A HISTORY OF SATAN
IN MUSIC

Words and Collage By Rachel Rufrano, Managing Editor
The problem with Satanic rock is that it isn’t identifiable with just a Satanic symbol on an album cover. Technically, if you are a Satanist, all music is Satanic. So, instead of giving you a history on Satanic music, which would probably be boring, I’ll brief you on the Satanic mythology in music. There will be a quiz.
I. The Devil and Robert Johnson
There’s only one real place to start and that’s the beginning of recorded music as we know it: The blues. For most pastors and ministers of the South, gospel was the godly alternative. Whether or not the devil was in the blues is irrelevant because the church pointed its finger at the blues anyway. It glorified sex, drugs, drinking and violence and that was enough to create its Satanic mythology; the greatest myth being delta blues musician Robert Johnson. He was the first domino in a long line of blues artists to set off rock ‘n’ roll, and the first to sell his soul.
The story goes that he had little to no talent until he walked down to the crossroads by Dockery’s Plantation where he was met by the devil in disguise—a large black man who tuned his guitar and gave it back to him. Johnson apparently had nightmares about the devil and you can hear that in songs like “Hellhound on my Trail.” His fear was real enough that he was buried in an unmarked grave. Real or not, you’ve probably heard of Robert Johnson, and I’d argue that his notoriety is due in part to the Satanic legend that precedes him.
II. SATAN BECOMES COOL
The rock ‘n’ roll music of the fifties was, of course, a communist psych-op assault on Americans, but we did our best to get rid of it—we drafted Elvis, arrested Chuck Berry, blackballed Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard became a preacher, and we said “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” to Eddie Cochrane and Buddy Holly. But the devil was back in the sixties and he brought marijuana and psychedelic drugs with him. The more older people railed against rock and roll, the cooler it became. Aleister Crowley was on the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and The Rolling Stones came out with Her Satanic Majesty’s Request. Okay, maybe the Charles Manson thing wasn’t cool, but he was hardly a musician, especially when compared to The Beach Boys, so we don’t need to talk about him. Then came the sign of the horns—a two-fingered hand gesture so cool, that every musician of the era was running to claim as their own. There’s Dio, who says he saw his Italian grandmother use it, Gene Simmons, who claims he got it from his childhood heroes Spider-Man and Doctor Strange. You can even see John Lennon doing it on the cover of Yellow Submarine. What’s interesting is that none of these musicians were really promoting Satanism so much as they were being shocking and unpredictable. And, well, cool.