The goth and metal scenes were never built for Instagram filters. They were forged in dive bars, rehearsal basements, and festivals that reek of piss, beer, and blood. Yet here we are, drowning in a TikTok tidal wave of ready-made “darkness.” Plastic metalheads and goth-lite influencers posing with mesh tops and eyeliner, curating playlists they barely understand, and calling it rebellion. Spoiler: rebellion doesn’t come pre-packaged with an affiliate code.

This post is going to be long, venomous, and impossible to ignore — because someone has to drag these coffin-candied posers into the daylight and burn them for what they are.

When Darkness Becomes a Filter

Search TikTok for “goth” or “metalhead” and what do you find? Not the guttural riffs of underground bands or the raw bleed of industrial beats. Instead, you’ll see a swarm of hashtaglobotomized influencers — smudged eyeliner, mesh shirts, fake chokers from H&M. Their “darkness” exists only in portrait mode, under studio lighting. It’s swastifashion in its purest form: “Be yourself” as long as it’s marketable, safe, and algorithm-friendly.

For these Insta-slaves, darkness is just an accessory. Like buying a pumpkin spice latte, but goth. They’re not building scenes. They’re building brand deals.

Hand with black nails flashing horns sign over shattered smartphone and broken glass on dark surface.

Music vs. Selfies

Let’s carve out the real difference. Goth and metal were — and still are — about music. That’s the spine. The riffs, the screams, the synths that crawl into your veins. Festivals like Wacken and M’era Luna aren’t catwalks — they’re battlegrounds where mud replaces make-up and you leave with more scars than selfies.

Metal isn’t an outfit. Goth isn’t a filter. These subcultures are about sound, experience, and survival. They’re about bands that write songs like Ashes of Fake Facades or We’re Not Angry, We Declare Fucking War — not influencers pretending their playlist of three The Cure tracks and one Bring Me the Horizon single is a blood oath into the underworld.

The Rise of Plastic Metalheads

Here’s the anatomy of a plastic metalhead:

  • Step 1: Buy a mesh top.

  • Step 2: Add black lipstick and a random spiky choker.

  • Step 3: Record a 15-second TikTok lip-sync to a song you don’t even know the title of.

  • Step 4: Caption it with “dark vibes only ✨🖤.”

That’s not subculture. That’s cuntent. That’s cosplay without the honesty of calling it cosplay. It’s the hollow echo of a world that confuses style with sacrifice.

inluencers in subcultures: Blonde influencer in fishnet outfit taking selfies in a graffiti-covered basement while others hang out.

Pre-Made Darkness

Darkness isn’t pre-made. It’s not an outfit in a Shein shopping cart. It’s nights spent bleeding into lyrics no one wants to hear. It’s being mocked for wearing black before TikTok decided it was cool. It’s the scars behind Venomous Sin’s songs like Macabre’s Revenge or Twilight’s Funeral. Darkness doesn’t trend — it haunts.

The influencers sell a shortcut: play dress-up, get likes, pretend you’re dangerous. But real danger? Real rebellion? It’s saying what no one wants to hear. It’s standing on the outside of every system and screaming until the system breaks.

Why It Matters

You might ask: who cares? Let them pose. But here’s why it matters. Subcultures die when they’re reduced to aesthetics. When the music, the message, and the fury get buried under filters. When “metalhead” becomes synonymous with thirst traps and “goth” means Pinterest bedroom décor.

If the loudest voices in the scene are selfie-sluts with brand deals, the real sound gets silenced. Bands with venom in their veins get ignored while cringelectuals with ring lights dictate what’s “authentic.” That’s not just annoying. That’s cultural vandalism.

Influencer smiles with phone while annoyed metalhead frowns at a concert, captioned “I never heard about the band.”

Venomous Sin Declares War on Cuntent

Let’s be clear: this isn’t gatekeeping. Venomous Sin has no time for elitist bullshit. If you feel the music, you’re in. But influencers hijacking subcultures for likes? That’s not being part of the scene — that’s being a content-parasite. And parasites don’t get a stage pass.

Our band has always screamed against hypocrisy, whether it’s Compliance is a Corpse or Fuck Your Filter and Say It, You Son of a Bitch. The influencer wave is just another hypocrisy wrapped in black lace: rebellion as performance, individuality as trend. We see through it. And we’re not silent.

A Call to the Real

To the sinners reading this: don’t kneel to this filter-fueled circus. Support the bands, the underground clubs, the DIY festivals. Blast Mud, Mascara & Mayhem until your walls shake. Share songs, not selfies. Subcultures are built in noise, not in hashtags.

If you’re a poser scrolling TikTok thinking your mesh top makes you dangerous — wake the fuck up. Darkness isn’t cute. It’s crucifuck ugly, and it doesn’t want your hashtags.

Conclusion

The rise of plastic metalheads and TikTok goths is just another reminder of how fast culture gets watered down when the algorithm gets involved. But here’s the difference: real goth and real metal won’t die because some Insta-slaves play dress-up. The riffs are louder than their filters. The screams are sharper than their captions.

Influencers in subcultures are parasites. But the scene? The scene survives. Because music always outlasts selfies.

So to every sinner out there: stay loud, stay venomous, stay unfiltered. Let’s keep burning the plastic until nothing remains but sound, scars, and truth.

👉 Our home: https://venomoussin.com/
👉 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@venemoussin
👉 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/4SQGhSZheg3UAlEBvKbu0y?si=qKMljt6rT1WL0_KTBvMyaQ

Xavi
Xavi