Literally no one has visited this still-new site yet unless said visitor was using some weird anti-tracking thing I didn’t know was possible during a time when most people have been stuck in walled algorithmic gardens so long they forgot the internet experience was supposed to be choose your own adventure, so much of these words feel in vain, but if you’re here and you just want it quick: I am biased when it comes to this band but, if this band interests you at all, this is your sign to see them live. That’s it, you don’t need to read any further.

Oranssi Pazuzu played Roadburn in 2025. While live video is not usually the best choice to experience music, I usually check in on Roadburn-specific sets, and I checked in on theirs.

I started to type words about it then (the first paragraph below) but inspiration hit me mid-thought. I could have let it be, but it’s hard to let all that satanic vibe alone. Writers gonna write. Unedited beyond adding the link, this is what came out:

That live interpretation of “Valotus” (~22-31 mins of this video) is something. It’s jarring on album. Would imagine hearing it for the first time live is very “???”. “Is this what it’s like to be in a scanner?” says guy on second-day acid before printing a TPS report from his maw.

…and it’s just pages and pages of “666 666 666…”

…

Jeff begins to panic, embarrassed at his local interruption of social decorum, and tries to grasp the papers that spill from his face. They float through his hands, glimmering in the strobing lights as gravity and the force of 3000 breaths seem to take them… but they are not real to anyone but him, and Jeff unintentionally slaps the back of a patron in front of him. Oh. Oh. Sorry! I’m sorry. More 666-filled papers fall between words. “MOTORHEAD” back patch turns, wondering what the fuck is going on behind him. I’m so sorry. Paper. Another paper. Motorhead nods and rolls his head back to the stage. Oranssi full-body screams something about planting native trees and giving your mom a call in Finnish, probably. Jeff’s face burns from the horror of having become satan’s xerox machine in public again. He wonders, should I just leave? Someone taps him on the shoulder. “You okay?” he hears, but he’s afraid to look. He already knows it’s a trap. This is just like the last time. He throws his eyes to the floor with urgency, curling his chin down and stopping the paper factory. Don’t you dare. “You need some water, man?” Don’t fucking do it. Stare at the floor. Stare at the floor. Motorhead’s shoes shift their weight over an imaginary paper. “Come on, let’s get you some water…” the taunting voice continues, pulling his sleeve. No, I’m fine! Jeff’s reaction to the stranger’s touch is enough to pull his eyes to the right, where The Creature promptly demands the full force of his attention, fully against Jeff’s former will. Taking but the briefest pause of victory, It then cracks Its own mouth open, burning Jeff in cruel sonic light. Motorhead nonchalantly wipes a bit of sudden sweat from his temple as Jeff’s soul is taken, raped from his body, pulled into the blinding white void. Everyone continues staring at the stage, unaware of the trick they’d just been played, and Oranssi whisper-yells something about the importance of separating your recycling, probably, sending a wink in the direction of The Creature.

I (finally?) saw them live, and I’ll be, it’s almost like I speak Finnish.

My subconscious mind caught “Valotus” way before my conscious mind woke up to its arrival. I know because my mood shifted from I Am Present, Yes, to “teehee, side… effects” after noticing that the main noise on stage was coming from the keyboards on the sides of the stage. The song then began to build into something recognizable, and even for my inability to tell you exactly what I’d heard so far even though it was all quite familiar to the point of wondering if it was a best-of set that specifically targeted me, my conscious brain suddenly woke up: “oh! Satan is coming to take our souls!”

And so it was delivered. All the prior thought trails about wondering if they’d even be allowed in the US mixed with “it’s pretty funny that they let them in, this music sounding as it does, at a time like this in this country” and flipped around to “I wonder if people walking by on the street think this venue is having a very loud exorcism.” The smirks. The giggles. Am I the only one who finds pseudo-satanic things hilarious? No, but yeah… All that christian-based brainwashing I witnessed and being bullied for saying the F-word and having normal human boundaries I was willing to fight for circa age 8 onward really makes one appreciate some theatrical devil worshiping. Hey look, it’s me on a Tuesday, according to the uptight, misogynistic, control freak fuckwads of yore. I’m here for the sonically violent soul ascension.

Is the song, or any other, actually about these concepts? I couldn’t say. Even translating the lyrics, hmm, well, there’s a horror meets sci-fi vibe there, but it’s not saying what comes to mind first. The vocals and feel of the music come across as dark, brooding, lost in space stuck with an indescribable monster on the ship, sick in a way that will never heal. What’s literally being said is similar to that, even if not exact. But the presentation, the sound of the music itself, takes me to the source of their name, of devils and demons and otherworldly creatures, and hmm, not sure it’s there in those words.

Right away I was a bit thrown by how black metal-forward they were live. The music on album is still like a wall of sound and chaotic, sure, but is produced with more of the detailed psychedelic sounds pushed in view. It was harder to hear the shifts I do at home that cue the song is changing direction. I borderline abused their 2020 album, Mestarin Kynsi, and have listened to the newest one enough in recent times, so it was odd that I wasn’t always able to keep track of where I was in the song live and essentially be told how much my brain has latched on to keys over other instruments. For my history of making fun of keyboards on stage (old timer note: their soundcheck was an entirely reasonable time! holy shit! professionalism is neat!), that was a strange realization. On stage all were prominent, visible, heard, but eyes usually went to guitars and vocals. Once I realized this was how it was going to be, lol bye brain, no bouncy ball to follow along for you, we’re just going for this ride. I kept no notes, took no photos, closed the door on trying to figure anything out, and it was what it was.

This is what setlist.fm says they played:

Bioalkemisti
Muuntautuja
Kuulen ääniä maan alta
Uusi teknokratia
Voitelu
Hautatuuli
Valotus
Ikikäärme
Oikeamielisten sali
Vasemman käden hierarkia

The final song was an encore. I went on a complete mental vacation and could not place it. Was this old or new? It felt vaguely familiar, but it should. Yes, I see, 17 minute runtime, no wonder my synapses stopped firing placement on this one. Part of me wants to blame age or a decade suffering consequences, but I’m pretty sure even an enthusiastic 25 year old me would have been resistant on that much song, and 15 year old me would have wondered what was wrong with “music” people, unaware I’d become the thing. Was it 17 minutes live? It was a while for sure. Have I said it was cool yet? Like people interested in Oranssi Pazuzu need to be told what’s is or isn’t cool… Who cares? Sir and/or ma’am, my soul got eated by The Creature today, that’s good enough.

Behind the scenes (this is a good spot for you impatient “I thought this was a review, not a diary!” types to heed the first paragraph and leave), this was the first live music I’ve seen in actual person in a very long time. The last band I saw in person was High on Fire. I still remember that show as being fantastic, and it’s carried through the void of cruel dementia, my cat dying, the pandemic, my health going to shit, my mom dying, near-miss homelessness, narcissistic spirit-stomping men, all the way through the other side of much tedious life noise I’m so fucking sick of dealing with. Once I’d moved even further from the source, I didn’t know if I’d ever see a show again. Was this facet of my life just plain over and I was in denial? Who the fuck am I even, without it? I’d get to thinking and remember things like when I had to miss Heilung because of my mom, after missing so much already because of that situation getting worse and worse, and then the pandemic happened and what now? I already thoroughly distrusted humanity before this ever turned into diseases and politics; I can’t do it, y’all. I got offers to join humanity again, but I knew coming back wasn’t going to be on anyone else’s terms, anyone else’s idea. My schedule, my body, and my ability to deal with myself and the world on whichever specific day would have to tell me what the fuck and when the fuck.

There were a few “that makes sense” moments to return, but only just recently did I have an inkling that it would be this band. I knew it was different – not a hopeful mirage – when I prepared my bag and checked to make sure I had earplugs and they weren’t expired. Never made it all the way to earplugs before (I always kept a few in my bag back-when). But I couldn’t be sure. I’ve had anxiety attacks before shows I never went to before, and who’s to say how much that just had to do with my life then. Maybe if I got dressed and conquered all to even leave the house, I’d change my mind on the way there and end up someplace else. Maybe I’d wake up with yet another brutal headache. I’m going through it hormonally these days and that could surprise me in some new fashion. Hell, I haven’t had a series of hot flashes or one of the intense ones in several days, which is really fucking weird considering the onslaught just prior, and quite telling that hormones have kicked back into gear and period is on its way. Hey bitch, you’re months fucking late. Hmm, this would be a fun place for an immaculate conception joke tied in with all that 666 talk upstairs, but the real joke here is that I’m already (low growl) satan (devil horns) (drinks ancient wine) (leather jacket cracks) (grimace) so no Rosemary’s Baby situation for me. But it’s certainly a christmas miracle I did all I needed to do, wasn’t suffering beyond the usual terrible anxiety, left the house, and arrived where I meant to be.

One then asks if, after all this time, it was worth it. It’s hard, for my history, to drum up hype about these things the way someone who’d only been to three concerts in their life before might. I also didn’t know who Oranssi was until they became a client in 2018 and wasn’t able to really put in the effort to listen to them until the 2020 album, so I don’t have a potential of decades of history there to cause a nostalgic conniption the way I might for, I dunno, Tool? And then there’s just me anymore, which maybe could be changing or maybe me crying every time someone talks about the lunar flyby is a fluke. A month ago we went to the moon, you guys!!! There was an eclipse and you could see a bunch of planets from the dark side and then we came back and everything was so cool and omfg!!!! And we’re going again! I see I can, in fact, experience untainted wonder and joy this decade. The glimmer of hope for the future is still there. It is still possible to achieve a positive mental state about a thing and maintain it longer than five minutes. But getting excited about live music stuff is still a lot more of a journey than it was a decade or two previous. I now know my back is going to hurt 10 minutes in, and my legs are going to go soon after, and the headache that comes on during and/or after (this time: both), and the fucking lights I made fun of in my prose, and crowds, and venues, and what time when where what, and the literal journey there and back that is longer and more expensive than it ever was. I’m in awe that some people within my scene somehow manage to attend multiple shows a week sandwiched between long and tedious journeys to get there and back. WTF do you mean you didn’t eat or sleep today, TOO? AND you partook in whatever festivities?! Meanwhile if I don’t get 7 hours and at least 400 calories before I leave the house to simply check the mail, lol f u enjoy your punishment. And count tomorrow out, no plans, just recovery. What did I even do? Nothing. Existed. Two days after the show I woke up with another multi-hour headache, because that’s what I get for trying.

But the question was: was it worth it? To watch their vocalist scream into the crowd as “Valotus” hit its peak moment? Yes. Yes it was. Whether this is truly the end of years of frustrated setting-aside of live music or just another moment in time isn’t yet clear and won’t be for probably another year, but boy did that single moment wrap up my absence nicely. I ended 2020 raving about this band and nearly a quarter turn of Saturn later I got to see the results.

I’m sorry, I’ve made it serious. I swear I was stifling out-of-place glee through that whole song and thinking of none of this short of the expected upcoming glass-breaking soul ascension.

Of course Winamp just threw music at me to remind me about having a laugh attack the first time I gave a certain band we’re not supposed to forget a chance. Other, similar memories come to mind. I seem to have a history of laughing at aggressively serious things. I was just thinking of a time I saw said band at Satyricon the other day, of hitting glee state and on the way out being perplexed at a mysterious white powder on a toilet seat. I wondered if it was cocaine, and if so, who the fuck wastes that much cocaine? Besides Elizabeth Wurtzel and QOTSA, I know nothing of these things, but I do know these things cost money. One can’t really explain those Satyricon bathrooms, though. Perhaps the former tenant really needed to baby powder their crotch at 1am. Alas, Star Theater rivals with its incredibly moist seats and floors, eventually punctuated with in-toilet blood while I’m like, well, guess that tracks, given the exorcism I just witnessed. Sign outside door: This isn’t your mom’s house. Please take your miscarriage with you, Susan. And now toilet blood is amusing.

Oh, I forgot to say that I took the earplugs out. I had them in for Wayfarer but the pros and cons added up towards more pros of hearing the room as-is without them. Maybe the wrong move for the number of times I got pierced in the ear with shrill noise, but for all the time of nothing live at all and me already knowing ASL, fuck it. Whatever frequency I might have lost I probably already lost a long time ago.

Current state of ears: hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. DAE tinnitus?

Before I wrap, I should return to the “peopling” thought I almost touched on then skipped past. The best way to put this is that I am historically a 9pm to 6am shopper because I can in no way emotionally deal with the horrors of a grocery store during business hours. I will absolutely take a couple of stray weirdos and startling raccoons on my walk home over anyplace jam-packed with people asleep standing up. I don’t have the patience. It’s overwhelming. I can’t focus. I get so mad. I return home irritated, frustrated, anxious, on edge, burnt out, and probably pissed off that I’ll have to do it again. It’s hard to forget since it’s a forever issue, but I got so used to the relative quiet of my new location that somehow I didn’t know it was a bad idea to visit a busy shopping center at 2pm last year, and what a reminder. No wonder I’d listen to Conan on volume 11 before I’d have to leave the house that one year. No wonder I couldn’t sleep after work when I was a server.

I reflect back to all the crowds of my concert history and wonder where the mad is. It’s mostly a lot of “welp, that’s what I get for not being six inches taller”. Maybe the mad is twisted into just plain nervous anxiety, as I do remember my sleep schedule always getting destroyed by concerts since I couldn’t sleep until past dawn nearly every time even if I went to bed by midnight the nights before. But AT the show? Since I learned I was firmly in camp metalhead and stopped trying to push through “nicer” music that is populated by assholes, people themselves largely haven’t bothered me. There’s a routine of the thing, unsaid expectations of behavior, most people here “get it”, and it feels right and fine. Someone eight feet tall stood in front of me, oh, well, it’s a doom show, everyone here is eight feet tall but me, shoulda fought for the front if I wanted to see. There’s only been a few times I’ve gotten irritated at crowds, and really, it’s more about individuals than the fact that the crowd exists.

I was still worried. With the previous humans-at-2pm trips I’ve taken causing my knitting to unravel mixed in with frustration about specific people I’ve known up close near this scene, I was expecting to find the whole crowd thing an unwanted experience. And yes, it still sucks I’m shorter than the average patron. But the crowd experience was just… yes, and? Okay? Why was I worried about this? How did I not know it would be fine? Evidently going too long caused some of those shapeless cosmic beings to appear real. To be fair, I’ve met some difficult individuals here, but I more or less know what their ilk looks like and can choose not to engage. But lately I’d rather not even have the potential. Alas, not a single one was present. It felt much more like it was for me towards the beginning of my journey, when I was an anonymous, faceless blob in the crowd. Thank fuck. I know I didn’t press the hard reset button here – I definitely have advantages I didn’t have 20 years ago – but enough distance seems to have been good for the ol’ tension.

And the crowd itself was like it always was, give or take the details. Hyoo-mans doing the hyoo-man thing. I knew the show would sell out the day beforehand when I checked to see ticket numbers, which it did early in the day, and I knowingly endured like always with these things. It was great for the band and added up to a “nothing” for me on a personal level.

With that knowledge out of the way, maybe that means I have one less thing causing mental chaos so I can get to another live thing sooner rather than later. I don’t know what that is, couldn’t even hazard a guess right now with my unpredictable health situation, but I’d love to be able to get back to these types of experiences being the norm rather than the exception. Here’s hoping that $5.50 gas price (WTF) goes away by the time I get there.

With me finishing this post almost two days later, I’m feeling tired, my finger is fucking killing me, and I’m burnt out on myself here and wondering if this even worth posting at all. But I did the thing. I’m glad to know that the past six or so years of listening to this band probably a bit too much will likely continue and hope their tour onward provides a tiny outlet that many of us darkly creative ‘muricans need these days.

Bonus factoid: I made the mistake of telling someone I saw a live band and the “what band?” question led to this post. What clarity other people’s unintentional ignorance gives us sometimes.