Scands of Hope and Glory

Rising from the deepest recesses of the ‘90s Norwegian black metal scene, Turbonegro have transcended their humble origins and become a genuine international cultural phenomenon – adored by teenagers from many corners of the globe, my 18-year-old next-door neighbour included.
Though the members of Turbonegro fiercely refute any suggestion that they’re basically a joke made flesh, it must be pointed out that they come closer to being the living embodiment of Spinal Tap than any band since Venom.
Musically, they specialise in a bizarre, high-energy punk/metal hybrid, drawing inspiration from sources both wholesome (Dead Kennedys, Stooges, Black Flag) and deeply unfortunate (Alice Cooper, AC/DC, Queen). Lyrically, their output virtually defines puerile adolescent toilet humour, as indicated by their song titles (‘I Got Erection’, ‘Stroke The Shaft’, ‘Rendezvous With Anus’, ‘Wipe It Till It Bleeds’, ‘You Must Bleed All Night Long’). Visually, they resemble a Village People tribute act, all denim, moustaches and ooh-sailor homosexual innuendo.
At any rate, the band are asphyxiatingly hilarious, though probably not in the way that they’d intend. They’re genuinely admired by many of their peers: Therapy? and Queens Of The Stone Age are attested Turbonegro fans, while Jello Biafra has described their Apocalypse Dudes LP as “possibly the most important European record ever.” Their legions of European fans convene every year for the annual Welt-Turbojugend-Tage, a two-day festival in the red-light district of St. Pauli in Hamburg. While the band obviously owe much of their appeal to pure shock value, it’s impossible to refute that they clearly mean a lot to a substantial mass of people.
Lead singer Hank van Helvete has previously received institutional treatment for unspecified mental health issues, as well as managing to overcome heroin addiction by virtue of a stint working as a guide at a Norwegian whaling museum. I’d expected Hank to be thoroughly cracked and somewhat tormented: as it turns out, he’s courteous and softly-spoken.
The band was originally called Nazipenis, but thought better of it. The reason was twofold, according to Hank: “The record company pointed out that it would be very difficult to sell records if we were called Nazipenis. Also, we realised that none of us were actually Nazis. We're not in the business of hatred towards other peoples, blacks, gay peoples. We did not want to be mistaken for Nazis.”
Hank is particularly contemptuous of the Scandinavian black metal scene’s tendency towards neo-fascist and racist sentiment, as exemplified by the likes of Count Grishnakh, a gentleman who named himself after an Orc chieftain in Lord Of The Rings, and landed a life sentence at the age of 20 for killing and mutilating an ex-bandmate during a heated debate about Nazi eugenics.
“These people were losers and assholes. The people who stuck to the music, they were never into any extreme right-wing political viewpoints. We are not political. No, I think the politics are idiots.”
As for the band’s camper-than-Christmas visual image, Hank professes that: “We did that to scare off the black metal idiots, to freak them out. We've always had a gay following. I think they just love rock.”
Hank reciprocates all of Jello Biafra’s compliments, confirming that. “We've known Jello since the mid-’90s. And I've always been a great fan of Dead Kennedys.”
He thoroughly refutes any suggestion that the band consciously relies on shock effects (“If people are shocked, it says more about them than us”) and dismisses the proposition that ‘cock-rock’ is a fair description of Turbonegro’s music: “Ach no, we do not play the cock-rock. We play good testicle music and ass music.”
Indeed. Turn it up to 11, kids.