The lights dimmed, and the crowd around me went wild. All eyes turned ahead. Onstage, a shadowy figure made his way forward. The light played briefly across his haggard face, then went to play somewhere safer. There was a brief flurry of motion followed by an explosion of light and sound. Metallica had taken stage.
What drew my attention to this particular instant was not the music which blared throughout the auditorium, nor the people who produced it onstage. It was the singular action of every fan in attendance. As a cohesive group, the fans had begun to throw their heads violently to and fro in time with the music. I watched with the same fascination exhibited by naturalists as they follow the autumnal migrations of the Canadian Snow goose. I watched, awestruck, as the crowd began--to headbang.
Headbanging, although commonly considered an exclusive among the Heavy Metal/Rock crowd, can been seen throughout the music world. Who hasn't witnessed the passionate conductor, swinging and tossing his head as he leads his orchestra? Anyone who's ever watched An Evening at the Pops on PBS can attest to the fact that some conductors, John Williams and Bernhard Stephens among them, are almost violent in their motions. Who hasn't seen the pianist swaying and nodding at his bench as his fingers trace a melodic pattern of keystrokes? George Winston, playing his recent winter concert here at Augusta College, couldn't complete a single selection without bobbing his head (and neither could members of the audience). Who hasn't fallen prey to the insidious disease themselves while stopped at a traffic light? We've all seen it; we've all done it (though some are less likely to admit it). So, what is it and why do we do it?
To the uninitiated, headbanging seems almost infantile in procedure, a simple nod of the head, exaggerated and repeated endlessly. But to the aficionado, it is a matter of style and technique. The basic nod is the root of all headbanging and its many versions. Of course, the given prerequisite for any of the many variations is rhythm, which may exclude some from the practice; good balance is extremely helpful, as well, although not necessary. The basic nod can be performed while standing, walking, reading, talking, or from just about any position by simply nodding yes in time to the music. Here it should be noted that headbanging without music is fruitless and will make some people question your stability. The advantage of the basic nod is mainly its portability. It can literally be done anywhere, and because it doesn't involve the body in any way, it allows for the simultaneous performance of other tasks such as washing dishes or doing homework. One problem, for those with long hair, is the nuisance of hair repeatedly flying in the person's face. This can easily be avoided by tilting the head to one side in the "Slant Nod" position.
Many of the different techniques are simply alterations of the basic nod. One is known as "The Top," started by Jason Newstead of Metallica. As he plays, Jason leans over his guitar, bending at the waist until he is practically parallel to the ground. He then spins his head wildly, his hair flailing side to side as well as up and down. This has the effect of adding a little body motion to the nod. That pesky hair problem is absent, too, the hair swinging around his head instead of in his face.
"The Sway" involves gentle rocking of the shoulders as one nods. This mode was popularized by Stevie Wonder and is one of his trademarks. "The Sway" should not be attempted with faster paced music, however, as dizziness and loss of balance may occur. Another deviation can be created by altering the intensity of each nod. This is most common among violinists and other orchestra members who accentuate strong notes with sharper head motions, using smoother nods for more elegant portions of the piece they are playing.
Probably the ultimate is the "Full-Body, All-Out, Caution-To-The-Wind, Can't-Stand-Up-Afterwards, Easily-Adapted- For-Group-Use Headbang." As opposed to the others, balance is definitely not a prerequisite for this one. To execute from a standing position, the left foot is slid forward (right foot for left-handers). Leaning forward, the person almost assumes a runner's stance, feet spread and the majority of the weight on the front leg. The main point with the "Full-Body Headbang" is to embellish the head motion as much as possible. To execute skillfully, the banger must move from the waist, in contrast to the nod where the focal point is the neck. The biggest advantage is that many people can line up, if they are coordinated, forming a headbanging "chorus line," truly a sight to behold. Common examples are Warrant and ZZ Top. The above technique requires a great deal of energy, and so should not be done for extended periods of time.
The complex styles prevalent today started as something simpler, a tapping of the foot, a slight sway, anything that could be used to remind the musician of the rhythm and cadence he or she should follow. Bobbing the head was also considered a natural means of marking intervals. As early as the Beatles, calmer, more subtle, forms of head motion can be seen amongst the band members as they played. As music (specifically rock music) became more distorted and frenetic, so did the movement of the artists. Stars such as Hendrix, Morrison, and members of Led Zeppelin began to flail about onstage, reflecting the violent upheavals experienced by rock and the world. Soon, the audience began to mimic the players, and concerts became rituals of motion, the singer/musician speaking to this followers via music and moves, and the congregation responding in kind. Then came Thrash.
Spawned in the fiery furnace of disco hell and teen angst that we call the Seventies, thrash, also known as speed metal, burst onto the music scene with violence and force, annoying parents who had grown used to the sounds of Zeppelin and converting restless adolescents everywhere. Groups with names like Megadeth, Slayer, and Testament produced songs like "Anarchy in the U.K.," "Peace Sells, But Who's Buying?" and "Blitzkrieg." Where previous music had feared to tread, Thrash was a runaway locomotive, barreling past the unseen barriers of time, harmony, and often taste. With speeds of over 180 beats per minute, or three taps of the hand per second, this new form of expression (some hesitated to call it music) was impossible to dance to. As naturally as complex human beings evolved from muck and one-celled amoebas, so did headbanging rise from the ashes of rock as we know it. In answer to the call of the new, heartfelt violence came the equally heartfelt and emotional response. It became known as headbanging because of its striking similarity to repeatedly knocking one's head against a wall. As it rose in popularity, much of the civilized world became engrossed with trying to understand the phenomena. Movies were made (The Metal Years), interviews were conducted (most notably with Lars Ulrich of Metallica and Dave Mustaine of Megadeth), and research projects were mounted exploring the nuances of our generation's great discovery. Metal had become such an integral part of our culture that probation officers began the process of De-metalling, wherein violent offenders are stripped of Thrash records, spiked bracelets, and other objects related to the Metal movement (Pinnichio, Metal Years). What we have managed to learn is nothing compared to what we have yet to discover.
What it all boils down to is expression: "Headbangers are a Rock & Roll reaction. The headbangers of the eighties just make it a little more pronounced" (Cooper, Metal Years). Metal is the media by which artists vent their frustrations on an unsatisfactory world, while headbanging is the medium of response for those who agree. Some enjoy it while others loathe it. Some long for it while many do not understand it. Whether we like it or not, headbanging is a valid and even necessary part of our society, a way to express ourselves. And self-expression is something everyone can understand.
Work Cited
The Decline of Western Civilization: The Metal Years. Dir. Penelope Spheeris. Incl. interviews with Alice Cooper, Dave Mustaine, and Daphne Pinnichio. New Line Cinema, 1984.