathways, or not?

Parents and Tangible Support We saw in Tables 6.1 and 6.2 that some level of tangible family support was evident for almost all participants – even those who were forced out of their parental home (for various reasons) were mostly able to move in with siblings. They were all mostly getting some kind of tangible support from their families, even if only a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in (although Joey was couch-surfing and didn’t even have that). A bigger difference was that Group 1 participants felt much more secure about being able to live at home or return to the family home if need be. However, 11 out of 13 Group 2 participants were either living out of home, trying to leave home or close to the point of being asked to leave (four of this group were already living with siblings). So, while they nearly all had at least some options for living with family members, there were clear differences between the groups as to who felt more secure (or content) in their living arrangements. No participants in either group were relying solely on their parents for financial support because they were all either working (even if part-time), or drawing some

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    135 type of income support payments (like Youth Allowance). For this age group who had at least some kind of access to an independent income (be it wages or welfare payments), accommodation was the biggest tangible need to source from family. An important point here is that accommodation needs and wants created a financial imperative for most Group 2 participants to look for any type of work; whereas, the more securely housed Group 1 participants were able to invest more time in pursuing non-paid metal-related interests. I say ‘accommodation needs and wants’ because Group 2 circumstances included those who were outright expelled from the family home and couch-surfing, to those who felt on the edge of being asked to leave, to those who felt constrained by conservative parents and wanted the freedom to live their own life. As I mentioned earlier, Joey was in the most precarious position. At 18, he’d been couch-surfing for 18 months and hadn’t been able to finish high school: I’ve been with my girlfriend for 20 months now and we’re trying to see about getting a house, hopefully with some friends who can afford to get a house with us, yeah, rent something and share it between friends, that’d be good. Everyone’s been just trying to get jobs really. I just want a job that can pay a decent amount of money and work up from there, anything I can find that’ll pay good money. I would’ve passed year 12 last year but in the last three years I’ve been getting kicked out a lot and moving around heaps, if it wasn’t for that I definitely would’ve passed year 12 easy, but yeah, I just missed out by that much. I’ve been moving around living at friends’ houses for the last year and a half, definitely tough, especially trying to get a job and stuff when you’ve got no one there trying to help you really. There’s no way I can live at home with mum, she’s got a new partner and I don’t get along with them. I’ve gotta look after my little brother now as well, he’s doing the same things as me, he’s not living with either of our parents, he’s 16 now … In Chapter 1, we saw that metal has been ‘blamed’ for all sorts of poor outcomes, so I asked Joey if he thought his metal preferences had created any tension that made it difficult to live at home. He was certain that metal had ‘nothing to do with it’. He explained that his mother had ‘issues’ and that she always chose men who were abusive and violent. He also said that he ‘tried to protect his mum heaps of times’ as a younger teen but it ‘always ended bad’ with him being kicked out of the family home. He also pointed out that his younger brother wasn’t into metal, but the same patterns of family violence and being kicked out had repeated for him as well. As another example, Phil wasn’t kicked out in the same fashion as Joey, but he was given an ultimatum by his parents. Phil’s family relocated to the city from their rural home when he was 19. His girlfriend moved with them but she wasn’t getting along with Phil’s mother so he was forced to choose between staying at home or continuing the relationship with his girlfriend. He chose the latter, which

136    Heavy Metal Youth Identities meant he had to move out and start paying rent by himself at age 19. I also asked Phil if he thought his metal preferences caused any tension in his living arrangements. He was confident that the sole reason for the ultimatum was the tension between his mother and his non-metal girlfriend: Basically, my parents told me it was either her get out, or I had to go with her – stupidly I chose to go with her, looking back I probably should’ve told her to hit the road. Yeah, I still rent by myself, I don’t stay here all the time though. I’ve got my new girlfriend around the corner so I spend a lot of time round her place but it’s still tough paying rent alone. I’m not a rich person or anything, I get by, that’s the main thing I suppose. I do sheet metal fabrication, it’s boring as fuck, that’s about all I can say about my job, it’s a job, I rock up, I do some boring shit, then I go home, but it pays the rent, and I live alone, so no one else is gonna pay it. My ultimate goal would be to have the time I need to make my music and do something with it instead of slaving away in a factory. I’m just too fucked when I get home … Phil had been renting by himself for five years and his parents had since moved away again. In any case, Phil said a return to the family home wasn’t possible because his relationship with his mother had been damaged by the situation with his ex-girlfriend. Phil might not have made it as a metal musician anyway, but we can see that not being able to live at home had forced a need to take up full-time factory work, which certainly wasn’t helping his musical aspirations. He wasn’t able to take any time off to tour and do regional shows to increase his profile either; something that others found important for establishing their musical careers. Phil and Joey had been abruptly evicted from their family homes, but Jake felt he was being ‘squeezed out’ (as did several others). We saw Jake shut down on the idea of a music-related career because he knew he would need a regular income to look after himself – he felt like he was being pushed out of the family home and sensed it was inevitable. However, for some, their tenuous circumstances rested more on feeling that they had to leave home so they could start to live their own life on their own terms. Those in this category felt that their conservative parents were constraining them, and some wanted to conduct intimate relationships on adult terms away from their parents: I just wanna get my life started, I wanna move in with my boyfriend, I can’t move in with Centrelink money, I’m 23 next year and I still live at home, I dunno, I just think it’s time to start living properly … (Deena) For Deena, starting to ‘live properly’ meant living as a couple with her boyfriend and getting a job, any job, was the path she saw to achieving this. Driven by a desire to leave the family home and set up her own domestic arrangement, Deena wouldn’t entertain the idea of further study or training lest it should

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    137 hold her plans up. Having a baby, on the other hand, was beginning to present as a palatable default transition out of the family home and into State-funded motherhood. Mark also desperately wanted to leave home. He had completed a sound engineering course post-school and was employed part-time at a metal nightclub. He loved the work, but he couldn’t get enough hours at the club to fund leaving home: I try to see a five-year plan, and I know what I wanna do, but I don’t have a decent plan, eventually I’ll figure it out. I might have to head interstate in a few years just to get work sound engineering. At the moment, I’m actually looking at another job just to get more hours, but if I do that I might suffer if I can’t do as much mixing, so it’s kind of a double-edged thing. The best week I’ve ever had at the club is $400 for 20 hours, but my friend works at a tannery and a bad week is $600, for me, a bad week is $200. At the moment, it’s like I need the money to move out and that kind of stuff. I love mixing, but I can’t get enough hours in Adelaide. The tannery work sounds hot, stinky, and meh, but I could finally move out at least. Like my house isn’t horrible, but I just wanna get out and start living a life, not with a parent watching everything I do … Mark’s decision making over whether to take labouring work to pay for rent resonates with Phil’s circumstances. If Mark were to take this option, he might also find himself trapped in a cycle of needing to work in unskilled labour roles to pay the rent, and miss out on furthering his career as a sound engineer in the process. Mark and Deena’s circumstances (in relation to parental resourcing) were nuanced in that support was conditional based on parental norms – the ‘not under my roof’ phenomenon also applied to David playing drums in his mother’s home (disallowed by her boyfriend), and Jeff not being able to wear metal shirts in the family home (disallowed by his step-mother); both of whom were also seeking alternate accommodation to start living an authentic life of their choosing. As it stands, we can’t know how a decision to go and work in the tannery might have panned out for Mark, but we do know that others were able to stay at home long enough and could draw enough income to save for a deposit to purchase their own home and bypass the cycle of renting. We saw how this was possible for Zack, but Mason’s parents also encouraged him to stay at home long enough to save a deposit and make use of the First Home Owner’s Grant (before it was abolished). It was interesting that neither Zack nor Mason grew up in wealthy families. In fact, they both grew up in relative areas of disadvantage characterised by South Australia’s highest metropolitan-unemployment levels, lowest median family income levels and deepest cycles of intergenerational welfare dependency. I visited both of them in the homes they had purchased; both dwellings were modest and located in low-income neighbourhoods. Yet, both of these young men rightfully viewed their purchases as successfully securing a place in the property market that would accrue equity for ‘trading up’ in the future. Their ability to stay in the family home and receive in-kind parental support (like utilities,

138    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Internet and food) had shaped not only their ability to purchase homes, but also their study paths that ultimately led to satisfying music-related careers for both of them. Alex and Stevo were not purchasing homes, but they were both clear that the ongoing option to live at home with their parents had a profound impact on their ability to travel, study, tour and play music. We have already heard Alex sum this up as being ‘a lot easier to follow your dreams living at home’. In saying this, he succinctly captures what youth studies has long known – that young people fare better in secure accommodation with reliable, supportive parents (Holland, Reynolds, & Weller, 2007; Irwin, 2009; MacDonald & Marsh, 2004; Poole, 2005; Rowe & Savelsberg, 2010; White & Wyn, 2008). Therefore, besides the uniqueness of these young people’s stories, this is not new information for the field of youth studies at large. Accordingly, I have not gone into detail with these summaries – but I do raise this here because, as I said, and to the best of my knowledge, parental support for subcultural youth and their activities hasn’t been discussed by other authors. In their study of musical consumption and teenage lifestyles, Tanner, Asbridge, and Wortley (2008) deployed measures of parental employment and parental educational attainment. However, this didn’t tell us anything about the actual resources and supports that parents did or didn’t provide for their metal offspring. In fact, if I had grouped participants here based on parental employment and educational attainment, the groupings would have looked much different and would not have revealed the complex and dynamic family interactions that ultimately had a much bigger impact on their pathways. In the end, while the importance of family support was rather predictable, I was more surprised to find out some of the positive ways in which metal community life shaped or contributed to developmental pathways.

6.5 Metal Community Life While the very idea of participating in metal community life might sound ominous to non-metal people (especially for those who only have a negative frame of reference for imagining what might go on in the metal subculture), the reality here is that these were ‘ordinary’ young people with an extraordinary passion for metal music and culture to the degree that it motivated and inspired them to want to play, record, produce, market and promote metal music. What we learn in this section is that meaningful participation in metal community life provided opportunities to learn, road test and fine tune these ‘heavy metal dreams’ among like-minded peers; and importantly, participants were able to ground their aspirations in realistic and achievable pathways with satisfying outcomes, which for some meant re-adjusting or re-prioritising along the way. The protective factors and benefits of community life in general have been thoroughly researched and reported on – it is widely accepted that a sense of belonging and acceptance by community is a strong protective factor for one’s mental health and wellbeing (Bond et al., 2007; Morgan, Hayes, Williamson, & Ford, 2007; Rowe, 2016; Townley, Kloos, Green, & Franco, 2011). Hence, the

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    139 fact that young metalheads reported the same positive benefits from a sense of belonging to metal community is not new information here and doesn’t warrant close attention. What does generate fresh information here are the positive influences of metal community life on young people’s aspirations, especially against the backdrop of generalising claims that metalheads are constructing bleak or unenthusiastic visions for the future (Roe, 1992; Tanner et al., 2008).

Status and Confidence In Part 1 of this book, the metal youth told us how empowering it felt to form and embody metal identities during high school years. Deploying metal identities at school was a powerful experience that could signal alternate belonging and repel social threats; however, this didn’t improve popularity among non-metal peers at school. Rather, for many, retreating into a metal identity tended to further isolate them from mainstream peers – which was generally the desired result of embodying a ‘scary’ metal persona, or as Tim put it much better, ‘kinda like, I’m into metal, fuck off’. I raise this idea of youth popularity because we know how important it is to be recognised and respected within strong peer networks for developing confidence and self-worth. In her study of school to work transitions in Norway, Sletten (2011) found numerous positive long-term effects of being popular at school, even for young people engaged in ‘risky’ behaviour and friendships. Her longitudinal results showed that popularity in adolescence served to limit financial marginalisation in young adulthood and strengthen employment and education outcomes: The current ‘mainstream’ approaches of studies on school-towork transition pay relatively little attention to adolescents’ peer relationships and focus mainly on how social structures (e.g. social class or family resources), individual attributes (e.g. school attainment and dropout) or area attributes (e.g. school facilities and the local labor market) influence the social reproduction of inequality. When the effects of social relationships are specifically investigated, it is most often children’s relationships to parents or teachers that receive attention. There are, however, strong arguments for considering the role of adolescent peer relationships in transition processes. From a developmental or functionalist perspective on childhood, peer relationships are commonly recognized as particularly important in adolescence and as crucial for the development of social competence and social confidence and for cognitive training. (Sletten, 2011, p. 561) In the previous quote, Sletten is pointing to the importance of social competence, confidence and cognitive training as identity resources that foster empowered transitions. Her focus is on popularity among peers at school, which my participants (as self-reported outsiders) didn’t experience. However, post-school,

140    Heavy Metal Youth Identities participation in metal community life was at least partially able to catch this up for some and mediate the low social status they had experienced or felt vulnerable to at school. Group 1 participants who went on to participate in metal community life reported various constellations of protective and developmental factors that they acquired through metal peer interactions post-school. Things like the ‘everyday stuff’ of having like-minded peers to celebrate and commiserate with; and the longer-term wellbeing factors of support and encouragement for carving out satisfying pathways of choice: I go to heaps [of local shows], I try and go to as many as possible, I love talking to the guys that have been plugging away forever, they’re always really happy to talk about anything and now they’re even asking us to play shows and we’re getting a good following … (Alex) On the other hand, most Group 2 participants remained quite isolated postschool and hadn’t progressed to meeting other metalheads in person (even though listening to metal at home remained vitally important for their wellbeing): I found metal myself, I didn’t have friends into it. The only close friend I’ve got that’s a big metalhead I’m not in contact with. I went to primary school with him, I didn’t know him in high school but I heard later on that he’s metal … (Jeff) In considering what it might be like to be popular, Jake had once told me that: If you’re a popular kid and something bad happens to you you’ve got someone to call and go catch up, there’s someone to hang out with who can make you feel you’re a person again and then you don’t dwell on it. But when you’re on your own and you have a terrible day at school, you come home and just sit there seething thinking “What the fuck am I gonna do?” cos no one’s gonna listen, well they might, but it might not be someone you’re comfortable with … Jake was out of school and no longer had to deal with bullies but he was still pretty much ‘on his own’ and had no one to talk to if he had a ‘terrible day’. As I have said before, Jake was an extremely talented metal guitarist, he could speak for hours on numerous metal topics (as we often did), and he embodied a recognisable metal identity (to other metalheads). Given the opportunity, I suggest the ‘popular kid’ status that Jake spoke of previously might have been entirely possible for him to achieve post-school in metal community life, as it had been for others. Instead, Jake was still relying on the cathartic experience of listening to metal at home to alleviate his frustrations. He told me how much he relied on listening to and playing metal to make him feel good, but listening and playing at

‘Dude, You’re Doing it, You’re Living the Dream’    141 home alone didn’t provide networks or access to like-minded peers that he could call on for practical advice, or just to hang out with on a day-to-day basis: the importance of which he clearly articulated in his previous quote. Next, I explore some of the longer-term wellbeing factors that metal community life can enable.

Road Testing, Reality Checking and Re-Authoring Aspirations for Success I want to build further here on Sletten’s (2011) argument that peer networks can augment employment and education outcomes, as well as other opportunities to build and test knowledge. For those with musical ambitions, participating in metal community life was critical for authoring a realistic sense of what was possible: they were able to test out being a ‘rock star’ in the ‘real’ environment of live music venues and garner a genuine appraisal of their talent (and chance of success) from peers ‘in the know’. This was readily apparent in ways in which metal community life shaped a rather pragmatic ‘hope for the best’ (career playing metal), but ‘plan for the worst’ (satisfying Plan B) type of attitude among Group 1 participants. Despite Group 2 displaying at least the same (if not more) musical talent collectively than Group 1, Group 2 participants did not have the same metal community-level opportunities as Group 1. They were largely writing and recording music at home and their dreams of stardom were stuck at the point of imagining what might be possible (and they were far more likely to be locked into the ‘rock star or nothing’ mind-set that Arnett was worried about). Uploading homerecorded music onto music-sharing websites did not guarantee that online comments would come from peers in ‘the know’ (online comments could be made by anyone), and it did not provide critical feedback on live performances that are a key feature of metal culture. Alex gave a clear example of how becoming entrenched in metal community life had helped his long-term outlook. He was able to get feedback and advice from trusted metal mentors ‘in the know’ which on one hand consolidated his musical ambitions (because they praised his talents), but it also grounded his ideas in the reality that he would also need to choose a stable career path in order to live a good life. He was able to see local metal musicians getting real satisfaction from playing local shows as well as ‘working day jobs’. For Alex (and others), being able to road test ideas among like-minded peers was a critical step for grounding aspirations, discovering skills and strengths, expanding career ideas, or finding out that particular jobs weren’t a good fit and shouldn’t be pursued. Rowan-Kenyon, Perna, and Swan (2011) have argued the importance of opportunities to test drive careers in the school context (like work experience placements). But here we see that metal community life was able to catch this up for young people who might have missed this critical step at school and, crucially, it provided specific opportunities that were relevant to young people’s interests and skills. Two things stand out here. First, the findings challenge assumptions that metal preferences and participation in metal community life might be dangerous or undesirable, and may serve to demotivate aspirations. On the contrary, metal

142    Heavy Metal Youth Identities community life was highly motivating in numerous positive ways as witnessed by the international travel plans we have seen, inspiring further study in musicrelated industries, and the clear motivation towards achieving musical excellence and opportunities to play live (building confidence, skills and networks along the way). Further, we can see the tremendous importance of subcultural mentors in young people’s lives – mentors with applicable knowledge relevant to a young person’s interests. The results here also begin to address Bottrell’s (2007) question of whether chosen identity formations (in this case, metal), while empowering in some respects, might actually further isolate young people from broader networking opportunities and capital acquisition. It was plausible to think that participants engaged in metal community life might shut themselves off from broader community participation; yet, we can see that Group 1 participants who were engaged in metal community life were also engaging more with education, training and employment opportunities (whether inspired by metal or not) than their Group 2 counterparts. It was clear that the identity resources enhanced by metal community life (like confidence and self-belief) were transferable across other domains of life. Throughout this chapter, we have seen some of the ways in which supports and opportunities combined to foster strong, developmental pathways that some were happy with. While for others, a lack of opportunities and support left them feeling rather ‘meh, whatever’ about falling into default pathways not of their choosing. Next, and through further case study analysis, we get valuable insight into ways in which adults can pro-actively mediate some of the roadblocks to planning that metal youth might encounter at school, at home, or in the broader community, by learning to harness the power of intangible resources and supports.

Chapter 7

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’: Practical Wisdom for Parents and Others This chapter offers a practical guide for parents, mentors, educators, practitioners and others who might find themselves interacting with metal youth, or subcultural youth more broadly. This is not a ‘how-to-understand-and-acceptmetal’ guide: those inside the metal subculture do not want or need metal to be understood and accepted by non-metal people (nor would this be possible given the enormous range of subgenre differences). In addition, I take care here to reiterate the protective factors of maintaining subcultural ‘borders’ for those inside particular subcultures. The aim of this chapter is to serve as a guide for supporting the young metalhead in your life more generally, in terms of celebrating and encouraging their unique skills and interests, and initiating useful conversations, which can help to map out pathways towards enriching career and life experiences. Through case study examples, metal youth themselves will teach us ways to offer practical support and encouragement, which can foster a twoway sense of trust between young people and the adults in their lives. Further, they will show us the good outcomes this can potentially have for subcultural youth of all persuasions.

7.1 What is Intangible Support, and Why is it Important? In Chapter 6, we saw the enduring importance of tangible family support (like access to free food and board) for allowing young people more time and freedom post-school to make informed decisions about their futures. However, we also started to see that family income levels (and therefore, ability to provide tangible supports) weren’t always a strong or reliable predictor of ‘successful’ outcomes. In fact, some of the most ‘successful’ participants came from the least wealthy families, and vice versa. And while some rather predictable factors for ‘success’ were identified (particularly around secure accommodation), these were not the

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 143–164 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181010

144    Heavy Metal Youth Identities same for everyone, suggesting that a deeper examination of family dynamics was needed in order to learn more about some of these variations. From an education standpoint, Faas, Benson, and Kaestle (2012) have argued that parental attitudes can partially mediate the link between family resources and education outcomes, emphasising the critical importance of ‘parental investments of energy and focus that influence the trajectories of youth’ (p. 14). I became interested in applying the idea of ‘parental investments of energy and focus’ beyond education outcomes to aspiration development more broadly. I also wondered if or how the parents of metal youth might invest ‘energy and focus’ in their child’s metal interests. I became increasingly curious in ways family members might provide emotional support and encouragement, and how they might engage with young metalheads’ worldviews, musical ambitions and metal-inspired aspirations, or not. If intangible family support by way of encouragement and the like is so important for young people in general (and we know that it is), how does it play out for metal youth, especially against the backdrop of social negativity surrounding metal preferences?

What Do We Already ‘Know’ about Parents of Metal Youth? Arnett’s (1996) views on parenting and metal youth largely centre on his argument that male participants formed metal preferences as a distraction from feeling alienated in family contexts. He reported that ‘the family ties of many of the boys are tenuous, frayed, damaged or non-existent’ (p. 109) and argued that high divorce rates and re-marriage contribute to diminished parental capacity for exercising authority, even when children engage in things that parents find morally objectionable (like metal) (pp. 102–109). He further speculated that the post-divorce burdens of housework and employment on sole mothers mean that mothers might find it difficult to consistently summon the time and energy involved in parenting an adolescent boy (p. 102) – meaning that mothers might lack time and energy to provide ‘better’ and less ‘morally objectionable’ alternatives than metal, or to exercise authority and enforce compliance on other matters as well as metal preferences. Absent fathers also came under scrutiny for not keeping sons on track: Arnett (1996) proposed that fathers might be hesitant to exercise authority (including squelching metal preferences) because they felt guilty for leaving the family (p. 102). Arnett said it was ‘clear that metalheads’ experience in their families tends to be unhappier, compared to other boys’, and that ‘many of the metalheads do not feel comfortable or welcome at home’ (p. 104). Yet, elsewhere, he reported that many participants saw their parents as ‘friends, confidants, and near-equals’ (p. 100). When his respondents described their parents as ‘best friends’, ‘down-to-our-level’, ‘good friends you can talk to’ and ‘intelligent and mature about everything’ (non-disapproving), Arnett saw this as further cause for macro-level concern in the context of shifting social dynamics towards individualisation, and symptomatic of other micro-level problems, like school failure:

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    145 …the family environment many of the metalheads grew up in was characterized by a minimum of restraint, because of the parents’ beliefs that they should encourage the free expression of their child’s inclinations to the greatest extent possible. One possible interpretation of the metalheads’ frustration with the restrictive classroom environment is that they did not learn impulse control and self-restraint (that is, self-regulation) well enough in their family experience. (Arnett, 1996, p. 121) Arnett had covered all bases by arguing that alienation in the family was a problem for metal youth, but so too was being too ‘chummy’ with parents – either way, the tone was clear, if your kid turns out to be a metalhead, you must have done something wrong, right? On one hand, Arnett felt that divorced parents might lose parental authority over their children (and not be able to stamp out metal preferences). On the other hand, he was concerned that parents who encouraged free expression (including metal) were being detrimental to their child’s development. Much of Arnett’s argumentation here rests on speculation (about parenting attitudes) and assumptions (that metal runs counter to positive developmental outcomes) – so I felt it was important to look much deeper into this to find out if any parents of metal youth might just ‘get it right’, and if so, to see what we could learn from them. The practical significance of all this was to identify ways in which family dynamics can shape a sense of purpose, self-worth, resilience, confidence and trust in a young person’s decision making outside of adult-centric norms. We know that the identity resources built from trust and purpose are vitally important for youth development more broadly, but we don’t know how this can figure into pathway development for metal youth (and subcultural youth more generally).

Parental Attitudes to Metal in the Present Study I asked participants to tell me how their parents reacted when they started forming a metal identity, and how their parents felt about metal music and culture overall. For the vast majority, metal was not reported as an issue for parents: Mum’s got no issues with me being into metal, yeah she’s cool … (Aaron) I’ve had a really good upbringing, I haven’t had any trouble with family or anything. Some people stereotype metal music and people as trouble and all that. I’ve never been like that … (Chloe) My dad’s alright though, he doesn’t really get into anything I listen to but he’s fine with it, he’s just yeah, whatever. People are like “Oh, did you have a bad childhood or something?” I say no, I had a great childhood, now I listen to good music! (Deena) They’re pretty cool about it, sometimes they might say they don’t want me to wear a metal shirt somewhere or ask me to take my

146    Heavy Metal Youth Identities piercings out, but they’re pretty cool about my music even though they don’t understand it … (Jon) Everyone always thinks oh I listen to metal cos my parents hate each other blah blah blah – well my parents are fine. I just like metal because I can’t deal with the shit of other people around me … (Mark) My mum doesn’t get it. Even my dad asked when I started the new band “Are you still doing that head banging stuff ”? But they’re pretty chill, they’re cool with it … (Alex) Stating that parents were ‘cool’ (or mostly cool) with metal preferences and activities was a very common theme among participants. Very few parents had outright objections, but a notable exception was Jake’s mother who deemed it ‘the devil’s music’ and did not want to hear it coming from his room. Some other parents made suggestions for their sons to cut their hair to improve their chances of finding work. But in the main, parents were generally regarded as ‘cool’ or ‘chilled’. The fact that so many participants reported their parents being ‘cool’ with metal doesn’t suggest any great level of parent-child estrangement (even though there certainly were family tensions for some). It also doesn’t explain the variations in outcomes, so I needed to look deeper into family dynamics to see exactly what the ‘currency of parents being cool’ was worth to young people, and whether this was to the detriment of youth transitions and pathway development, as Arnett thought to be the case.

7.2 How I Approached this: Parenting Typology Explained When setting out to explore the idea of parents ‘being cool’ (or not), I went looking for ways to frame an analysis of parenting approaches that was most useful in relation to the metal youth I spoke to. I waded through the dominant parenting paradigms that tend to adopt either a psychological focus on parenting styles (predominantly in four categories of authoritative, authoritarian, permissive or neglectful); or sociological foci on resourcing factors like family income, parental education and earning capacity, familial habitus, and social capital. During my literature search, I came across a study by Jones, O’Sullivan, and Rouse (2006) that began to resonate with questions I had about parenting metal youth. In their investigation of parental responses to their child’s early romantic relationship formations, the authors found key differences in parenting approaches: Some parents were inflexible and resistant to social change, constructing the parenting they had received when they were young as the traditional and right way to do things. This suggests that, in contrast to Gidden’s (1992) view, some parenting is still of the authoritarian type which uses dogmatic assertion as a means of transmitting traditional ideology. In these families, there was more

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    147 likely to be generational conflict over values. Other parents operated in a more flexible way, trying to accommodate social change and respond to need, rather than drawing on habit and precedent. In these families, there was discussion and negotiation, and even scope for developing cooperative strategy. (Jones, 2009, p. 157) The parenting frame Jones, O’Sullivan, & Rouse (2006) employed in their study was ultimately based on the following three dominant parenting responses: 1. Non-adaptive – normative values and fixed ideas based on parents’ own upbringing: attempting to impose these ideas on young adult children. 2. Reactive – parents may have to resist their initial impulses in order to preserve the parent–child relationship: crisis control mode, indications of keeping the peace. 3. Adaptive – parents learning to adapt their beliefs over time through interaction with their children: empowerment rather than crisis control approach. Jones et al.’s (2006) spotlight on relational aspects of parenting made me curious about reflexive approaches to parenting metal youth. I ‘tested’ their parenting frame across my datasets and found that my participants’ narratives of parental relations could be seen occurring across the three categories outlined previously. However, I identified a crucial variation to the ‘adaptive’ category that became critical for explaining some of the most successful outcomes and, as a result, became a core principle of the guides for practice offered later in this chapter – that being a category of active-adaptation. Drawing on Jones et al.’s (2006) typology, I grouped participants by the parenting approaches most commonly observable in their narratives. I have added one extra category: that of no parenting. While one case was natural because Luke’s parents had both passed away, two others had no engagement from their parents at all which did not occur in Jones et al.’s sample. I also show a final column to remind the reader which participants were allocated to Group 1, developmental pathways, and Group 2, default pathways, because this becomes an important part of the parenting analysis to follow. Significantly, Table 7.1 shows a clear pattern of Group 1 participants having more adaptive-type parents; whereas, Group 2 participants tended to have parents displaying either non-adaptive or reactive-parenting approaches. I now provide case study examples to illustrate these themes, and some of the interesting twists within them.

Non-Adaptive Parenting Jon’s story gives a clear example of how non-adaptive parenting responses can limit or outright block a young person’s aspirations of choice. Jon’s parents wanted the best for their son, but they both approached ‘what was best’ from their own normative values and expectations around education and formal qualifications:

148    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Both my parents are teachers. They tried to help me, in the end they were the ones who sat me down and said “You have to do this essay, I’ll start it for you, just do it”. At the end of year twelve it was like “I don’t give a shit, just fail me”, there was so much to do and so much stress. They’re worried now about what I’m gonna do, they’re like “Just get into any course, anything”. Jon told me about his lifelong struggles with sitting still and paying attention in a classroom setting. Like the other drummers I interviewed (and indeed most of the metal drummers I know outside the research), Jon was constantly Table 7.1: Participants Grouped by Dominant Parenting Approaches. Participant

Non-Adaptive

Reactive

Adaptive

No Parenting

Group

Jon

ü

 

 

 

1

Jake

ü

 

 

 

2

David

ü

 

 

 

2

Bryant

ü

 

 

 

2

Phil

ü

 

 

 

2

Jeff

ü

 

 

 

2

Serge

 

 

 

2

Tim

ü  

ü

 

 

2

Drew

 

ü

 

 

1

Darrell

 

ü

 

 

1

Mark

 

ü

 

 

2

Jordan

 

ü

 

 

2

Deena

 

ü

 

 

2

Jason

 

 

 

1

Alex

 

ü  

ü

 

1

Stevo

 

 

ü

 

1

Zack

 

 

ü

 

1

Mason

 

 

ü

 

1

Aaron

 

 

ü

 

1

Robbie

 

 

ü

 

1

Glen

 

 

ü

 

1

Chloe

 

 

 

1

Luke

 

 

ü  

ü

2

Danielle

 

 

 

ü

2

Joey

 

 

 

ü

2

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    149 tapping his feet and hands during our conversations. However, while he was showing me his art or playing me songs on his iPod, he became much more still and focussed. At age 18, Jon had a strong self-awareness that he was much better off ‘learning by doing’ rather than listening to someone in a classroom. He said that he was ‘smart enough’ but just ‘zoned out’ when people started talking, yet he could focus on the smallest of practical details in art projects or playing the drums for hours on end. He wanted to please his parents, but for them that meant formal study and they weren’t interested in exploring any alternate pathways with their son. Jon said that ‘he knew’ he needed to study and go back to school (reflecting his parents’ wishes). However, when he talked about things he liked and felt good at, all of his conversations led back to enjoying the practical elements of art and music rather than theory or study aspects. His pathway into art had started from drawing band logos and then designing T-shirt and album art for local metal bands in return for getting gigs for his own band: No kidding I’d like to have a future, I don’t wanna be a little dole bludger or whatever, I’d like to go back to school, I just wanna work out what. If I could completely get into something and see the reason why I’m learning something then I could throw myself into it instead of always being like “Oh, I can’t be bothered with this essay”, you don’t see the bigger picture of where it’s gonna lead and all that and you just don’t care … Without any real understanding of the actual jobs a study path would lead to, Jon struggled to make connections to the relevance of what he was supposed to be studying. Sitting still and paying attention was already difficult for him, a task made harder by a lack of interest in the subject matter. In the year following our first interview, Jon commenced night classes in a tertiary bridging course as a pathway to admission into a Bachelor of Arts programme at university (the bridging course was necessary because Jon didn’t attain a Tertiary Entrance Ranking score at the end of high school). The following year, Jon was accepted and commenced his university studies. However, he withdrew after one semester because once again he couldn’t manage the rigours of study and found it too hard to pay attention: I got to uni and it was all happening again, I couldn’t pay attention, I couldn’t take it in and it made me not like it. That kind of led me to quit, then I was lost again for a while before I started with tattooing. I took my designs in, and I thought it’d be really hard to get an apprenticeship, but they really liked my stuff and took me on and I’ve been here ever since. I never really thought my artwork was up to scratch to do tattooing or anything, but my brother knew a few tattoo artists and said “You know, the bar isn’t really as high as you think it is, if you put in some extra effort with your designs and stuff you’ll be right”. That’s what sort of gave

150    Heavy Metal Youth Identities me the confidence to do it and I haven’t looked back, it’s great. I’m definitely stoked to be getting paid well for a job I love and doing art all day … The tattooing apprenticeship bypassed the requirements of formal study and allowed Jon to launch straight into the practical elements of an art-related career path. Jon was thriving in the practical environment away from the classroom. He looked forward to going to work every day and developing his skills on the job. Last time we spoke, he was almost three years into his apprenticeship and adamant that he was ‘in the right job at last’. Importantly for Jon, tattooing also afforded him the flexibility to take time off to tour and play with his band as needed. Initially, his parents opposed the idea of him becoming a tattoo artist. He felt that was in part because of their Christian background and their negative beliefs about the industry, and because of their teaching background and their concerns that tattooing didn’t involve a recognised qualification. Jon felt they had at least become ‘okay with it now’ because he was ‘finally doing something and making good money’. While Jon was finally on a pathway of choice, Jeff and Serge were not. Both were still living at home with non-adaptive parents who wanted their sons to cut their hair and be ‘respectable’. However, neither set of parents were engaged in talking through pathway plans with their sons: Mum’s heavily religious, she gave up work to have me and never went back, yeah, there’s no metal love there, that’s for sure. Dad’s been a lot of things, butcher, courier, taxi driver, the usual stuff, they didn’t get involved with school stuff and whatever, I had the freedom to just pick whatever. Yeah, I went to TAFE for a while after school, I left with a couple of cert threes but nothing panned out. I wouldn’t say I know where I’m going, I’ve bounced around from a lot of different stuff, mostly looking for something I’d like long term and I don’t entirely think that habit’s gonna stop unless I actually do find something to stop and settle down with, there’s good odds I’ll still be bouncing around from this to that, here and there … (Jeff) When I was looking for work dad would say everyday “Why don’t you just cut your hair?” so I wouldn’t say they’re supportive about metal. I was going to do something with art after school, I did go to uni for one semester but I didn’t like it at all. Since then I’ve been going through jobs rather than looking at careers, I’m happy to keep doing that until I’m thirty, I don’t mind. I’ve been a car park attendant since year eleven, that’s just a job. I’m half expecting to wake up one day and just have the motivation to do like a five year plan and stick to it but at the moment I’m just doing what I’m doing. I still live at home and I don’t mind that, so I’ll play it year by year, no real plan, see what happens … (Serge)

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    151 It was clear that neither Jeff nor Serge had any real plans in place, besides having no plan and seeing ‘what happens’. What they also had in common were parents who didn’t ask about their sons’ interests or talk to them about future pathways. I highlight Jeff and Serge here because both were from quite middleclass families and had gone to private schools, but neither set of parents had invested any encouragement (or even curiosity) in their son’s talents and interests. Indeed, Serge’s father had complained about the money spent on privately educating a son with no career prospects, suggesting that he expected the school to take responsibility for planning his son’s future. In the time I knew him, I learned a lot about Serge’s interests. He had strong skills and knowledge about media and film production. He had interests he was pursuing and learning in his own time; yet, neither of his parents were aware of his skills or knew about the media projects he was producing in his bedroom – he told me they ‘never asked what he was doing in there’. The extent of Serge’s father’s engagement with him (vocationally) was to advise his son to cut his hair and hand him the ‘positions vacant’ section of the newspaper. Jeff and Serge both narrated having ‘the freedom to pick whatever’ and parents ‘letting them do things their way’; yet, neither had picked nor planned a pathway of choice, they were waiting to ‘just see what happens’ in more of a default transitional mind-set.

Reactive Parenting There was also recurring evidence of reactive parenting styles in participant narratives that captured Jones et al.’s (2006) descriptors of ‘keeping the peace’ and, at times, ‘crisis control mode’. These were the parents most often referred to as ‘being cool’ with metal preferences, and tended to be depicted as being ‘good mates’ with their offspring. Participants with parents in this category got along well with their parents. However, their parents’ focus of energy seemed to be more on ‘being cool’ and maintaining the relationship with their child, rather than investing energy in researching and discussing pathway options. A good example of this was Darrell’s father who proudly wore his son’s band T-shirt and funded the equipment for him to build a recording studio at home. However, he didn’t discuss future pathways with his son and didn’t encourage him to think more broadly about career plans in the music industry. Essentially, Darrell’s father was acting as a ‘mate’, or a friend, and wasn’t actively engaged in his son’s future planning. Darrell was allocated to Group 1 on the face value of his pathway to becoming a record producer because he had completed a Certificate III in music at TAFE and had set up a recording studio at home. But he was struggling to find bands to produce; he was only surviving because his father paid for all his living expenses and accommodation and recording equipment. Without this tangible support, Darrell’s preferred pathway was precarious to say the least and, as it stood, his prospects were not improving. Although it made Darrell happy to feel close to his dad, on its own, ‘mateship’ was insufficient for fostering a strong developmental pathway. Darrell’s father might have seemed quite adaptive. However, a lack of genuine empowerment here for Darrell, coupled with

152    Heavy Metal Youth Identities the fact that his father was largely ‘keeping the peace’ and supplying anything he needed, reveals this as being much more of a reactive parenting approach. This was also quite evident for Jordan who reported how much she loved her dad because he accepted anything she wanted: It’s such a good neighbourhood here, parents don’t think anything bad happens so they don’t really keep an eye on us. One good thing about dad, whatever I wanted to do, he’s always accepted it, always. Anything I want, he accepts. I live in a rich neighbourhood, but I’m not rich at all, I’ve had to work my fucking ass off for everything. School didn’t work out for me cos I wanted to be different, I got suspended for having piercings and missed my year ten exams. I left school and went to TAFE and got an apprenticeship in hairdressing plus I was working at a fast food joint. My apprenticeship was $260 a week for a 38-hour week, and I was working around a 20-hour week at the fast food place and getting more than that, so I quit the apprenticeship to become a manager at **** which is a salary so it’s pretty good plus bonuses … (Jordan) I asked Jordan how she arrived at the decision to leave her apprenticeship. She said that it was a ‘no-brainer’ because of the extra money. No adults in her life had talked to her about future earning potential after completing an apprenticeship. She simply told me that her dad was ‘fine with it’ (going fulltime at the fast food restaurant) much like he ‘was fine’ with every other life decision she made by herself, like going to gigs from age 13 in the city and staying out in town all night. Drew’s parents were so ‘cool with it’ that they funded his lifestyle and international tour of Europe. Drew said that he would regularly quit jobs to go on domestic tours within Australia as well; he would ‘come home broke’ each time and had to ask his parents for money. He loved his parents for this and was pleased to have their financial support. However, Drew’s narrative also showed tensions between his musical ambitions and his desire to have a financially secure future. Neither of Drew’s parents had talked to him about future pathways. They had sent him to an elite boarding school and trusted in the education they had paid for; he told me they probably assumed he would ‘work it out eventually’ and that he would realise he’d have to go back to study. As such, assumptions took the place of conversations in Drew’s household. Drew reported that his parents ‘fully supported him’. Yet, the extent of the support was financial and did not include any genuine encouragement or curiosity in the metal-related things, which he was good at. Like Darrell, Drew was also allocated to Group 1 on the face value of his pathway. He had played tours overseas and narrated his sense of achievement; he was talking about returning to study to become a psychologist. However, life for Drew was a day-to-day proposition, which depended on his parents funding his lifestyle; he was not in a position to support himself and had no immediate prospects for doing so. Darrell and Drew were both precariously

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    153 balanced on the edge of default pathways should their parents cease financially supporting them.

Adaptive Parenting Zack’s parents showed evidence of adaptive-style parenting all the way back to high school when he wanted to drop art and switch to music (Chapter 5). They were willing to support and encourage Zack’s career planning provided he was able to justify his ideas, demonstrate commitment to his planning and show periodic results of his achievements (a sort of performance-indicator model). Zack’s parents had been actively engaged in researching and understanding his goals and dreams and by initiating planning conversations with him. Therefore, they could sit down together and map out what he would need to do to achieve his dreams, while still earning a sufficient income to meet his mortgage expenses and living costs. Mason described his parents’ views and involvement in his ‘heavy metal dreams’: They talked to my music teacher at school and we all worked out what I’d need to get into the cert four in music after school. After that they were just happy if I sat on the guitar every night for hours getting good at something I wanted to do… I re-emphasise here that Mason’s parents were not wealthy (neither were Zack’s). They were low-income earners living in Adelaide’s Northern suburbs. Mason was showing early promise with musical ability at primary school; his teachers gave Mason’s parents some information about a private college with a dedicated music programme and state-of-the-art music facilities. Because of their low-income status, Mason’s parents qualified for subsided college tuition fees. They didn’t have to provide the tangible, economic resources for his education. However, what they did do was take turns waking up early and getting multiple public transport transfers with their son to get him to the college until he was proficient in getting himself there and back (while carrying his school bag and guitar) and they were satisfied that he (and his guitar) was safe on his journey. They continually touched base with how he was doing (both with Mason and his teachers) to make sure they were getting all the information they needed in case there was more that could be done for his development as a musician and student of music. They also encouraged him to ‘get straight on the guitar’ after dinner each night and fit any other homework around guitar practice wherever he could. They weren’t particularly interested in music themselves. However, they felt that music ought to be a priority for Mason in order to exploit his talent and capitalise on the subsidised college tuition he was receiving. Zack and Mason show clear examples of how their parents not only adapted to their metal interests, but also how they took this to the next level by actively adapting to their son’s ideas and skill-sets. Their parents weren’t just ‘cool with it’; they actively got involved and were genuinely interested in researching and planning along the way.

154    Heavy Metal Youth Identities No Parenting As stated, three participants had no parental relations at all. Luke’s situation was unique with both parents deceased. He had been on his own with his sister since he was 14-year old. Joey had been couch surfing from about the age of 15 (permanently from age 16) and had since taken on the role of looking after his younger brother who was now doing the same. Danielle’s relationship had broken down with her mother (whom she said ‘had her own shit going on’). She had moved in with her sister who had just had a baby. All three of these participants were living in Adelaide’s Northern suburbs. They were essentially raising themselves or living with siblings who were trying to work their own lives out. All three participants were being case-managed by Job Network providers and they’d all undertaken courses or work placements, which they had no choice in, did not see the point in and had not led to employment outcomes. Despite the deep and enduring social realities surrounding the structuring of opportunities in high-poverty contexts, we cannot know if actively engaged parenting would have made any difference for Luke, Joey and Danielle as it did for other participants growing up in this region, like Zack, Mason and Glen. I can only speculate that it might have, because there is enough evidence here to suggest that active parental engagement can be a critical resource for off-setting limited economic resources when parents are prepared to invest the energy, focus and understanding required to adapt to their child’s metal worldview. It is clear that adaptive-style parenting decisions carry the potential to endow metal youth with a sense of being ‘worth the investment’, which is critical for building self-esteem, self-belief and self-worth, and a clear sense of purpose. Further, the results show that despite good relationships with parents who are ‘cool’, there are marked differences between passively just ‘being cool with things’, and actively adapting to, and engaging with, young people’s metal worldviews – and the young people’s transitions (seen in this research) clearly reflect these differences.

7.3 Parenting Analysis Applied to Siblings In their study of social capital between siblings, Gillies and Lucey (2006) viewed sibling ties as being underpinned by a sense of protection, obligation, support and company. Unpacking this further, their findings were organised around themes of knowledge transfer in terms of who and what siblings know, and the ways in which older siblings can ordain younger siblings into neighbourhood and/ or school social groupings. The authors point out that this can have positive or negative outcomes because ‘brothers and sisters can enable or sabotage their sibling’s attempts to fashion an independent identity’, depending on whether older siblings act as a conduit to the adult world by inviting younger siblings into their worlds, or whether they lock them out (Gillies & Lucey, 2006, p. 489). In terms of identity building resources, the authors found that older siblings could provide: […] a rich source of knowledge about teenage culture in terms of fashion, make-up and hair, books, music and films […] Even where

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    155 the same taste in clothes or music was not shared, sibling relationships allowed alternative styles to be sampled and understood. As such, brothers or sisters could be useful exemplars of what is, or what is not, cool. They could also provide crucial support or guidance on emotional, personal and social issues. (Gillies & Lucey, 2006, pp. 490–491) A few participants in my study were introduced to metal by older siblings. Glen’s older sister had Fear Factory and Pantera records, Alex’s older sister had alternative rock records but her boyfriend had introduced Alex to Slayer and Pantera. Mason’s older brothers had played Iron Maiden records around the house when he was young. However, despite some early introductions to hearing metal through their siblings, it was the metal youth I spoke to who ultimately occupied the primary metal position in their families. Most participants had no sibling connection to metal at all and had found and formed metal preferences by themselves. So, while there is minor evidence here reflecting Gillies and Lucey’s (2006) findings around knowledge transfer between siblings, my datasets are much better placed to pick up where the authors left off in the previous quote in terms of looking at emotional support and encouragement. Siblings are at the forefront of social changes, which parents may be struggling to adapt to (or make adaptive decisions about). For some participants, it was in fact their siblings, not their parents, who were able to provide enough adaptive-style support to make a difference. In contrast, as we will see in the following paragraphs, one sibling displaying non-adaptive responses was having a profoundly negative impact on his younger brother’s aspirations.

Non-Adaptive Siblings In Chapter 5, we saw that David’s aspiration biography (deathcore drummer, no Plan B) was complicated by a desire to please his older brother. Their mother had ‘moved on’ with a new partner and there was no family home to count on for accommodation. David’s brother was renting a house and had taken David in when it became problematic for him to practise drums in his mother’s home with her new partner. David was thriving musically in his preferred deathcore subgenre and his band was steadily gaining national notoriety. However, his elder brother was dismissive of the deathcore scene (because he personally did not like the subgenre ‘or its people’) and was in the process of talking David into joining his own more obscure (and far less popular) band that played a style of post-rock sludge metal. It’s unlikely that David would have found a sustainable career playing sludge metal (remembering that he wanted to make a paid career from playing). However, the popularity of deathcore in mainstream media (at the time of the interviews) was probably a far more viable option for making a living, if either was to be possible for an Australian metal musician at that time. David was adamant that a career as a musician was the only option he would consider in life and, knowing this, the older brother that he looked up to and

156    Heavy Metal Youth Identities counted on was steering him away from his most viable option for achieving it. David’s brother was furthering his own aspirations by trying to secure a highly talented drummer for his own band. He wasn’t prepared to adapt to (or encourage) David’s interests, hopes and dreams. In addition, in the process, he was isolating David from a subgenre (and its community) in which he might have been able to access the support required to achieve his dreams. We also need to remember that David was counting on his older brother for a roof over his head, so there’s a coercive element to the sibling involvement here too that complicates things. How free was David to pursue his own interests if he wanted somewhere to live and be able to practise playing the drums, and still maintain a relationship with his brother as well?

Reactive Siblings Luke’s sister highlights how reactive sibling styles also might not provide effective support for pathway development. Luke and his sister had done it tough to say the least. They shared caring responsibilities for their terminally ill mother as young teens. They were thrust into the adult world of running a home together after her passing when Luke was 14 and his sister was 16. Luke’s sister cared deeply for her brother – she cooked for him, ran the home, paid the bills, worked full-time and was proud to call her younger brother a metalhead. She embraced his metal preferences and aesthetic (she was cool with it), but she didn’t actively engage with his hopes and dreams. In addition, she didn’t drive any conversations around what would be required to make them happen. To be clear, in no way is this a criticism of the care she gave to her younger brother. In fact, she was doing the very best job she knew how, by loving her brother and providing his daily essentials. I emphasise that she was also a teen who had lost her parents and did not have adult support in her own decision making. She was living out her own default transition to the workforce: she had ‘fallen’ into a job where the employer was sympathetic to her situation and had made her position permanent so she had job security, albeit in an unskilled position. The point here is that she was not able to assist Luke in developing a plan to achieve his preferred aspirations. She was ‘cool’ with his metal preferences, but again we see how ‘being cool’ alone is insufficient for a young person’s development. Deeper engagement with a young person’s hopes and dreams is required; questions need to be asked and plans researched.

Adaptive Siblings Jon’s earlier case study highlighted his parents’ non-adaptive approach to steering him towards a tertiary education pathway that he just wasn’t cut out for. However, we also saw that Jon’s brother played a key role in carving out his developmental pathway into tattooing. Clearly, siblings can provide much more than the knowledge transfer and networking capabilities that tend to dominate social capital theory. Indeed, the web of support that Jon’s older brother was able to provide was far more complex.

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    157 The major set of concerns for Jon (in relation to tattooing) consisted of what his parents would think; a lack of self-belief that he’d actually be any good at it; and not even knowing where to start to take the idea further. In response, his brother downplayed the requirements of securing an apprenticeship in tattooing so that Jon would think it was achievable (telling him ‘it’s not as hard as you think man’), and he did this in combination with building Jon’s skills up and telling him how good he was. He also sat down with him to research some information on the industry and make a list of local employers to contact, and made suggestions about improving his art portfolio. And importantly, he assured his younger brother that ‘the folks would get over it’. It was clear that his older brother’s adaptive responses and active engagement in planning played a key role in Jon’s confidence and motivation to ‘go for it’. In addition, as we saw earlier, this had resulted in a good outcome for Jon in a well-paying job, which he loved as it also gave him the flexibility to ‘take off and tour’ with his band as required. As with the parenting responses outlined earlier, the categorisation of sibling responses here also isn’t perfect – but the case studies do show how vitally important siblings can be for bridging the generation gap between parent-child worldviews, and they can effectively signal to their younger siblings that their aspirations are worthwhile and achievable. In contrast, we can also see how unsupportive and non-adaptive sibling responses can negatively shape youth transitions.

Looking Beyond Family Contexts Besides how interesting these family stories are, the bigger point of applying this typology to siblings as well as parents is to show that various people, who young people meet, can apply adaptive-style responses, and the intangible supports they entail. It wasn’t surprising to find that metal mentors were supportive and encouraging in metal community contexts. However, there were also a few schoolteachers who took interest in some of the metal youth and usefully went about exploring post-school options, which hinged on their metal skills and aspirations, with them. Mason’s music teacher at school had gone out of his way to compile a list of metal guitarists who also taught guitar which inspired Mason to do the same post-school: his teacher had been instrumental (pardon the pun) in Mason’s developmental ‘Plan B’ thinking. Although he was trying to get more teaching hours, Mason was at peace with his composite career of writing his own music (non-paid) and paid music-teaching work. He credited his music teacher for helping frame his positive mind-set by making him the list of metal guitarists who teach music: To this day I define myself as a guitarist who teaches guitar, it’s great I can earn money doing what I love like heaps of guitar legends have while I work on my own stuff …

158    Heavy Metal Youth Identities Others were not as fortunate to have a teacher who actively engaged with their own skills and interests. For example, David’s teacher at boarding school had suggested the pharmacy course as a default post-school option. No one at his school suggested or explored any creative pathways with David despite his outstanding musical talent (we earlier saw that Stevo’s teachers had also steered him into a degree based on entry scores, rather than skill-sets and interests, which didn’t work out). The pharmacy course tipped a string of further default options for David; he wasn’t making any ground by himself with any sort of developmental planning. In contrast, Mason’s narrative shows the strong benefits of having a web of active-adaptation and engagement undertaken by multiple people in a young person’s world (and Zack had this too with his music teacher at school in conjunction with switched on parents and metal community support). However, for some, having at least one person in your corner made all the difference, as Jon’s brother had done by mapping out the tattooing apprenticeship and encouraging his younger brother’s talents that their parents had opposed. Now that we’ve seen some of positive outcomes of actively engaging and encouraging metal youth, next I will explore the implications of all this for both parenting and practice approaches with young people.

7.4 Applying Key Learnings in a Practical Frame Key Learnings: What We’ve Learned from the Metal Youth Throughout this book, we’ve learned a lot about the real-life experiences of metal youth and the strong role that metal music and culture played in their daily lives. However, in this section, I want to re-cap specifically on what they’ve taught us about the importance of better understanding and supporting youth pathways that might sit outside the adult-normative ideas around what young people ought to be doing with their lives. First, we have a much greater understanding about the role of subcultural affiliations for withstanding daily pressures and protecting mental health and wellbeing. This is important information because many mental disorders diagnosed later in life actually begin during the youth phase and there are many risk factors for this occurring. However, most carry a central theme of young people having a lack of control in their lives (Patel, Flisher, Hetrick, & McGorry, 2007). So, if forming a chosen subcultural identity during the youth phase is about countering power and uncertainty and regaining control (and we’ve seen that it was), that’s a clear prevention (or early intervention) strategy that we need to tap into and support. If young people (as experts in their own lives) are showing us strategies that work, we need to pay attention and learn from them. Second, we’ve begun to see the importance of metal travelling with teens through to young adulthood. By tracking the role and significance of metal through school and into post-environments, we have clear evidence to counter any lingering assumptions that youth (sub)cultures are simply temporary and/ or insignificant leisure past times engaged during high school years. They might

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    159 be transient for some, but we’ve also seen metal preferences travel with young people into many different domains of social life post-school, with a tremendous capacity for inspiring a range of career and personal aspirations along the way. Third, we’ve seen some of the nuanced but critical ways in which metal practices can foster ‘soft’ skill development. This is significant because in today’s changing workforce employers are tending to place less emphasis on hiring candidates based on technical or ‘hard’ skills, and focussing more on recruiting workers who display greater soft skill-sets like communication, time management, initiative, confidence, motivation, team work, problem solving and organisation skills. Herzlich (2017) cautions this can be a real problem for young job seekers because soft skills ‘are more difficult to teach and learn than hard skills, and our education system has struggled to develop scalable and effective ways to teach them’, meaning that soft skills aren’t always easy to find in young candidates. Finding that subcultural participation can foster or at least augment soft skill development is critical new information here for youth and education sectors. We have seen participation in the metal subculture give rise to a suite of hard and soft skill-sets that proved critical for facilitating strong developmental pathways. Fourth, we’ve seen the continuing importance of tangible resources for strong developmental pathways but we’ve also learned vital new information about the tremendous importance of intangible supports – like encouragement, curiosity and trust – for positively shaping a young person’s self-talk and aspirations and capitalising on skills. Our perceptions of how others view us can profoundly shape our sense of who we are and what we think is possible for us. The critical factor here for achieving pathways of choice was the ability for metal youth to interact with someone who, in the first instance, was prepared to accept and adapt to their metal preferences, but was also prepared to actively get curious, ask questions and help do some research around metal-inspired pathway planning. This information also loops back into the protective factors for mental health because Patel et al. (2007) further argue that consistent and engaged parenting, and learning environments that support unique interests, are critical for developing a sense of purpose and feeling worthwhile. By looking at pathway development in conjunction with broader aspects of mental health, we begin to build a picture of ways in which subculture can positively influence the interrelated spheres of psychosocial wellbeing.

What I’ve Learned from Non-Metal Youth (that the Metal Youth also Reinforced) At its core, the idea of actively adapting to (and working with) a young person’s unique skills and interests is really underpinned by notions of strong and meaningful youth engagement. However, the problem with ‘engagement’ is that business, government and human service organisations have created so much buzz around the term that it has become quite vacuous and easy to manipulate into a rather tokenistic frame.

160    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I work a lot in the youth engagement space. Therefore, at this point, I set aside the focus on metal youth and draw more widely on my research and practice experience in general, because what I’ve come to understand about meaningful youth engagement I’ve learned from a whole lot more than 28 young people. In addition, something I often see negatively influencing post-school planning is an adult breakdown in communicating (engaging) with young people in general, regardless of their musical or lifestyle preferences. A big part of this disconnect starts with adult assumptions about where planning conversations are, or ought to be taking place. For example, one assumption parents make (with good reason) is that schools will initiate and take up career planning conversations with students. Depending on the school (and its resourcing), this might occur. However, for many students, it does not. Very few public schools are able to employ full-time specialist career counsellors. Thus, much of this work falls to teachers (with already heavy workloads) and year-level coordinators. From what young people tell me, getting adequate support at school is also dependent on having a good relationship with at least one special teacher or someone else in the school system who ‘looks out for you’, rather than being equitably accessible by all students. A further set of assumptions – this time made by schools – is that parents will drive planning conversations with their children at home; that parents have the requisite knowledge to navigate pathway planning; and if parents don’t have this knowledge, that they will seek advice. Some parents will indeed be able to take the lead on this but many will not, for various reasons. Parents have told me that they feel overwhelmed or confused by choices and sometimes feel ‘out of their depth’ and some find it belittling to try to make contact with schools for advice. Some parents have had their own ‘bad’ experiences at school and find school environments uncomfortable and/or threatening. Some young people don’t want to talk about it at home, preferring to feed parental assumptions that the school will ‘take care of it’ – again, this can be for any number of reasons. Young people have variously told me they don’t want to talk about it at home due to their parents’ rigid expectations; because their parents don’t understand the choices and get frustrated and because they feel their parents are out of touch with ‘jobs of the future’. In short, schools assume career conversations are being has at home. Parents assume they are being held at school. Young people assume someone will step in and sort it out, because that’s what adults are supposed to do.

How can Subculture Factor into the Requirements of a Changing Workforce? In the past, building a successful career required young people to learn core technical skills for an occupation, and gradually broaden their skills and experience over time […] Today, automation and globalisation have led to a loud and compelling narrative about the future of work, and career paths appear more complicated. Media reports warn, almost daily, that “robots are coming to take your jobs”. Parents, carers and young people read these

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    161 reports with rising concern: what occupations will be around in 2030 that a student today can train for? Today’s 15-year-olds will likely navigate 17 changes in employer across 5 different careers. They will sometimes be self-employed, at other times working with and for others […] while some occupations will no doubt decline or emerge as technology and globalisation advance, too much of the focus has been on which jobs will disappear and which will remain. The truth is, automation is going to impact what we do in every job, in every occupation. It is wrong to assume that only some occupations will be affected while others may be “safe” … These trends will determine the skills young people need to succeed in our future workplaces. Rather than responding to automation by choosing the ‘right’ job, young people need to acquire the ‘right’ skills that allow them to succeed in an automated and globalised workplace. (Foundation for Young Australians, 2017, p. 6) As daunting as this may seem, we need to tackle it head on and support young people at the forefront of these changes. In the youth sector, there is a lot of emphasis on career pathways and post-school planning (and I’ve certainly used these terms a lot throughout this book), but all we really need to focus on is keeping young people engaged in their first career steps because there will likely be many twists and turns that follow. I argue that tapping into what young people like and enjoy is a really useful tool for keeping them motivated and engaged postschool, and staving off demotivating education and training paths that churn young people through endless programmes going nowhere (particularly in high poverty/high unemployment contexts where limited jobs exist). The idea of subculture as a developmental tool for youth transitions needs further investigation, but my findings indicate that it is an idea worth pursuing because there are clear alignments with what subcultural participation can offer in terms of motivation and engagement, and crucially, what it can offer for developing ‘work smart’ skills of the future.

Key Messages for Families The first key message for families here is to not assume that skills and pathways conversations are being held at school. I’ve already said this, but it’s worth saying again. Don’t get me wrong, many schools do provide a lot of information these days by way of career expos, information days and the like. However, this often amounts to what I mean by check-box or tokenistic engagement. One-way provision of information is not meaningful engagement because the responsibility for good outcomes falls squarely on a young person’s ability to take in information, be interested in it, make sense of it, retain it and act on it. However, meaningful engagement would constitute an interactive (and ongoing) youth-adult conversation that unpacks ideas, invites questions, asks the young person to reflect information back, ensures shared meaning and understanding is reached, is able to assess whether the information is even useful or relevant to a young person’s

162    Heavy Metal Youth Identities aspirations and, if it is, can map out ‘where to next’ in a systematic way. It is a big task for schools to undertake this on an individual basis. It is indeed much easier for schools to deliver a career expo and say ‘we engaged students in career planning’. So, what can families do? Well it sounds redundant to say, but families and caregivers can talk to young people and learn to engage them in meaningful ways. (Remembering, the idea of meaningful and effective engagement is being used here to talk specifically about career and skill development, not just getting along with each other at home.) Effectively engaging with subcultural youth in the family environment is going to rest on the following set of factors: 1. 2. 3. 4.

A shift in normative thinking by parents/caregivers. Developing an ability to see stereotypes for what they are. Prioritising your child’s happiness over what others think. Learning to identify and reinforce unique skills and strengths.

I expect some readers might wonder what all the fuss is about here because, arguably, parents are more accepting of youth diversity than ever before. Be that as it may; I’m routinely hearing (from young people) that many parents still hold normative values and expectations, which can cause friction with teens at home. In addition, many parents still buy into stereotypical representations of youth (sub)cultures; many parents do in fact care very much about what others think; and some parents have no idea what their child is good at, or really interested in. Therein lays the challenge. Hopefully parents have already had some light bulb moments elsewhere in this book and recognised where they can set their own likes and dislikes aside and focus on their child’s interests, and in doing so, learn to see and value the skills and talents arising from these interests. And hopefully, parents have also learned to recognise that most stereotyping occurs well out of context of what’s really going on. Remember, there’s nothing wrong with your child just because they like ‘weird stuff’ – but if you think something is wrong in certain areas of their life or relationships, that is another matter that you need to investigate further and seek professional advice for.

Key Messages for Practitioners and Others In terms of pathway planning, the same advice holds true for practitioners and others (like mentors, coaches, tutors, etc.) as it does for parents – to not assume that planning conversations are being had elsewhere and with ‘someone else’. Indeed, I encourage youth workers to treat every encounter with a young person as if it might be the only one-on-one opportunity they get to have a supportive adult listen to them, recognise their skills, encourage them and map out an achievable plan. (I acknowledge that for young people in crisis, or youth ‘at-risk’, survival imperatives are far more important than the luxury of longer-term pathway planning. However, there is still a place for crisis or outreach workers to

‘Mum Hates it, She Thinks all Metal Dudes are Evil’    163 use aspiration work and positive identity building as part of a future-oriented strengths-based recovery approach.) The same advice also applies for communicating with subcultural youth: let go of normative values and stereotypes and start where the young person is (youth workers tend to already be pretty good at this, but we all need to keep working on it, that’s why it’s called practice). Youth workers also tend to be good at building rapport with young people. However, remember that subcultural borders serve a purpose so don’t try to be ultra-cool and get into that space with them. Just be curious within limits and try to focus more on identifying unique strengths and skill-sets rather than making too much of unique or spectacular aesthetics (or trying to mirror their interests with too much self-disclosure). Again, these aren’t new ideas for youth practitioners, just things for all of us to reflect on in our daily work with young people. Most of us have engaged in workplace training around improving culturally sensitive practice strategies at systemic, organisational and service levels. We understand and respect the importance of this so it might be useful to think of what I’m proposing as being a wider perspective on subculturally competent practice skills and awareness. To refresh, the broader definition of cultural competence is: […] the ability to identify and challenge one’s cultural assumptions, one’s values and beliefs. It is about developing empathy and connected knowledge, the ability to see the world through another’s eyes, or, at the very least, to recognise that others may view the world through different colour lenses. Cultural competence requires a shift in perspective from regarding ‘culture’ as solely reflecting nationality, to being an all-encompassing, dynamic, complex construct. This includes sub cultures, cultures within cultures, organisational culture, etc. It is about recognising all beings as cultural and promoting self-awareness, rather than always referring to cultures as ‘other than’ or distinct from Anglo-Australian cultures. (Mental Health Coordinating Council, 2008, p. 67) It’s heartening to see that this definition acknowledges subculture (and culture within culture). However, this excerpt is taken from a workforce-development guide – the remainder of which predictably (and importantly) addresses working (in the Australian context) with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people as well as culturally and linguistically diverse groups and individuals. It doesn’t go on to address working with broader notions of subculture. In fact, I’ve searched and reviewed cultural competency frameworks far and wide and they all have a similarly narrow focus on what culture is. I’ve worked alongside Aboriginal youth and ethnically diverse migrant and refugee youth who have taught me a lot about the cultural factors shaping their experiences. However, I’ve also worked with many young gamers, gang members, furries, larpers, etc., and the role of subculture in their lives is also vitally important for their sense of self, purpose and belonging.

164    Heavy Metal Youth Identities I don’t have all the answers, but if we were to at least start thinking about a model for subcultural competency we might start with the following principles as a guide.

Principles of Subculturally Competent Child and Youth Practice ⦁⦁ Challenge and reject stereotypical accounts of subcultural youth: learn to view

subculture in the context of the whole of a young person’s life.

⦁⦁ Acknowledge and respect that subcultural borders serve an important purpose

for establishing a sense of safety and power that is uniquely experienced.

⦁⦁ Recognise subculture as a powerful coping tool: reframe identity choices

and subcultural practices as positive adaptations to personal and social circumstances. ⦁⦁ Identify and let go of adult-normative expectations: focus on unique strengths and skills to make a deliberate energy shift from what’s ‘wrong’ with subcultural youth to what’s ‘right’ with them. ⦁⦁ Actively engage with subcultural aspirations, strengths and skills: work from the mind-set that passive acceptance is patronising, but showing interest and asking questions validates a young person’s ideas builds trust and motivation. The focus of this book has been on developmental trajectories through postschool transitions, and the implications of empowered transitions of choice for psychosocial wellbeing. However, for some young people, crisis care and/or therapeutic and recovery work needs to happen ahead of (or perhaps alongside) pathway planning. Therefore, adults might find themselves working with young people in multiple practice environments of child and youth protection, counselling and casework, development and education, or child and youth participation initiatives (like youth advisory groups or youth councils). Like many fields of human service practice, these sub-sectors of child and youth practice tend to operate as silos standing separately from one another, but they share some agreed sets of ideas around positive identity building, healing through relationships and building resilience as being crucial determinants of optimal outcomes. The principles of subculturally competent child and youth practice I’ve outlined here are all calibrated towards achieving these things, and I strongly believe they can add value across the child and youth sector as a whole.

Chapter 8

‘It Sucks that People Get the Wrong Idea about Metal’: Concluding Remarks The title of this concluding chapter springs from participant comments about the ‘unfairness’ of metal being negatively stereotyped. To be clear, they didn’t want non-metal people to get on board and start liking metal; rather, they were just a bit fed up with being unfairly represented or written-off as ‘dead heads’. (However, there were also contradictions within this because at times it suited them quite nicely for people to have ‘the wrong idea about metal’, remembering back to Chapter 3 and the ways they learned to embody ‘scary’ metal personas for social protection.) In this final chapter, I summarise what we’ve learned about some of the ‘wrong ideas’ that have plagued metal youth. I do this by revisiting the research questions that were outlined in Chapter 1: 1. What aspects of metal music and culture do young people find alluring, and why do they take on the mantle of metaldom? 2. What benefits do young people perceive to gain from forming metal identities? 3. How are metal youth faring in post-school environments; and what shapes their aspirations, and the pathways they take, at various transition points in their young lives?

8.1 ‘Signing Up’ for Metal: Early Recruitment into the Metal Subculture The gateway to recruitment into the metal subculture was, first, the music itself – how it sounded and how it felt while listening to it. The intensity of the musical elements was enjoyable (and a major stress reliever) on emotional and physical levels. Participants described how the music and lyrics worked together to help alleviate difficult emotions. Song lyrics helped them to self-talk about their emotions and learn to manage them, and garner a sense that others were feeling

Heavy Metal Youth Identities Researching the Musical Empowerment of Youth Transitions and Psychosocial Wellbeing, 165–172 Copyright © 2018 by Emerald Publishing Limited All rights of reproduction in any form reserved doi:10.1108/978-1-78756-849-520181009

166    Heavy Metal Youth Identities the same way. The lyrics, ultimately, served as a soundtrack for rising up and reauthoring a more powerful and successful inner-dialogue for those feeling the strain of not ‘fitting in’ or enduring other life challenges (like bereavement, family breakdown and social isolation). Even though they said they ‘loved’ metal music, it was noted that female participants had less to say than their male counterparts did about the importance of listening to metal (which doesn’t represent female metalheads more broadly who are all about the music). However, it was clear that future research would benefit from a deeper investigation of gendered identifications with narratives in metal lyrics, particularly around whether metal lyrics might shape self-talk differently across the spectrum of gender identities and experiences. In Part One, Becoming Metal, we observed that growing up can be tough for many reasons, including the complex and individualised structuring of unchosen marginal school-based identities, which were examined in Chapter 3 (­ remembering that classed, raced and gendered ‘norms’ were complicated by a range of other uniquely experienced things like family dynamics, charisma and ‘relative’ poorness in middle-class environments). However, we also observed that the diversity of participant experiences was linked by a more commonly held perception of being an ‘outsider’ in the school environment – which was occurring around the same time they were first being exposed to metal music and culture. As their narratives unfolded, we witnessed a biographic re-authoring of ‘outsider’ status from something unchosen and derogatory to something chosen and desirable. By empowering themselves with an identity of their own choosing that celebrated and perhaps even aspired to ‘outsider’ status, the metal youth were reframing their perceived social deficits into empowering identity resources, and metal was a particularly good fit for the task. While other identity choices might have been available, metal was particularly enticing because it came with a highly favoured soundtrack and a ‘unique’ identity; it was relatively easy and inexpensive to join and, as we’ll be reminded in the section to follow, it produced ‘good’ social outcomes for the metal youth (in various ways). In addition, importantly, metal identity formations could be undertaken alone which was a key consideration for ‘outsiders’ without strong peer networks and those who felt very much alone in trying to manage their circumstances at school: metal worked particularly well as an individualised solution for individually experiences problems. It no longer mattered whether peers rejected them (if it did, they didn’t tell the story this way). Instead, they felt powerful and in charge of their own circumstances when actively rejecting and resisting against popular groups at school by forming a ‘chosen’ metal identity to counter ‘unchosen’ marginal identities built from diverse pieces of social undesirability. We also saw that this process occurred over time with numerous biographic adjustments along the way. It did not occur abruptly in response to any one defining critical moment. The concept of critical moments has previously been explored by youth scholars interested in factors, which can shape biographic revisions or adjustments at particular points in time in relation to specific events (e.g., Henderson, Holland, McGrellis, Sharpe, & Thomson, 2007; Holland & Thomson, 2009). Early on, I was interested to know if there were critical moments intersecting with metal identity formations. But, as

‘It Sucks that People Get the Wrong Idea about Metal’    167 it turned out, it was more fitting to conceptualise the whole of high school years as a critical period for reflexive metal identity construction over time. Understanding metal as a ‘solution’ for youth problems – rather than being symptomatic, correlative or even causative as some have argued or implied – has enormous currency for how we might understand a gamut of youth activities, which adults view as problematic, and video gaming is a good example of this (Ferguson, 2013; Winegarner, 2013). It is also a very different way of viewing youth transitions through not only a cultural lens of metal identity formations in everyday life, but also through the emotion work and micropolitics of growing up that young people encounter through various social interactions on an ­everyday basis.

8.2 ‘Becoming’ Metal: Early Embodiment of Metal Identities By drawing on metal’s negative stereotypes, one of the early ‘pay-offs’ of becoming metal was feeling a power shift in the school environment. For some, this was quite subtle in that they simply enjoyed ‘shocking people a bit’ and liked the idea of carving out a unique identity to purposefully set themselves apart from popular peer groups. For others, particularly those who were bullied and ostracised or humiliated in some way, embodying a ‘scary’ metal persona helped to intimidate and push back against those who were threatening them (or might in the future), ensuring they were ‘left alone’ at school – and crucially, this was a means of avoiding physical and/or verbal altercations with peers. These were non-confrontational youth who didn’t want any trouble; they just wanted to be left alone. Therefore, on one hand, becoming metal helped to keep the ‘wrong’ people out (creating a sense of social protection); on the other, it also created an alternate sense of belonging and inclusion, or inviting the ‘right’ people in. Embodying a metal identity sent a clear message to peer groups who rejected them: that they were socially valued and accepted elsewhere, in the metal community to be exact. Even though feeling accepted and included by the global metal community was largely an imagined experience during high school (prior to meeting any other metalheads in person), it was still able to evoke a crucial sense of belonging that had been absent among (or fractured by) peers at school. We know that a strong sense of community connection and validation by likeminded others is an important protective factor for mental health and wellbeing; and the metal youth confirmed this. Therefore, I highlighted questions of class inside the metal subculture in Chapter 4 and raised some concerns about metal youth potentially being rejected by metal peers based on perceptions of authenticity and metal subgenre ‘choices’, which are clearly structured by the resources metal youth have at their disposal. However, these were hypothetical questions for future research because, as it stood, metal peers did not directly reject participants in this research. On the contrary, all participants felt included and accepted as metalheads (by the global metal community). This was also tied up with a suite of reported benefits including a marked increase in confidence and power, and a critical sense of

168    Heavy Metal Youth Identities stability because metal served as an anchor point when most other things in life were uncertain, if not outright precarious for some. In his assessment of contemporary community life, Bauman (2001) argued that people look for groups they can belong to in a world where nothing else is certain, but as communities become harder to find in real life, the word ‘community’ itself becomes increasingly empty and used indiscriminately. He further proposed that the growing murkiness around notions of community has brought individual identity-making to the fore, and that identity is perhaps now functioning as a surrogate of community (p. 15). But in order to offer any kind of security that individuals yearn for, Bauman (2001) argued that identity needs to act as more than just a surrogate; ‘it needs to conjure up a phantom of the self-same community which it has come to replace’ (p. 16). I mention this here because the young people’s narrative constructions of identity and community showed that globalised metal was able to resolve the paradox of community and individualism through a process of collective identification that did indeed conjure up the idea of a self-same community for the metal youth. They were able to take what they needed, when they needed it, in terms of feeling accepted and validated by a global community of like-minded peers, with clear implications for enhancing psychosocial wellness (and of course, not forgetting or minimising the fun factor). During high school, an imagined sense of metal community membership was sufficient for mediating rejection and developing a sense of alternate purpose and worth. Clearly, there are complex social dynamics shaping ‘what community is’ and ‘what community does’, and young people are muddling through this and working it out amid the only terms of reference they have for doing so. In combination, metal came with a recognisable ‘uniform’ that paved the way for guaranteed acceptance and inclusion by the global metal community (if only imagined); and it came with a ready-made cultural script of danger and deviancy that could be deployed to intimidate and keep social threats at bay. However, underpinning all of this was a perception of (re)claiming power and taking control of one’s own social position, rather than allowing others to dictate and enforce the social rules and norms at school. As Jake had succinctly put it, ‘Metal gives people hope, it gives you power when you’re powerless’. I argue then, that for socially rejected youth, the benefits of becoming metal might not come much bigger than an ability to narratively reconstruct experiences of rejection into discourses of power and hope. Importantly, these constructions of power and hope were bound up with a sense of confidence, increased self-esteem, purpose, self-worth, and survival and coping skills, that is, elements that are all routinely captured in definitions of resilience, and are strong identity resources. This gives a clear direction for future research to pick up further on the ideas of chosen (subcultural) identity formations, positive self-talk and self-empowerment, which have been piloted in this research; particularly, in the ways they’ve been applied to school settings and experiences of bullying and exclusion, and as critical drivers of aspiration development and pathway planning.

‘It Sucks that People Get the Wrong Idea about Metal’    169

8.3 ‘Being’ Metal: a Deeper Understanding of ‘Heavy Metal Dreams’ Over the last 15 years, much has been written about the individualisation of youth transitions by authors with a firm focus on the structural determinants of young people’s life trajectories. However, as I’ve pointed out, there’s been a steadily growing call for transitions researchers to incorporate cultural perspectives (and vice versa) in order to gain better understandings of how young people interpret, construct and shape their lives within a given set of circumstances (Furlong, Woodman, & Wyn, 2011; Shildrick & MacDonald, 2006). My response has been to target research questions at the intersection of metal identity formations, broader aspiration development, social and economic factors, and domestic and community influences – and to look at all of this holistically in the contexts of everyday life. I felt this was important because young people let us know in a myriad of ways just how important their subcultural affiliations are to them. Thus, it made sense to me to look at how subculture, in this case metal, might influence or shape other aspects of their decision making as they leave school and have to make their way through a swamp of life choices around ‘where to’ and ‘what next’. As it turned out, all participants strongly held some form of metal-inspired aspirations, which was precisely Arnett’s concern (1996, p. 87) when he speculated that young metalheads envisioning lives-in-metal might end up experiencing even deeper alienation than (he assumed) they were already feeling when their ‘heavy metal dreams’ did not come true. However, counter to Arnett’s concerns, some of these young people did manage to embark on satisfying pathways of choice into music-related fields of work that celebrated their creative talents. Deep engagement with the lengthy narratives over time also revealed some of the more nuanced positive influences that metal-inspired aspirations (like travel) can ultimately have on transitions to work and further study. So, while most were envisioning futures incorporating metal interests, this wasn’t all bad news as Arnett had predicted. More significant was finding that whether they could achieve their goals depended on rather predictable social and familial factors that can affect all young people – metal or otherwise. Crucially, we have seen that success at achieving metal-inspired aspirations (or not) was dependent on factors that no previous studies of metal youth have picked up on – namely, the types of resources available to them in family and metal community contexts. Putting the spotlight on ‘choices’ and behaviours in context is significant here because it ought to change (or at least challenge) the way we view and interpret much of what has been previously written about metal youth from a deficit-frame and with no context provided (Rowe & Guerin, 2018). An interesting twist was finding the clear role that meaningful engagement in metal community life played for those who were on track to achieve their preferred pathways. There was clear evidence that metal community life provided strong identity resources by imparting confidence, status, acceptance and validation that metal pursuits were worthwhile and possible. And importantly, metal community life was critical for grounding aspirations that were realistic and achievable,

170    Heavy Metal Youth Identities and for highlighting when course-corrections might be necessary: there were also strong developmental aspects to participating in metal community life and building transferable skill-sets along the way. By exploring family dynamics, we were able to see that parents who actively engaged with their child’s metal worldview and were willing to support and encourage metal-inspired aspirations were essentially reflecting back to their children that their ideas were worthwhile – they were demonstrating trust in their child’s decision making, and trust is a key component of strong identity building and a launch pad into young adulthood and independence. We also saw that siblings were able to play an important role in fostering strong identity resources and good aspirational outcomes (which in turn showed us that anyone could make a difference in a young person’s life by actively engaging with their interests and skills). By way of future research, it would be interesting to hear directly from the parents and siblings of metal youth to gain direct insight into their perspectives on accepting, adapting to and encouraging metal-inspired aspirations, or not. Overall, we saw that strongest outcomes were achieved by the metal youth who had good quality support in both community and family contexts. What I cannot say, and what points to questions for future research, is whether there is any relationship between family support and metal community participation. We can see how important both were, but we need more information to discern if strong family support also helps young people to engage with metal communities and maximise their developmental opportunities. Stevo showed a clear case of parentassisted participation because his father used to drive him to under-age gigs and wait in an adjoining bar so his son had the freedom to explore the metal scene at a young age with a parental safety-net close by. It would be interesting to find out more about ways in which some parents might assist subcultural participation, and how knowingly they do this. In answer to my third broad research question, we now have a much clearer picture showing that metal affiliations can and do positively inform aspiration biographies, but there are complex factors at play for whether the aims are achieved. In contrast to some of the more speculative claims that metal youth are apathetic and pre-destined for low achieving futures (Arnett, 1996; Roe, 1992; Tanner, Asbridge, & Wortley, 2008), I found no evidence to suggest that metal preferences were correlative to poor life outcomes. Rather, I found that poorer outcomes (where they existed) were shaped and influenced by community and family factors that can affect any young person, regardless of their musical preferences.

8.4 Directions for Future Research From the outset, I had no intention to try to tell a story that is ‘true’ of all metal youth, so a more targeted research is obviously needed to follow up some of the paths opened here. Widely generalising to other metalheads was not a goal, so the size of the sample, their self-selection and self-reporting are not major issues. There are limitations to all research, and I have tried to make clear what can and can’t be inferred from these results. However, the consistency of thematic trends across the entire sample indicates that these findings make a significant

‘It Sucks that People Get the Wrong Idea about Metal’    171 contribution to our understanding of young people’s metal identity formations in the way they should – as findings about a small number of people, which should guide future research and applications to practice. What I can’t report on here (for ethical reasons) are post-script updates on participants and how things have continued to change quite significantly for some. For example, several Group 2 participants have turned things around quite drastically and are now much more on track for achieving their preferred aspirations which shows that a 10-year study would paint a much more complete picture of transitioning out of school and into the workforce (like the Inventing Adulthoods study was able to do). Nevertheless, I can only report on the period of their lives covered by the ethics protocol overseeing data collection – despite the fact that many still keep in touch with me and update me on how things are going for them. However, 10 years is a long time and a lot of resourcing to consider. Thus, there are perhaps some more manageable (and even more urgent) questions for future research to think about, which are as follows: ⦁⦁ Hidden displacements of class inside the metal subculture: investigating

⦁⦁

⦁⦁

⦁⦁ ⦁⦁

whether some metal youth might experience direct exclusion by metal peers based on the ‘quality’ or authenticity of their metal identities. We know that ‘turning to metal’ was a key protective factor for countering exclusion by non-metal peers at school. However, as it stands, we do not know if poorly resourced metal youth are experiencing further exclusion within metal subgenres and what impact this might have on their identity and aspiration biographies, and ultimately, their mental health and wellbeing. Gendered early identification with, and use of, metal lyrics and narratives: much has been said about individualising forces shaping the masculine biography. However, we know very little about ways that narratives in metal lyrics might shape self-talk for gender diverse metal youth. Metal as a case study for the field of new social movements: spotlight on the complexities of individualised social action and micro-level political transformation. Deeper investigation of subcultural participation as an enabler of skill development to meet the needs of a changing workforce. Family perspectives on adapting to metal worldviews, or not: exploring what parents, caregivers and siblings have to say about responding to the young metalhead in the family.

These were things that peaked my interest from both youth studies and metal studies perspectives, and things I personally wanted to know much more about. Readers will no doubt have their own unanswered questions from the data presented throughout this book.

8.5 Final Word Surviving high school can be tough. There aren’t too many of us who don’t have at least some memories of feeling humiliated or not quite measuring up in some way.

172    Heavy Metal Youth Identities The popular kids have ruled the social order ever since schools opened for business, but the young people I spoke to were able to creatively respond to the pain of feeling rejected (or worse) by forging metal identities to counter social vulnerability, reclaim a sense of power and feel a whole lot better about themselves and their circumstances. Despite our best efforts to develop effective bullying interventions, we can’t change schooling experiences so that every young person feels included and accepted by their peers. Nevertheless, what we can do is provide better support to young people on the margins of their own school culture and assist them with mapping out pathways of choice that can foster positive identity building, purpose, achievement and, ultimately, wellbeing. As a society, we’ve exhausted the key message of late modernity to young people: that they are growing up in a time of far greater choices and opportunities than previous generations, and they can pretty much do whatever they want to with their lives. Nevertheless, we complicate and confuse this message by insinuating that we don’t trust their decisions when we try to steer them in the direction of (our normative views of) what they should do with their lives. The driving message to leave with readers is that we ought to listen to what young people like and want, and actively engage them in future-planning discussions. Dismissing young people’s subcultural preferences as unimportant or deviant is clearly not supportive, but neither is patronising their preferences with hollow acceptance. We need to tap into young people’s thinking and celebrate their uniqueness but follow up purposefully with action planning, expanding career visibility and creating opportunities to road test their ideas in order to ground their aspirations in what is realistically achievable. As parents, scholars, educators, youth workers and policy makers, we need to set aside the assumption that these discussions are being had ‘somewhere’ by ‘someone’ and actively seek to open up multiple entry points for this to occur meaningfully in young people’s lives. The narrative methods deployed throughout this longitudinal study have given voice to metal youth, allowing them to speak candidly, and at length, about their relationship to metal and how it factored in their daily lives. What they’ve had to say mounts a significant challenge to long-held negative assumptions about metal youth and their thinking on a range of matters. In the end, they were really quite ordinary young folk just trying to get by, but the more remarkable feature of their stories was the various ways they were all able to draw on metal music and culture as building blocks for positive identities, resilient coping skills and aspiration development on their journeys to adulthood.

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Index Note: Page numbers followed by “n” with numbers indicate footnotes. Academic psychology, 12 Acid Bath albums, 104 Actively planning, 101 ‘Angry metal’ bands, 85–86, 88 Aspirations (see also Heavy metal dreams), 14–18, 20, 26–27, 92, 97, 141–142, 171, 172 back-up plan, 115, 116 flexible versus fixed, 99, 118 metal-inspired, 144, 169 metal-related, 103–104 plan B, 100, 101, 113–115 reality checking and re-authoring aspirations for success, 141–142 subjectively perceived futures, 15 Authenticity, 93-95 Becoming metal, 18, 24, 27, 29, 50, 52, 66, 68, 72, 80, 97, 166, 167–168 Bedroom metallers, 77–80 Black metal, 79, 83–84, 86–88, 91–94, 96, 110–111, 123, 128 Black metallers, 79, 81, 84, 87, 93, 103, 128 Bloodstock festival (UK), 103 Bullying coping with, 38, 41, 65 intervention strategies, 67-68, 172 and social vulnerability, 50-51, 55-58, 65 Causality, 10 Centrelink, 89n8 Circle pit, 76n1 Class, 81–82 (see also Socio-economic status [SES])

Confidence, 139–141 Conservative detractors, 8 Consumerism, 94 Corpse paint, 79, 79n5, 91 Daddy (song), 35 Damaged stereotypes, 67 Days Turn Blue to Gray (song), 36 Death Cult Armageddon (album), 88 Deathcore/metalcore bands, 83 Devil Driver (Fafara), 76 Devil Worship: Exposing Satan’s Underground (documentary), 10 Digital media, 78 Dimmu Borgir (album), 83, 86, 88, 91 ‘Do-it-yourself’ biographies (DIY biographies), 42 Domination (song), 41 Economic factors, 95, 112, 134 Emotions/emotional, 51, 72 pain, 52 wellbeing, 39 Empowerment self-empowerment, 50, 168 and wellbeing, 67 Escapism, 112 Families, key messages for, 161–162 Fear mongering, 12 Fleshies, 87n7 Flexible Learning Options (FLO), 124–125 Global Financial Crisis (GFC), 131 Global metal community, 71, 167 Globalisation of metal, 93

180   Index Goth subculture, 20 Hammer Smashed Face (song), 38 Headbanger’s Ball, 2 Heavy metal dreams, 99–102, 138, 169–170 David case study, 115–118 metal-related travel, 103–113 playing and plan B, 113 thematic differences of Zack and David case study, 118 Zack case study, 113–115 Heavy metal music, 7 Heavy Metal Parking Lot (Krulik and Heyn), 77 Heavy Metal: The Music and its Culture (Weinstein), 8 Hellfest metal festival (France), 103, 104, 125 Household costs, 44 Human service organisations, 159 Identity formations collective identities, 65, 75–76 reframing outsider status, 71 structuring of school-based identities, 54–58 individualisation of, 22, 43, 44, 76, 169 chosen identities, 23, 49, 53, 58, 60, 63–64, 66–68, 142, 158, 166, 168 unchosen identities, 23, 49, 53, 61, 65, 66–68, 166 Individualism, 94 and women, 43-45 black metallers espousing, 93 embedded in metal lyrics, 44 globalised metal use, 168 masculine, 43 metal narratives of broken self, 36, 37 metal work ethic and, 41–43 Insider research, 5, 19–21 Intangible family support, 120, 122

Kerrang! magazine, 35 Key learnings in practical frame, 158 key messages for families, 161–162 key messages for practitioners, 162–164 principles of subculturally competent child and youth practice, 164 Lamb of God (Blythe), 76 Listening to metal, 31 checking in with the broken self, 32–37 galvanising the dominant self, 37–43 ‘metal is my drug’, 45–48 power of music, power of words, 31–32 stress release (mind/body), 32 Maryland Dethfest (United States), 103 Mental health and wellbeing (see also Psychosocial wellbeing), 67, 96, 118, 133–134, 138, 158, 167, 171 Metal, 45–48, 112, 155, 165 lyrics, 8-9, 17, 31-32, 35-39, 41, 44, 62, 65, 165 mentors, 157 music, 46 musicians, 102, 112 preferences, 15 scholars, 18 as strategy for political transformation, 66–68 subculture, 63, 67, 165–167 work ethic, 41–43 Metal community achieving metal community membership, 75 establishing proof of eligibility, 76–77 face-to-face communities, 80, 122 global, 71, 167 imagined community, 71 Metal community life, 77-80, 119, 138, 142

Index    181 meaningful participation in, 122, 122, 134, 138 Metal identity early embodiment of, 26, 29, 59, 71, 75, 167–168 going to public with, 59–65 formations, 22, 24, 26, 38, 66, 68, 69, 80–82, 95, 145, 166, 169, 171 Metal media online media, 76, 83, 84 patterns of consumption, 87–93 watching music videos, 11 Metal subgenres, 23 affiliations with, 81 constructing authenticity and choice, 93–95 constructing the ‘Other’, 84–87 patterns of access, consumption, and participation in, 87–93 Metal youth, 7, 158–159, 166 constructions, 71 parents of, 144–145 previous studies, 12–14 research ‘problem’, 18–19 social disapproval of metal, 8–12 transitions and aspirations, 14–18 Metal-inspired aspirations, 144 Metal-related travel, 103 Alex case study, 104–107 differences in ability to achieve travel plans, 110–113 international events, 103–104 Stevo case study, 107–110 Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey (documentary), 76 Metalheads (Arnett), 13, 99 Moral panics, 11 Moral superiority, 38–41 Music Metal and Politics conference, 18 Music-related careers, 102 Musical preferences, 17

Non-adaptive parenting, 147–151 Non-adaptive siblings, 155–156 Non-metal genres of music, 84 Non-metal youth, 159–160 Online participation, 78 Open-air music festivals, 103 Outsiders/outsider status, 11, 29, 40, 58, 60, 63, 67, 71, 139 as researchers, 20, 26 biographic reauthoring of, 166 celebration of, 67 in school environments, 16, 37, 50-51, 53, 66 Rob Zombie on, 37 Parenting analysis applied to siblings, 154 adaptive siblings, 156–157 family contexts, 157–158 non-adaptive siblings, 155–156 reactive siblings, 156 Parenting typology, 146 adaptive parenting, 153 dominant parenting responses, 147 no parenting, 154 non-adaptive parenting, 147–151 reactive parenting, 151–153 Parents, 143 of metal youth, 144–145 parental attitudes to metal in present study, 145–146 and tangible support, 134–138 and intangible support, 143–146 Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC), 8 Peers metal, 112, 122, 128, 135, 140, 167, 171 non-metal, 39, 59, 74, 96, 139, 171 Power relations at school, 50 action, 52–53 experience, 50–51 feeling, 51–52 Psychosocial wellbeing, 22

182   Index holistic wellbeing, 118 mental health, 133–134 social protection, 49, 65, 71, 80, 165, 167 status and confidence, 139–141 Qualitative research using narrative methods, 23 Rage, 2 Rave Off! Politics and Deviance in Contemporary Youth Culture (Redhead), 6 Reality checking and re-authoring aspirations for success, 141–142 Reflexivity, 22 Relationships familial, 82, 146, 169 school-based (see also Peers), 49, 53, 54–58, 166 social, 139 Research design and methods, 23 data collection, 25 data management and analysis, 26–27 ethics, 25 field observations, field notes and general communication, 25 interviews, 26 sample and recruiting, 23–24 Resilience, 66 Resistance as resilience, 66 as self-empowerment, 50, 168 Road testing, reality checking and re-authoring aspirations for success, 141–142 ‘Rock star’, 141 Rockers, 2 Satanic Bible, 65 Satanic Panic, 11 Scapegoating, 11 Schooling, 51 and career planning support, 153, 160

dominant peer groups, 50, 54 marginal school-based identities, 49, 166 schoolteachers, 157 Self-belief, 154 Self-esteem, 15, 17, 41, 50, 95-96, 154 Self-worth, 154 Siblings, 155 ‘Signing up’ for metal, 165–167 Social disapproval of metal, 8–12 Social-crisis phenomena in late modernity, 42 Socio-economic status (SES) lower, 81, 82–83, 93 higher, 82, 83–84, 95 middle, 81–82, 83, 93 Socio Economic Index for Areas (SEIFA), 82 (un)defining class, 81–82 Sopranos, The (Prime-time television drama), 11 Soundwave festival (Australia), 91 Status and confidence, 139–141 Stereotyping of metalheads, 11 Subcultural/subculture, 5n2 affiliations, 7, 49–50 and political transformation, 67-68 as a tool for skill development, 160–161 principles of subculturally competent child and youth practice, 164 youth, 163 Suicide Solution (song), 8, 9 Surfies, 2 Technical and Further Education (TAFE), 4n1 Thrash metallers, 103 Transitions/social transitions (see Youth Transitions) Video games/gaming, 11, 12, 38, 39, 61, 111, 131, 167 Vocational pathway, 123

Index    183 Wacken Open Air festival (Germany), 103, 111 ‘Wall of death’ (moshing practice), 76n1 West Memphis Three, 10 Youth studies divisions between cultural and transitions perspectives, 6-7

Youth transitions, 5-6, 14, 23, 97, 146, 154, 157, 169 and complex decision making, 6 default, 119–122, 127–134 developmental, 119–127 empowered, 110, 139 in contemporary contexts, 6, 133 individualisation of, 22, 169 post-school, 26