10 Metal Lyricists Who’d Make Great Novelists & Screenwriters
As with most genres, a metal band’s lyrics can be one of their most discerning features (even if they can’t be easily understood). Whether it’s the epic fantasy and sci-fi adventures of power metal; the poetically rustic observations of folk metal; or the enjoyably graphic violence and nihilism of death metal and black metal, nearly every style is led by superb lyricists.
In fact, many of them – such as the 10 featured below – write (or wrote) with such entertaining imaginativeness and/or philosophical richness that they’d surely kick ass creating novels or screenplays.
Rather than settle for negligible superficiality or amateurishness, the following lyricists’ words and ideas are essentially as important and commendable as the music/vocals they support. So, why not let them use that talent in other mediums?
As always, we’d love to know what you think of our picks (and your own) in the comments below!
Steve Harris (Iron Maiden)
As the primary lyricist for Iron Maiden, bassist/keyboardist/backing vocalist Steve Harris has a signature skill for penning pieces rooted in history, fantasy and religion. Consequently, his output has been – and would be – both entertaining and educational/philosophical.
For example, Harris wrote or co-wrote more than half of 1983’s Piece of Mind (which was beloved and impactful enough to get its own commemorative graphic novel in 2023). “The Trooper” is likely its biggest song, and it does a great job embodying 1854’s Battle of Balaclava (“We get so close, near enough to fight / When a Russian gets me in his sights / He pulls the trigger and I feel the blow / A burst of rounds takes my horse below”). Several subsequent Iron Maiden tracks (“Aces High.” “Lost in a Lost World,” “Alexander the Great.” “The Clansman,” etc.) also saw Harris digging into history.
Beyond that, he dexterously incorporates theology and/or fiction into Iron Maiden’s catalog. Just look at the thought-provoking sentiments of “For the Greater Good of God” (“They fire off many shots / And many parting blows / Their actions beyond a reasoning / Only God would know”), as well as the engrossing specifics of The Midwich Cuckoos-inspired “Children of the Damned” (“Now it’s burning his hands / He’s turning to laugh / Smiles as the flame sears his flesh”).
Even if he’s adapting a preexisting property, Harris is a master of making it his own and drawing us in.
Mikael Åkerfeldt (Opeth)
Mikael Åkerfeldt wears many hats in Opeth, including those of guitarist and singer. He’s also written almost every one of their songs, leading to at least a couple major reasons why he makes this list.
For one thing, his knack for literary storytelling – both in terms of plot and details – has been proven with their past concept albums (and likely will again on their upcoming 14th LP, The Last Will & Testament). The Shakespearean-esque tragedies of 1998’s My Arms, Your Hearse and 1999’s Still Life showcase this best, such as on “Credence” (“Deserted again / You speak to me through the shadows / Walking in closed rooms”) and “The Moor” (“The sigh of summer upon my return / Fifteen alike since I was here / Bathed in deep fog, blurring my trail / Snuffing the first morning rays”).
Elsewhere, though, Åkerfeldt truly has a gift for heartrending poeticisms, such as on “Patterns in the Ivy II” (“Without you, I cannot confide in anything / The hope is pale designed in light of dreams you bring”) and “Faith in Others” (“A written decree of our loss / And we carried no faith in the cross / And the cold years are coming / For the victims of a longing”).
Either way, there’s a vividness and earnestness to his writing that’d be incredible to see in a book or on the screen.
Tommy Rogers (Between the Buried and Me)
Eccentric keyboardist/vocalist Tommy Rogers was in charge of Between the Buried and Me’s songwriting since they first blew our minds with their self-titled 2002 record. Although he’s explored other topics, Rogers is known for his exceptional ability to connect metaphysical/sci-fi songs and theories within the same collection and across releases. Therefore, his creative writing would be full of clever callbacks, fascinating voyages, and mind-bending explorations into alternate states of being and consciousness.
Obviously, his biggest venture thus far has been the “Parallax” saga (which began with 2003’s The Silent Circus and seemingly concluded with 2012’s The Parallax II: Future Sequence). Revolving around the existential plights of two “prospects” floating in space, it’s packed with colorful descriptions and admissions (“Creep in before the rise of the sun / Execute a story never told / Do not think, just do / No human emotion” from “Melting City”). Naturally, he coated later LPs Coma Ecliptic and the Automata duology with similarly intellectual yet bizarre perceptions.
At the same time, Rogers’ brilliant capacity for continuity brings multiple albums full circle and reaches across BTBAM’s catalog. For instance, The Parallax II: Future Sequence ends with “Goodbye to Everything (Reprise)” and Coma Ecliptic closing lines (“My last exhale is purple smoke / Knees crash down on velvet robes “) harkens back to an earlier track (“The Coma Machine”). Plus, The Great Misdirect’s “Swim to the Moon” is related not only to the “Parallax” chronicle but also to “Sun of Nothing” from predecessor Colors.
Holy shit, right?
Ronnie James Dio (Black Sabbath / Dio / Rainbow)
Simply put, Ronnie James Dio exemplified the poignant darkness and make-believe fun of heavy metal throughout his career (be it with Dio, Black Sabbath, Rainbow, or another project). Sadly, we’ll never get to see him translate his lyrical talents into the backbone of a superb modern film, TV series, short story, or epic novel, but we can at least imagine the possibilities.
Above all else, Dio pioneered fantasy metal with his intense passion for good vs. evil, werewolves, legendary quests, foreign lands, imperial conflicts, and dozens of other mythical motivations. Two outstanding examples are “Run with the Wolf” (“By the end of the rain / The feeling’s passed again / From the things that snap and bite / An unholy light”) and “Heaven and Hell” (“They say that life’s a carousel / Spinning fast, you gotta ride it well / The world is full of Kings and Queens / Who blind your eyes and steal your dreams”).
He even dove into criticisms of Christianity on “Jesus, Mary & The Holy Ghost” (“They just showed me Mary / She was stoned, stoned, danger zone / There was nothing in her eyes / And then there, there in the air”) and being true to oneself on “I Am” (“I think I’m way outside illusion / Breaking down the door / That locked me in before”).
No matter the medium, his writing would’ve maintained that trademark balance of fantastical inventiveness and sagely messaging.
James Hetfield (Metallica)
James Hetfield has a sharp talent for exploring bleak subject matter in bluntly relatable ways (especially when it’s related to himself and to war). Thus, he’d be great at writing honest and contemplative books about the struggles of humanity that don’t mince words or avoid incendiary implications.
An overt case of that is “One” from 1988’s …And Justice for All. Although it’s connected to the novel/movie Johnny Got His Gun, its tale of a solider losing multiple limbs and abilities is distinctively harrowing and frank (“Now that the war is through with me / I’m waking up, I cannot see / That there’s not much left of me / Nothing is real but pain now”). Similarly, “Creeping Death,” “Fight Fire with Fire,” and “Confusion” also explore the physical and/or psychological turmoil of manmade or divine devastation.
Hetfield isn’t afraid to get personal, either, as he’s dug into the instability of his past on numerous occasions. “Fade to Black” even alludes to his depressed feelings about how things were going for Metallica in the early ‘80s (“Things not what they used to be / Missing one inside of me / Deathly loss, this can’t be real / I cannot stand this hell I feel”). It’s powerful stuff, and pieces such as “Nothing Else Matters,” “Frantic,” and “Master of Puppets” – as well as the foundation of 2023’s 72 Seasons – also deal with rough patches in his life.
Clearly, Hetfield’s prose would probe at our inner demons and societal woes with stinging authenticity.
Geezer Butler (Black Sabbath)
The main lyricist of Black Sabbath (for the most part, anyway), bassist Geezer Butler played a major part in the band’s association with things such as horror, the occult, adventure/fantasy, mental suffering, and real-world wrongs. Of course, there are other things he (and other writers, such as Ronnie James Dio) brought to the group, but for what we’re discussing here, those are the topics and directions that’d work best if implemented into new creative avenues.
From the jump (via “Black Sabbath,” which he co-wrote with Ozzy Osbourne), Butler displayed a gift for getting macabre material out of his dreams and curiosities (“What is this that stands before me? / Figure in black which points at me / Turn around quick, and start to run / Find out I’m the chosen one”). Elsewhere, “N.I.B.,” “After Forever,” “Under the Sun,” and “God is Dead?” also see Butler delving into religious and ethereal insights with strong details and intriguing perceptions.
Butler examined modern life, too, such as on “War Pigs” (“Politicians hide themselves away / They only started the war / Why should they go out to fight? / They leave that role to the poor”) and the biology-inspired “A National Acrobat” and “Spiral Architect.” As dark has some of his output has been, Butler’s focus on life-affirming messages (“So you children of the world / Listen to what I say / If you want a better place to live in / Spread the word today” from “Children of the Grave”) would aid his well-rounded literary and filmic endeavors.
Arjen Anthony Lucassen (Ayreon / Star One)
This might be the most obvious choice of them all given that virtually everything Arjen Anthony Lucassen puts out (under the banner of Ayreon, Star One, or another project) is centered around his own storytelling or an outside piece of pop culture/entertainment. In other words, he’s already been fashioning his own characters, plots, and settings for roughly 30 years, so it’s not difficult to connect the dots and see that he’s essentially already doing what we’re suggesting.
Aside from 1996’s Actual Fantasy, each Ayreon album is a part of the overarching Forever saga to some degree. Along the way, the series taps into medieval fantasy (The Final Experiment, Into the Electric Castle), intergalactic turmoil (01011001, The Source) and even theatrical depictions of the human experience (The Human Equation, Transitus). Furthermore, The Human Equation, 01011001, and Into the Electric Castle have already been performed on stage like proper rock operas!
Plus, Actual Fantasy and Star One’s Revel in Time base their tracks on 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Neverending Story, The Terminator, Interstellar, Back to the Future, Primer, and this writer’s favorite movie of all time, Donnie Darko (among other sci-fi and fantasy films). Speaking of that last track – “28 Days (Till the End of Time)” – verses such as “You’re all alone, sole receiver / You’re on your own, trapped in time” pinpoint how authentically yet characteristically Lucassen represents those muses.
Daniel Gildenlöw (Pain of Salvation)
For over 25 years, Pain of Salvation have been in a class all their own when it comes to Swedish progressive metal/art rock. Undoubtedly, they wouldn’t have been nearly as commercially or creatively successful without the piercingly reflective, confessional, and at times provocative songwriting of vocalist/guitarist Daniel Gildenlöw.
Most of their LPs are conceptual in one way or another, interweaving made-up tales about familial instability, psychological development, gender, romance, and other poignantly pensive observations within social commentaries about war (Entropia); the environment (One Hour by the Concrete Lake); capitalism (Scarsick); and other real-world issues. For example, “The Big Machine” finds him singing, “One’s drilling out a pipe / One adjusts the aim / One makes trigger parts / Weapons as a game” (a bold denouncement of militarism and colonization that could spur a great piece of literature or cinema).
Gildenlöw has also touched upon the endlessly fascinating – and endlessly controversial – nature of religion and spirituality (BE), not to mention as his own confrontations with health, death, love, lust, and self-discovery (In the Passing Light of Day, Remedy Lane). Just look at “Second Love” (“But now I am gone / I leave no shadow when I’m alone / I’ll stay forever in my dreams where you are near”) and “In the Passing Light of Day” (“Your eyes are still the same / Deep blue against all grey / ‘Love, don’t be afraid,’ they seem to say”) as examples of his ability to break our hearts and soothe our souls.
John Haughm (Agalloch)
Between approximately 1999 and 2014, Agalloch helped lead the American folk/black metal movement, juxtaposing brutally and beautifully rustic instrumentation with equally dense and expressive thoughts. By penning the majority of their compositions, vocalist John Haughm has revealed himself to be a deeply visual, philosophical, and literary writer whose insights and language mirrored the cold pastoral styles of, say, Cormac McCarthy and Stephen King. He’s also shown an innate knack for using profound samples from revered works to enhance the gravity of his ponderings.
In “The Desolation Song,” he admits: “Here I sit at the fire / Liquor’s bitter flames warm my languid soul / Here I drink alone and remember / A graven life, the stain of her memory.” Likewise, in “The Astral Dialogue,” he begins: “The firmament above the horizon of history / Heathen fires burn the ancestral night / Esoteric figures move across the arcane plateau / With their symbols engraved in the sky.” Sure, it’s not exactly vibrant and happy stuff, but you can’t deny how well his darkly cinematic and poetic style would work if read by a fireplace (or watched in a miniseries) on a dim winter’s night.
He’s skilled at incorporating excerpts from other media to bolster the impact of the material as well, such as with the references to 1973’s The Wicker Man and 1957’s The Seventh Seal on “Sowilo Rune” and “The Hawthorne Passage,” respectively. It’s wonderfully chilling and cathartic (provided you’re in the right mood for it.)
Devin Townsend (Strapping Young Lad / Solo)
Oh, where to begin with Canada’s favorite musical madman?
Across his multitude of projects – almost too many to count on two hands – the genre-splicing genius has run the gamut of subject matter and lyrical approaches. Be it his zany chronicles of a coffee-addicted alien puppet searching for world domination (the Ziltoid records) and a vegetarian receiving a cheeseburger from Satan (Deconstruction); his life-affirming dives into introspection and universal healing (Ghost, Empath); or anything in-between, Townsend could write just about anything (children’s entertainment, horror, stoner comedies, self-help guides, you name it.)
For example, contrast the absurdity of “The Mighty Masturbator” (“See the four-faced boy / See the man with 17 testicles / See the child stand back and look into the infinite void / See the vagina-faced lady!”) with the subtly overwhelming empowerment of “Sprite” (“Thank you for the morning and the light / But more than this / Thank you for keeping trying / Slow progress is still progress”). Sometimes, he even combines the two completely opposite approaches, such as on “Planet of the Apes”: “Way of ways, and in a way I’m heading toward the sky! / We never will die, we never know why / Just never hold back now, and I’ll be happier still! / Oh! / Everybody will know, I am so happy now! / I’ve got a little boner!”
He even gets earnestly romantic on standouts “Divine” (“Loving you is the best thing and the worst thing in my life / Loving you is entire”) and “Ih-Ah!” (“I’m so in love with you / How could I Ever be untrue? / Am I with you? / With everything I do / God I love you”). As sentimental and serious as he is silly and sick, Townsend is truly a master of all trades.
