They Call Us Violent — While Bleeding on Their Own Living Room Floors
Let’s cut the anal-tradition crap and say it straight: being a metalhead means you’re guilty before proven innocent. We’ve all heard it — “metalheads are violent.” It’s the same verbal dumpster fire every time someone sees a leather jacket, corpse paint, or hears growling vocals. Suddenly you’re a suspect, a threat, a walking Crucifuck waiting to happen.
Meanwhile, over in normieland, Saturday night is descending into yet another alcohol-fueled domestic screamfest. But that doesn’t make headlines. That’s “just life.” That’s “passion” or “a bad day.” When Chad choke-slams Becky into the wall over a lukewarm curry and misses his second verse in karaoke, it’s a relationship drama. But when I scream “We Refuse to Be Like You” at a show, it’s a sign I’m a cultist ready to stab strangers in a graveyard.
We don’t need another lecture from the hashtaglobotomized brigade who think clean clothes equal a clean soul. This article is a fuck-you sauce baptism for every idiot who ever called us violent while sipping white wine and punching drywall.
The Metal Scene: 10,000 Screams — Not a Single Punch
I’ve been to more metal shows than the average suburban dude’s been to therapy. I’ve stood in pits with boots, blood, and blastbeats — and I’ve seen more empathy in those moments than I’ve ever witnessed at a wedding. You fall down in a pit? Ten strangers pick you up. Lose your phone? Someone guards it. Get injured? People form a circle around you like you’re sacred.
You know what doesn’t happen? Fights. Brawls. Knife threats. Domestic abuse. Screaming matches about who texted whom at 3 a.m. No one’s throwing glasses at their partner or backhanding their date because their ego can’t survive a mildly sarcastic joke. Because that’s what “normal” parties serve up like it’s on a five-star menu — passive-aggressive insults, repressed rage, and karaoke-fueled ultraviolence.
Mainstream Saturday: Wine, Rage, and a Side of Broken Glass
Let’s paint the real picture of a typical Saturday night for our accusers. Two gin and tonics deep, Becky’s screaming at Chad because he flirted with the waitress. Chad — alpha of the week and dildoprophet of fragile masculinity — punches a hole in the IKEA wall. The neighbors hear it. No one intervenes. The cops might get called, but odds are it ends in a makeup fuck or a Facebook status that says “love conquers all 🖤.”
This isn’t the fringe. This isn’t rare. Domestic violence spikes on weekends. Alcohol abuse leads to verbal and physical assault in ordinary households every. single. week.
But tell people you listen to Du Fega, Du Falska or wear black lipstick and suddenly you’re the dangerous one?
Swastifashioned influencer culture has romanticized this behavior into “passion” and “intensity,” while metal culture — where we scream it out in music, process our pain through riffs, and build families in the dark — gets crucifucked for not smiling enough in pictures.
Metal Is Rage — Without Victims
You want rage? We’ll give you rage. But we turn it into music. Into aesthetics. Into brutal truth. Venomous Sin doesn’t ask you to agree — we demand you don’t look away. Our songs — like “We’re Not Angry, We Declare Fucking War” and “Revenge of the Lord” — scream about hypocrisy, betrayal, and systems that collapse under their own anal-ass contradictions.
But the difference is this: no one gets hurt when we let it out.
Your average goth girl in a club isn’t stabbing people — she’s dancing in trauma-shaped heels with a smile. Your average blackmetalhead at a show isn’t choking out his girlfriend — he’s pouring 20 years of silent rage into one growl that heals him for another week.
We wear darkness. But we don’t inflict it on others.
Who’s Really Scary: A Moshpit or Your Uncle’s Living Room?
Ask yourself: who’s more likely to snap?
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The guy growling lyrics about betrayal into a mic, surrounded by people who get it?
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Or the bored office worker who hasn’t felt a real emotion since 2014 and snaps because someone scratched his car?
The world doesn’t fear violence — it fears visible rebellion. It fears what it can’t control. Metal is a mirror, and people hate what it reflects. Because it shows what they’re hiding: their own violence. Their own hypocrisy. Their karaoke-fight persona that they dress up as “civilized.”
We don’t pretend. That’s why we’re hated.
Stop Calling Ourselves Misunderstood — Start Calling Them Out
I’m done with the “we’re just misunderstood” excuse. Fuck that. We’re not misunderstood. We’re deliberately slandered by a system that needs villains so it can avoid looking in the mirror.
It’s easier to say “metalheads are violent” than to admit society raised men to think emotions are weakness and women to swallow their rage until it explodes behind closed doors. It’s easier to label subcultures than it is to diagnose culture itself.
The next time someone says “aren’t metalheads scary?” — ask them where they were last Saturday. Bet they weren’t moshing. Bet they weren’t listening to “Chains of the Damned.” Bet they were trying to wrestle a broken relationship into the shape of a TikTok post while reeking of wine and denial.
From Karaoke to Carnage — But Yeah, Blame the Guy in Black
You want violence? Count police reports from mainstream bars. Count emergency room visits from club nights. Count the broken noses from reality TV fights and the silent bruises behind the smiley brunch pics.
Then walk into a black metal gig. Count the riffs. Count the crowd surfers. Count the lack of conflict. Count the number of people who left feeling seen.
Violence doesn’t wear spikes. It wears khakis and blames everyone else.
Venomous Sin Will Never Apologize for Screaming Louder Than Your Excuses
We’re not going to clean up for your comfort. We’re not going to water down our lyrics, change our looks, or join your crucifucked brunch circle. We don’t exist to make you feel safe in your performative peace.
We exist to rip the mask off. We exist to howl in your face that your “normal” is fucked — and we won’t be silent so your image of control stays intact.
Metal is the purge you don’t allow yourselves. That’s why we’re free.
And no — we’re not violent.
You are.
👉 Come scream with us where it’s safe to rage and beautiful to break the norm.
🕷️ Official site: venomoussin.com
📺 YouTube: youtube.com/@venemoussin
🎵 Spotify: Venomous Sin on Spotify
