In which the Devil gets all the best tunes

As a fan of both heavy metal and horror movies since my pre-teen years, I've long been fascinated by this storm-in-a-teacup cultural phenomenon. that was the 'Satanic Panic.' To an Australian raised in a part of the world where no-one worries about much at all, it seems like a uniquely American response. Is this because the USA was founded by Puritans and, in more recent times, has given evangelical Christianity more cultural influence than elsewhere?

Full disclosure: I was raised in an Anglican (Episcopalian) family and went to church regularly in my youth. I did so with little in the way of faith because it was part of my Sunday routine. Nowadays when I go to a service, it's out of respect for the traditions my mother held dear and as a way to remember her.

In some ways my parents' brand of Christianity was and is quite progressive and left leaning. Mother Of Mine was never much concerned about what I watched, read or listened to and I don't recall being told off about the posters on my bedroom wall or the presence of Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath, KISS, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest et al in my record collection.

Dad, a man of the cloth no less, sometimes looks askance at me even today and intones warnings about excessive morbidity when I enthuse about my latest short story idea. His early attempts to persuade me to listen to Wagner went nowhere, but neither parent feared for my safety or my soul as I explored the darker side of human nature through music, film and fiction.

Had I lived in middle America or the heart of the Bible Belt, it's fair to say my tastes would have caused a great deal more controversy. From age ten onwards I read about Tipper Gore and her PMRC and the alleged influence of Metallica, Slayer and Ozzy on a number of teen suicides and wonder how on Earth people (American people in particular) could take all this so seriously.

As the years wore on I began to research more widely. I learned about accusations of Satanic ritual abuse (SRA) in books like Michelle Remembers (1980) and read of many similar claims throughout the decade. These, and the hysterical media coverage that surrounded them on talk shows like Geraldo, persisted despite a total lack of evidence, and were eventually all but debunked by FBI agents Robert Ressler and Ken Lanning after years of investigation.

The stories persist, however, and are today almost exclusively the domain of online conspiracy nuts. I have one cleaner who firmly believes everything is controlled by the Illuminati and that there's an army of Nephilim frozen under Antarctica. Another takes the Bible as literally as his work roster and regularly lectures me about opening myself to Satanic influence when I leave my yoga exercise diagrams or meditation notes on my desk. I do so purely to get a rise out of him and it works every single time.

Thirty years on from the height of all this hysteria, it's not uncommon to see people from religious fringe groups distributing leaflets outside concerts by 'controversial' acts or to hear them calling for Harry Potter books to be banned. They don't attract as much attention as they used to because, as Stephen King says, 'the world has moved on', but they still make a fair bit of noise. Is any of it warranted or are they simply trying to drum up publicity for their own beliefs, some of which are more distorted and potentially harmful than the 'evil' they decry?

If you look past the name and image, Black Sabbath's early lyrics are quite cautionary. Terry  'Geezer' Butler, who wrote the bulk of them, grew up a good Catholic boy and considered training for the priesthood at one point in his life.  He also read too much Dennis Wheatley, who was himself one of the most socially conservative authors in a very reactionary genre. The situation Ozzy describes in the song that gave his old bandmates their name and their musical calling card for nearly fifty years is straight out of a nightmare, and his anguished cries of 'oh no, no! Please God help me!' make it quite clear whose side he's on. For all his offstage mayhem and controversy, the man baptised John Michael Osbourne is a member of the same church I was born into and prays before each show.

Similarly, when Iron Maiden released The Number Of The Beast in 1982 and toured the US supporting Scorpions, Rainbow, Judas Priest and 38 Special, they earned more than their fair share of protesters and column inches. Singer Bruce Dickinson tells the tale of a man who literally took up his cross, a lifesize replica of the one Christ carried all the way to Calvary, and lugged it around the venue's car park for the duration of the concert. Unlike the original, however, he'd fitted a small tail wheel for convenience. If the Son Of Man had thought of such a luxury in 33 AD, I doubt he would have asked to stop for a rest on the soon to be Wandering Jew's doorstep.

It's true that the title track and album cover evoke a particular kind of image. The lyric, on the other hand, is just the opposite. Inspired by one of bass player and founder member Steve Harris's legendary bad dreams, it also recalls Robert Burns's narrative poem Tam O' Shanter. By no means is the song's narrator pleased to find himself in the midst of such devilry. Like Sergeant Howie in The Wicker Man, a film about which Maiden would write a similar classic two decades later,  he is determined to  reassert the dominant moral paradigm set his captors back on the righteous path. Had he chosen not to meddle in things he found frightening, he wouldn't be so tormented by 'the evil face that twists my mind and brings me to despair.' 

Like most moral fables, The Number Of The Beast is a story of actions and consequences. Is it really that different from the fairy tales I might one day tell my daughters or sons if I ever take sufficient leave of my wits to sire any? Evangelical Americans and Mary Whitehouse types miss the point of this altogether and probably always will. Rock and roll has been a threat to public decency since Elvis was caught swivelling his hips on television and, if the alternative is the kind of world those people expect us to live in, I hope it will continue to corrupt me for many years to come.