BAXAXAXA
Tradition & Essence
Few Black Metal acts bridge past and present with as
uncompromising a vision as BAXAXAXA. Formed in 1992 in Bavaria, the band made
virtually no public releases until their dramatic re-emergence in 2017, driven
by a revival of life in a project that seemed more a possession than mere
music. Their anthology “Spells from The Crypt…”, released in late 2024, gathers
early demos and EP material in a remastered vinyl edition, summarizing their
underground legacy in one ritual offering. Their albums “Catacomb Cult” (2021)
and “De Vermis Mysteriis” (2023) carry forward the same archaic fire, infused
with atmospheric keyboards and raw, hypnotic Black Metal rooted more in
Hellhammer and Bathory than modern trends.
BAXAXAXA’s approach has never wavered with the
times. Their disdain for performative theatrics and commercialism, preferring
mystery, presence, and musical conviction, is a testament to their conviction.
Yet, equally important to their sound are their lyrical motifs and mythological
references, which reach deep into occult tradition, medieval mysticism, and the
enduring fascination with darkness as metaphor. As they prepare for a
significant appearance at Invicta Requiem Mass this year, this interview aims to
probe that enduring identity, juxtaposing the path they’ve trodden with the
state of Black Metal today and examining what's next for the band.
1. BAXAXAXA was formed
in 1992, then lay
dormant until 2017 before resurfacing in earnest. How do you reflect on such an arc of absence and resurgence?
BAXAXAXA began in 1992 as an atmospheric black metal offshoot
of Ungod—more a project
than a “full band.” After the Hellfire demo, everything felt said at that
moment, so it went to sleep. The spark returned when the organizer of
Destroying Texas Fest invited Ungod to play in 2016 and then asked for an
exclusive BAXAXAXA set in 2018, rehearsing for that show stirred new
inspiration and songs. In that sense, BAXAXAXA is an idea that occasionally
manifests—more than the sum of individuals.
2. You’ve
described BAXAXAXA as an “idea that occasionally manifests.” Do you see the
band as eternal in that sense, something that will always return when the spark
comes?
Not
a vow of eternity, more a vow against forcing it. If the spark returns,
BAXAXAXA returns; if not, silence is truer than imitation. That’s why we call
it an idea rather than a production line.
3. Does the compilation Spells from The Crypt… feel like preserving a legacy, reclaiming
it, or both? What motivated its release beyond mere archival purpose?
Both.
It preserves early materials in a focused form and also reclaims the arc by
placing those recordings alongside our current identity. It’s a single
“offering” that bridges the hiatus and the present—and, practically, it gets the old work into the hands of people who discovered us through the recent
albums.
4. How do “Catacomb Cult” (2021) and “De Vermis
Mysteriis” (2023) differ?
They’re
cut from the same cloth: archaic, atmospheric, direct. We never plotted a
stylistic turn; songs come naturally and we keep what feels
like BAXAXAXA. If anything, De Vermis
Mysteriis carries a stronger “mystic/atmospheric” balance.
5. You
mentioned Lovecraft’s “De Vermis Mysteriis”. Are there other fictional or
literary works you would consider equally significant for BAXAXAXA’s vision?
No
fixed canon. Threads from European folklore and rites (e.g., Walpurgis Night)
mingle with esoteric/fictional currents when they serve atmosphere. There is no
specific focus except our connection to the occult. And that is meant
literally. The occult in the sense of the “hidden,” that which lies beneath the
surface and must be discovered.
6. Early ’90s values VS today’s scene?
Back
then there was more mystery and less exposure; you learned about bands by
letters, flyers and tape trading. Today social media has stripped
away some of that mystique—but it also connects bands
with listeners directly. We don’t romanticize or crusade either way; we simply
keep our own flame burning.
7. If
the early 1990s were about discovery and mystery, what do you think the
“essence” of today’s underground is?
It's
not that there's nothing left to discover today. But today, it's probably more
important to avoid becoming part of a trend.
8. What’s been lost and what’s been gained?
Lost: opacity
and the sense of discovery. Gained: access and reach. Commercialization made parts of the scene trend-driven, but we ignore the noise
and keep our standard.
9. Is your archaic aesthetic nostalgia or critique
of modern oversaturation?
Neither. It’s continuity. We don’t “act old-school”; that is simply
how our music
emerges.
10. Has your songwriting process
shifted?
Not really.
Inspiration leads; we follow. Riffs surface, we shape the skeleton and keep what feels true; nothing is forced, and
nothing is “designed” to be modern or experimental.
11. Why keyboards in such raw soundscapes?
From
the start we wanted a darker, more occult atmosphere than our other work, and
keyboards were rare in Black Metal then. Used sparingly, they deepen the chill rather
than soften the Metal.
12. The
keyboards were unusual in early Black Metal. Do you feel they’re now
misunderstood clichés, or still underused tools?
Do you really think they were that unusual? Listen to
“Under the Sign of the Black Mark.” Keyboards are definitely used there, but
hardly anyone noticed. Or “Altars of Madness”—keyboard passages are sprinkled
throughout that album as well. It's true that fewer bands from the “second
wave” used keyboards. But it wasn't completely uncommon either. Keyboards are
neither misunderstood nor underused. They are one instrument among many. And if
they suit your music, use them. There's no need to mystify them.
13. Preserving atmosphere in the studio
today?
By
resisting over-detailing and trend-chasing. We keep arrangements lean, let
space breathe, and avoid piling on “new” elements
just to be clever. Tradition and intuition are the
guardrails.
14. You’ve
said you avoid over-detailing in the studio. Can you recall a moment where
“less” made a song much stronger?
Moments
like muting a guitar line or a faint keys pad often restore space so the riff
and the drums. But I can't name a specific moment. However, I feel that
“Hellfire” is a song that explains it well. Few riffs, which are often
repeated, and a tempo that hardly varies. That's what makes this song what it
is, and more tempo changes or riffs would destroy it.
15. What role do occult
themes play in shaping BAXAXAXA’s identity?
They’re integral, but we let the lyrics and artwork speak.
We don’t dissect
personal beliefs in public;
the records, titles and visuals show how those currents flow through the band.
16. "De Vermis Mysteriis", your intent and interpretation?
Occult
fiction and myth prime imagination and channel spirituality; they can be part
of a personal path, not a one-size-fits-all system. For us, Lovecraft's fictional
grimoire is a fitting
vessel for atmosphere and symbolism.
17. Allegory vs direct
invocation?
Both may exist, but we won’t define them for the listener. Meaning
should be discovered, not spoon-fed.
18. Particular mythological traditions?
It’s a potent mix of dark folklore and ancient satanic
rites.
19. Esoteric layers vs stark truths in your lyrics?
They’re written
to reward attention. Some things are veiled by design; others
are plainly stated.
20. You
stress that your lyrics reward attention and are partly veiled. Is there a
lyric or symbol you feel is most often misinterpreted by listeners?
As
I said before: We avoid decoding our own work. Meaning should be discovered,
not notarized by us; veiling is deliberate, and listeners are free to read. The
records speak; we keep belief and interpretation private. But we never felt
misinterpreted so far.
21. Your live expression, without “haunted
house” theatrics.
We understand stage visuals, but concerts aren’t
rituals in our view. A ritual is personal and purposeful; a show is art and
entertainment. We focus on presence, darkness, smoke, and the music’s gravity.
22. You
distance shows from rituals. Still, is there ever a blurred line for you
between performance and genuine spiritual experience?
That's
difficult to answer. We don't perform shows in the sense of a theater play,
where we perform something that isn't real. On the other hand, we resist
describing a metal concert as a “ritual.” We are honest on stage; we present
our music the way we imagine it and try to convey to the audience some of the
darkness we feel inside us. That's it. No more, no less.
23. What should an audience
feel rather than see?
Weight, dread,
and immersion, without distraction. If we perform
well and the audience
responds, that’s success.
24. Preparing for Invicta Requiem
Mass this year?
We’ll
represent the whole arc, early fire through the latest material, keeping the set
austere and concentrated. The aim is to carry the album atmosphere to the stage without
diluting it with gimmicks.
25. Is refusing to conform
defiance, preservation, or something else?
Preservation through
authenticity. We don’t
police others; we simply won’t
overload our music with
outside influences that dissolve its essence.
26. Contemporary bands you feel honor the underground spirit?
We don’t track every new wave, but there are younger
acts we appreciate. Our focus remains on our own path.
27. What’s next beyond recording and touring?
New material
is in preparation; the fire determines the pace, but realistically we’re
looking toward a 2026 release window. Alongside there are plans for a Latin American
tour as well as European gig
& festival participation.
28. You
plan a 2026 release. Do you already envision it as a continuation of “De Vermis
Mysteriis”, or will it mark a new chapter?
Of
course we will start a new chapter. But without losing sight of what has
brought us to where we are today. We will maintain our style. That's for sure.
29. You
mentioned Latin American and European tours. Do you expect different audience
energies in those regions, and how do you adapt your sets to them?
We
expect the audience in Latin America to be significantly “livelier” than the
audience in Europe. We always feel connected to our audience, so that won't
make any difference. In Europe, however, the audience seems to absorb our music
quietly. I think Latin Americans are more temperamental, and people come out of
their shells more during the music. Strictly speaking, though, we've never
stood in front of an audience that we felt didn't understand us and our music.
BAXAXAXA
stands as one of Black Metal’s most enduring enigmas: a band that vanished into
silence, only to return with unflinching commitment to the archaic, the occult,
and the timeless. Their music is not just performance but possession, animated
by riffs that summon the same primeval atmosphere as their forebears while
carving a path into the future. Central to this are the lyrical motifs and
mythological invocations that deepen their work beyond sound, anchoring their
songs in an esoteric continuum that resists easy explanation.
As
they prepare for Invicta Requiem Mass, their legacy and vision converge on a
stage that honours ritual and severity. These questions seek to open the crypt,
to allow BAXAXAXA to articulate how mythology, darkness, and musical conviction
shape their journey, between past and present, obscurity and revelation,
silence and resurgence.
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