In a realm where the scale of influence far outweighs commercial success, Bathory rank among the most important European metal acts of the 80's and 90's. Few originators of the extreme metal arts evoke such hushed, reverential tones of admiration as Sweden's Bathory, who along with England's Venom and Switzerland's Celtic Frost can lay claim to seriously affecting the evolution of the genre over the next two decades. Essentially a one-man operation helmed by the mysterious Quorthon, Bathory's development from the rawest form of embryonic Black Metal to thrash, death, and back to Viking-themed Black Metal, which, in its modern incarnation owes more to Bathory than possibly any other group. The Swedish born multi-instrumentalist Quorthon, also known as Black Spade and/or Ace Shoot (his real name is still the subject of debate) formed Bathory in 1983 with sidemen Hanoi (bass) and Vans (drums). These would soon be ejected, however, just as soon as they'd completed work on two of the best tracks heard on 1984's now infamous Scandinavian Metal Attack compilation. Influenced by every form of speed metal known to man at the time, which admittedly wasn't much, Bathory soon staked a claim as Scandinavia's answer to Motorhead and Venom (from whose song "Countess Bathory" they attained their name). And, like Venom's early work, they too were challenged by the downright primitive recording conditions of Heavenshore studios (actually a converted car garage and storage space); limitations which inadvertently set the rough, uncompromising template carefully scrutinized and accepted as gospel by future generations of metal musicians. 1984's eponymous debut and its like-minded successor 1985's, The Return were so inaccessible, so unprecedented in their abrasive anti-commercialism as to be ahead of their time, carving a niche all their own in the quickly developing sub-genre of black metal. Interestingly, the fact that they rarely performed live (never after 1985) and these recording provided almost no information about Bathory's constituents — which later, aside from main man Quorthon, briefly included various bassists and drummers going by the monikers Kothaar and Vvornth, respectively — only added to their cult-like mystique over time. Even this promising start was not enough to sustain Bathory's momentum within such limited stylistic boundaries, though, and, having exhausted the possibilities rudimentary Black Metal with the first two albums, Quorthon realized that a creative facelift was now necessary. Sure enough, over the course of their third and fourth efforts, 1987's Under the Sign of the Black Mark and 1988's Blood Fire Death, Bathory re-focused its interests, away from rock and roll-based arrangements and towards a more purely European aesthetic. Besides incorporating symphonic elements drawn from classical music into their black and death metal, Quorthon's pseudo-band slowly abandoned most of the rote satanic/Christian-bashing lyrics of yore to embrace pagan themes and Viking mythology of his ancestors. This anthemic approach culminated in what many consider to be Bathory's finest hour, 1990's landmark concept opus Hammerheart. Not so much a quantum leap, the album actually represented an entirely new proposition in comparison to the band's humble origins, and provided the archetype for 1991's equally revered Twilight of the Gods. Confirming the impact of this vision, these two works helped ignite a surge of patriotism through music for countless Scandinavian youths to celebrate their cultural heritage. Sadly, while commendable for encouraging the development of a self-contained and highly inventive local scene (featuring Mayhem, Emperor, Darkthrone et al), this movement also sowed the seeds for future acts (as ghoulish as they were absurd) of hateful vandalism and outright murder at the hands of its most extreme contingent. Ironically, Quorthon himself had by now grown quite tired of the stereotypes and artistic trappings of the revolution he'd helped galvanize, announcing that Bathory had reached the end of the road. Feeling uninspired to write any new music in that vein, Quorthon spent the next two years reflecting on the past instead, by compiling the Jubileum Vol. 1 & 2 collections. When his desire to compose finally did return, the music he came up with was so unlike anything ever released under the Bathory name, that he chose to release 1994's simply named Album under his own chosen name. Filled with surprisingly straightforward alternative rock, the record nevertheless revitalized Quorthon's interest in heavy metal, and Requiem (released later that year) saw a return to the simple, brutal thrash metal of yesteryear. Subsequent efforts gradually upped the ante once again, with longer songs and more complex death, black and even industrial metal elements cautiously added to the mix for ‘95's Octagon. 1996's ultra-doomy, Conan the Barbarian-inspired Blood on Ice was actually recovered from previously abandoned sessions from seven years earlier. In fact, the extensive liner notes penned by Quorthon to explain the long overdue album's release were among the first to reveal significant amounts of information about the band's until then very murky history — almost to the point of upsetting older fans' long-held theories and expectations of their hero. 1997's second Quorthon set, the double disc Purity of Essence clearly served as a repository for non-Bathory-like ideas, and the third installment of the Jubileum best of series followed a year later, seeming to close yet another chapter with an extended layoff. Inevitably, however, Bathory returned in 2001 with Destroyer of Worlds, which inaugurated a new phase characterized by a more streamlined, rock-oriented approach, while retaining the epic scope of works past to strike a mature balance. The latter inclinations were once again pushed to the fore on the twin album project Nordland, part one of which was released in late 2002, with the second arriving in 2003. Twenty years on and still as reclusive and media-shy as ever, it's difficult to imagine Quorthon ever laying Bathory to rest. — Ed Rivadavia