Could Heavy Metal Be Devotional Music?

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Chemical Collective or any associated parties.

I had a recent interaction with someone at a local event who said they were a musician who made “medicine” music and “devotional” music, which seemed to be in line with the concept of a Kirtan (a song or chant with roots in Vedic traditions, often accompanied by Indian instruments). I was very open to hearing about the kind of music they made, but when they returned the question and I mentioned I was in a band which has its roots in heavy metal and psych rock, this person’s response seemed to be overwhelmingly negative – almost like they had a visceral reaction to me saying the word “metal”.

I really wanted to say “well, it’s not like I’m forcing you to listen to it right now”, but I was struck by the sense that I’m often one of the few people (if not the only person) within these New-Age/psychedelic spaces who enjoys heavier music. This isn’t to say that I don’t see where softer music has its place, and having previously trained as a sound therapist, I very much appreciate the need for people to have this softer experience. For me personally, though, I find these kinds of sonic experiences strangely anxiety-inducing, almost like the softness is overtly trying too hard to make me feel calm, with a sense of the softness not being powerful enough to overcome the potential to resist it. 

Whenever I’ve felt anxious and tried listening to a meditation, it just doesn’t seem to have the desired effect – almost the opposite happens, and then I feel like I’m not “doing meditation properly” because I’ve failed at being calm. I’ve slowly realised over a long period of listening to heavy music (two decades of consistently going to gigs) how much I love the effect that it has of just blasting away any anxiety or depression with the simple power of the riff! 

The guitar riff forms the most important part of any metal song, with it being the defining melodic element that is repeated over and over again. These repetitive riffs provide the foundation for my favourite band, OM, with bassist Al Cisneros in a 2007 interview saying:

They are constantly playing; I never feel like I create a riff, rather, the musician calls it into the open. The mind and the outer external instruments (nervous system, limbs, bass guitar, drums, etc.) are just the bridges over which the thoughts and vibrations are carried.

This way of thinking about the music in a more spiritual sense, where the riffs are being channelled rather than being created, has informed the devotional nature of OM’s music. This makes them the perfect band to do a deep dive on for this article, but I’ll also be exploring some related bands as well as looking at the roots of their music. 

Heavy Metal Influences

OM evolved out of the band Sleep, which formed in the early 90s with very clear influences from Black Sabbath, and became one of the notable pioneers of the ‘doom’ metal scene, a subset of heavy metal with slower, thicker, lower, and heavier sounds than other metal genres. Black Sabbath were arguably the band that popularised this doomy, slowness, where heavier, more distorted guitar sounds with lower tunings were introduced into rock music in the late 1960s. The birth of heavy metal has also been attributed to bands such as Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple, which also emerged around this time, but it was Black Sabbath who really pioneered this sound and carried it on to what most people would consider to be heavy metal today. 

Sabbath and other bands such as Blue Cheer, who had more of a psychedelic blues style about them, influenced offshoots of heavy metal such as stoner rock/metal, which, given the name of the genre, was also influenced heavily by the consumption of cannabis. Sleep have been one of the most popular bands to traverse the stoner/doom universe, releasing notable albums Holy Mountain and Dopesmoker, with the latter being described as “a 63-minute magnum opus dedicated exclusively to the sacrament of marijuana [which] is not just the pinnacle of the goofily named stoner metal genre…it’s inarguably one of the most important and influential albums of all time.”

The idea of this album being a “sacrament of marijuana” lends itself to the more devotional essence of the heavy sound, and the music of OM has certainly progressed more with the spiritual aspects, utilising the concepts of repetition in an explicitly spiritual way. In a conversation with collaborative artist Six Organs of Admittance, Al Cisneros said:

Through repetition there’s an established current of frequency that at a certain point becomes self-propelling like an orbit. That takes place of course in all of art, but repetition is like a great healing tool, it’s a great practice, because be it an internal meditation or an external song process, you go into that peeling away of those external layers.

The Emergence of a Minimalist Ritual

The meditative nature of OM’s music arose out of their formation in 2003, after Sleep’s dissolution in 1997, with drummer Chris Haikus joining Al Cisneros in creating a duo (now currently a trio) with a more stripped-back sound. Their name is derived from the sound that embodies the very essence and natural vibration of the universe, and this name has allowed them to embody more of a devotional way of creating music that has its roots in heavy metal. It is a name which reflects the intent of the band, rather than just providing a nice aesthetic with Hindu or Buddhist sentiments. 

The word “Om” signifies the primordial sound from which all other sounds emerge, with it being the symbol of the past, present, and future. All things are manifested from the original sound, and it is nothing less than the supreme consciousness, where there can be nothing greater or more important than Om. The idea of chanting this monosyllable is to attain the supreme goal of merging with the absolute, and I believe this is the intention of OM’s music – the contrast of being birthed from the genre of heavy metal, towards a more spiritually-minded, sacred, and devotional territory. 

This contrast is clear on the debut album “Variations on a Theme”, as well as preceding albums. “Conference of the Birds” (taken from a passage in the Qur’an where Suleyman and Dawud are said to have been taught the language of the birds), “Pilgrimage”, and “God is Good” all have spiritual themes which become more apparent, with the latter having aptly named songs such as “Meditation is the Practice of Death”. The last two albums see the replacement of drummer Chris Haikus with Emil Amos, along with the inclusion of keyboardist Tyler Trotter, to now create a trio with more of an expansive sound. 

Repetition as Spiritual Technology

I might be biased in my agreement with Al Cisneros’ views on repetition being a healing tool, but the reason why OM are my favourite band is because I can just listen to them over and over again and not get bored! Even more so, the sensation I have is like I’m listening to the riffs for the very first time! I’ve lost count of the listening hours, and OM has often been a strong foundation for the beginning of my solo psychedelic trips (although I’ve yet to have enjoyed the experience of combining psychedelics with their live music, which I’m sure would be pretty epic!). I feel I’m able to engage with spiritual sounds that are conducive to psychedelics, while being bolstered by the power of the riffs, and essentially allow myself to enter into a deep trance. This allowing is key for reducing resistance to the heaviness, where you give yourself over to the experience and engage with the repetition as the sonic technology to enter into these kinds of mystical states.

The cyclical bass riffs, which go on for long periods of time, rhythms which loop back around, and sparse vocals might be having a similar effect to chanting in different mystical traditions, such as shamanism, Sufism, or yogic spiritual practice. 

This kind of repetition can provide a useful container for internal work, whether that’s while consuming psychedelics or engaging in different practices such as yoga or meditation (which might have more connection to a devotional way of engaging with the world compared to everyday life).

These types of practices can induce mystical experiences or altered states of consciousness, and I feel like this has been an explicit intention with OM’s music. I don’t think it’s just a coincidence that they make the kind of music which is conducive to mystical experiences, and it seems like more bands are starting to utilise similar kinds of sonic technology to manifest the more ritualistic and devotional aspects of music.

Music as a Sonic Pilgrimage

I recently spoke to Seb from the band Wyatt E., who has followed a similar path to OM in taking heavy sounds and transmuting them into something that is more spiritually focused. With the tagline “We write Music for Gods”, Wyatt E. takes you on a journey into the past, which leads to “ancient Gods, forgotten cities, and lost civilisations”, where it feels like you’re entering into a carefully curated ritual, rather than just listening to music. When asked about his own spiritual relationship, Seb responded:

I’m not much of a spiritual person in my private life. But when we started this band and began building the concept around it, it felt like we were tapping into some form of spirituality. In a way, it felt like we could sense the shape of God, whatever that means.
And just to be clear, like I said, I’m not a spiritual person at all. In fact, I don’t have much respect for monotheistic religions in general, and even less for modern cults in particular.
Still, I really had this strong impression that music could lead us toward a kind of enlightened path.

Their music often utilises a lot of drone and extended repetition, with a clear focus on creating something more akin to a ‘sonic pilgrimage’. As Seb put it:

That’s literally what puts us in motion. Our music is meant to be the sound of a historical exile, which, through today’s lens, can be interpreted as a pilgrimage. And the trance-like repetitions are, musically speaking, the most natural process to reach that state.

I first saw Wyatt E. live while on a small dose of LSD at ArcTanGent festival in 2024 after my bandmate (who knew my taste in music very well) insisted that we check out their set – I’d not heard of them before, but I had faith that my bandmate wouldn’t steer me wrong, and they turned out to be one of my favourite bands of the whole weekend. 

Dressed in black robes and masks, two drummers utilised the heavy sounds of tom drums in a shamanic fashion to structure the sonic space, along with swirling guitar tones, repetitive riffs, and deep rhythmic bass lines. Their music pulled me into something that felt more like a ritual than just a live performance, and I was utterly captivated by the feeling that this band had tapped into something from a higher source. This might have been just something that my altered state of consciousness was projecting onto the music, but I was really impacted by their performance, with the sense that I had stumbled upon a ritual that was perfectly timed for tripping on acid.

When speaking to Seb more about the spiritual aspect of the band, he said:

Within the conceptual framework that surrounds our band, the phrase « we write music for gods » felt like the most fitting way to describe what we were doing. In that sense, I see myself more as a pure musician opening doors to places where people can find whatever they’re looking for.

Thinking about music in this way, as something which can facilitate a mystical or spiritual experience, lends to the idea that utilising these different concepts of drone and repetition can allow for a kind of ‘psychoacoustic purification’. The way in which we perceive the sound can have a direct impact on our psychological state of being, where it acts as a facilitator to bring us closer to these mystical states. Could this kind of music create a similar space to more traditional ritual settings? 

Sacred Space in Sound

Looking back at OM’s music, the interplay between the bass, drums, and mantra-like vocals creates space for the more spiritually driven minimalist sound to emerge slowly and with clear intention. The space that gets created, often with a clear absence of sound, becomes part of the ritual almost in a similar way to pauses between breaths during meditative practice. On the song “At Giza” from their second album, there’s a relatively clean-sounding repetitive bass line that plays in the middle of the song for a while without any beat, leaving long gaps to let the mind slowly anticipate what’s about to come. The drums join in sparsely, with a lot of use of the ride cymbal to maintain a steady pattern, before dropping out to leave the vocals and bass to continue, and then joining back in to carry the song towards its crescendo of distorted repetitive bass lines and a beat that becomes much heavier. 

This sacredness in sound with OM’s music draws inspiration from pioneers such as legendary harpist, pianist, and spiritual jazz visionary Alice Coltrane, who utilised sound in a similar way to create music very explicitly connected to her interest in yogic practices and other forms of spirituality. The album “Journey into Satchidananda”, released in 1971, makes references to the Hindu deity Shiva, as well as Middle Eastern culture, while having the presence of a drone throughout, created by an Indian classical instrument known as a ‘tanpura’. 

Other influences such as that of Ravi Shankar, the world’s best-known expert of Indian classical music in the second half of the 20th century, can be heard frequently in OM’s music (probably not so surprising given their name!) – I even remember having quite a strong trip on 2C-E many years ago where I listened to “Chants of India” by Ravi Shankar, and I started laughing, saying out loud something to the effect of “Ooh Al Cisneros, how cheeky…just lifting stuff straight from Ravi”.

I don’t think OM would take offence to this, and there’s clearly an explicit intention to create a spiritual container for the experience with the use of their lyrics, as well as their sound.

Esoteric Lyrics and Mystical Language

The last three albums “Pilgrimage”, “God is Good”, and “Advaitic Songs” all contain imagery related to the Bible, Hinduism, and Buddhism, with a focus on symbolism, rather than any specific narrative, with songs such as “Unitive Knowledge of the Godhead”, “Cremation Ghat”, and “Sinai”. This symbolism and imagery allow the mind to enter into more of what feels like a ritualistic experience, with the words providing invocation rather than storytelling. Like a monk reciting scripture, Al Cisneros’ vocals deliver powerful catalysts to launch the listener into a more devotional way of engaging with the lyrics. 

On “Advaitic Songs” (named after the Advaita Vedanta philosophy, which focuses on the concept of non-duality and the oneness of Brahman), the track “State of Non-Return” lyrics include the lines:

From the rounds of rebirth
He arrives onto the deathless
Light bores through the adjunct worlds
The soul-galleon prevails

These words are explicit in the idea of returning to the oneness, and being delivered over a distorted repetitive riff provides a lot of power in the felt sense of the knowing and understanding of this state of non-duality. It’s almost like the lyrics are the signifier and the music is providing the essence, which is what I think makes the music of OM unique in its ability to utterly captivate with a relatively minimal set-up. The lyrics aren’t used randomly, and it’s clear to see where the band have really taken the time to explicitly position their music in these more devotional ways of engaging with it.

Weight, Devotion, and the New Sacred

Could the music of OM and similar sounding bands provide a new way of engaging with devotion in a more secularised world? Perhaps this kind of music could lead people back towards a spiritual path (although we should be careful not to talk about it in a similar way to something like Christian rock music), and certainly witnessing bands like OM live in concert can have profound impacts. After seeing them live for the first time, my way of listening to music is different, where I now seem to follow bass lines rather than the drum beat, and this allows me to find more flow and joy within my listening experience. 

The weight of the heavy metal ancestors is being carried through their music while forging a more intentional sound, allowing for embodied devotion to be experienced through the interplay of different dynamics and lyrical themes. There is a growing desire for more of this spiritual connection, and often it can be hard to find, let alone have the opportunity to embody it through listening to music. Listening to a band like OM might be the one thing that provides this connection, allowing for some form of devotion to be maintained within the scope of enjoying a band’s music. Some people might listen to OM and find the repetition boring – but for those who enjoy it, it’s nothing less than sacred.

Oli Genn-Bash | Community Blogger at Chemical Collective | linktr.ee/oligennbash

Oli is one of our community bloggers here at Chemical Collective. If you’re interested in joining our blogging team and getting paid to write about subjects you’re passionate about, please reach out to Sam via email at samwoolfe@gmail.com