by Niklas Göransson

In the early years of Petrified ‘Zine, Jon ‘Thorns’ Jamshid carried conviction as sharp as any blade – each page cut with purpose, honed by principle, and wielded without apology.

JON JAMSHID: My father has a PhD in physics and another in astronomy. In 1990, after receiving a job offer, he gave my brother and me a choice: stay behind in Kansas or move to Florida and start fresh. Figuring we’d be thirty minutes from Tampa – real underground scene, metal all the time – I immediately said, ‘Let’s fucking go!’

Though isolated in small-town Kansas, Jon’s early exposure to metal was anything but provincial. Discovering MÖTLEY CRÜE and W.A.S.P. sparked a fire that quickly grew more intense, fuelling his immersion into underground culture – tape trading, devouring lyrics, and writing to bands.

JON: When I moved, a whole crew of guys from back home followed, chasing the metal scene down to Florida. At eighteen, nineteen, twenty – none of us wanted to stick around in Kansas. We moved south to start bands, get involved, and accomplish bigger things.

Once Jon landed in Florida, his first port of call was Ace’s Records. Opened around 1986 by metal fanatic Frank Dancsecs in an Oldsmar flea market, Ace’s stocked everything from classic thrash and death metal to rare imports and merch.

JON: Absolutely amazing place. I mean, David Vincent was the cashier <laughs>. I’d come from a tiny town in Kansas and now found myself in Florida discussing records with the frontman of MORBID ANGEL. Like, ‘Nah, man, that sucks – buy this instead.’ Blew my mind.

Immediately after settling in nearby Lakeland, Jon began connecting with the Floridian metal scene.

JON: Tonnes of killer bands around, and I quickly made several good friends among the local metalheads. But it wasn’t long before I realised something – hardly any of these Florida death metal guys took Satanism seriously.

Back in Kansas, Jon had surrounded himself with a tight-knit group of metal-obsessed miscreants. Isolated from a wider scene and unencumbered by adult supervision, their activities rapidly evolved from theatrical rebellion to increasingly extreme territory.

JON: There were definitely some maniacs in Florida, though. Around the time NOCTURNUS were preparing to put out “The Key”, they invited me to a pre-release show – kind of a semi-private thing. PAINEATER opened, and I remember watching their set with the SEPULTURA guys.

Brazilian thrashers SEPULTURA were in Tampa recording “Arise” at Morrisound – a studio that had become ground zero for Florida’s death metal explosion.

JON: Anyway, the PAINEATER vocalist ended up in a fistfight with the audience <laughs>, literally brawling right there on stage. It was hilarious. Went to another gig, same thing – he dove into the crowd, swinging at people. And it wasn’t just once or twice; I don’t think I ever saw them finish a full set.

In the Petrified: Under the Full Moon anthology, Jon singled out EULOGY as another local act with something distinct to offer besides generic death metal.

JON: Most Tampa death metal bands had that polished Morrisound production, but EULOGY veered off in a more Satanic direction. Their whole vibe – vocals, riffs, energy – was far more intense and aggressive than anything else coming out of our area.

 

By 1992, Ace’s Records had become a cult shop known well beyond Florida. Labels, bands, and fanzine editors from all over began submitting promotional material – demo tapes, flyers, and ‘zines.

JON: Frank, the guy who ran Ace’s, knew I was deep into underground metal, so whenever I came in, he’d hand me free fanzines. Two really stood out: Comatose, edited by the MASSACRE vocalist, and the second issue of Darkness Zine – from Finland, I think?

Darkness was actually a German fanzine; however, #2 featured Finnish bands such as IMPALED NAZARENE, BEHERIT, and BELIAL. Incidentally, this was the same issue through which Danny Lilker discovered the second wave of black metal.

After reading the BURZUM interview, Jon wrote to the band’s mastermind, Varg Vikernes.

JON: To my surprise, he replied straight away. Unlike Quorthon, Grishnackh’s (Vikernes) letters were long and detailed, all handwritten. His correspondence was consistently informative – scene updates, band recommendations, and so on. Euronymous was similar, though he used a typewriter.

Jon began corresponding with Euronymous in early 1991, around the same time the MAYHEM guitarist opened his Oslo record shop, Helvete.

JON: What struck me about Euronymous was how professional he always came across. Every letter had a Helvete masthead – very formal, clearly thought-out. I also wrote to EMPEROR; Samoth told me I was the first person from the United States to contact him, which I found pretty wild.

 

In the Petrified anthology, Jon pinpointed the exact moment that inspired his decision to become a fanzine editor.

JON: Honestly, that whole story is kind of embarrassing. Back in Kansas, metalheads looked up to me as the main underground guy. But after moving to Florida, nobody knew who I was; I’d go to shows and just blend in. One night, I saw Mike Browning walking into a venue, and people were literally lining up to shake his hand.

As a founding member and drummer–vocalist of MORBID ANGEL from 1984 to ‘86, Mike Browning performed on “Abominations of Desolation”. After leaving, he had a brief stint in INCUBUS before co-founding NOCTURNUS.

JON: Observing him, I thought, ‘This guy helped build death metal. What the fuck have I done? Nothing. I know a lot about obscure metal. So what? Who gives a shit?’ That’s when it hit me – it wasn’t about recognition, but contribution. People admired Mike not because of his fame, but because he left a mark on the scene.

Where were you career-wise at the time?

JON: I was in college, working toward a business degree. I’d planned to graduate and just live a normal life – end of story. But seeing Mike Browning made me stop and rethink everything. I realised that in order to become someone in this scene, I’d have to quit talking and start taking action.

Do you really think you’d have had a normal career trajectory without this?

JON: A hundred percent; that feeling lit a fire under me. I wanted to create a legacy for myself – something people could look at and say, ‘This guy, Jon Jamshid, helped shape black metal.’ Everyone has ideas and ambitions, but most never act on them. Then they spend their entire lives in regret.

 

Wasting no time – in spring 1993, the day after his Mike Browning revelation, Jon took the first fledgling steps toward carving out a name for himself.

JON: I didn’t sleep at all that night. Just lay there, restless, pissed off at myself. Once the sun came up, I grabbed this old 1950s typewriter my dad had given me and started writing to bands. As interviews came back, I slotted them straight into the ‘zine.

Jon’s first interview was with BURZUM, conducted in May 1993, two months after the release of “Aske”. The EP cover famously depicted the ruins of Fantoft Stave Church, burned the previous year, igniting a wave of black metal arson. By that point, at least seven more Norwegian churches had been torched – all unsolved.

The Petrified piece also included previously unpublished lyrics for BURZUM’s self-titled debut from the year before.

JON: When Grishnackh sent his answers, he told me, ‘Print these lyrics. You’ll be the first.’ He also told me the police were preparing to arrest him again. I asked, ‘If you know they’re coming, why not get the fuck out of Norway?’ But he refused. I didn’t get it – still don’t. It seemed like he wanted the publicity, the attention.

A few months earlier, in January 1993, Vikernes had invited journalists from Bergens Tidende into his home for an interview, casually admitting to church burnings and even hinting at murder. The police arrested him that very day, only to release him shortly after due to a lack of evidence.

JON: He said, ‘I probably won’t be able to correspond for a while – can you make some BURZUM shirts?’ I agreed. His next letter included the design. Grishnackh told me, ‘I don’t need anything in return’, then asked, ‘Do you want to release the debut on cassette, too? Just send me fifty copies.’ Of course, I jumped at it.

 

While figuring out how to print merchandise and produce quality cassettes, Jon worked on the first issue of Petrified. The issue was assembled sequentially, page by page, resulting in the somewhat random layout of reviews and interviews.

Besides BURZUM, Petrified #1 featured interviews with SAMAEL, ABIGAIL, UNCANNY, and ARGENTUM. The latter was a relatively obscure Mexican black/doom band based in Monterrey, Nuevo León.

JON: That story’s actually more interesting than you’d expect. My mom’s side of the family is from Monterrey, so whenever we visited, I’d dive into the local tape-trading scene. It was massive – bootlegs, demos, whatever you could imagine. Anyway, I really liked a local band called TOXODETH.

Thrash veterans TOXODETH formed in 1984, eventually releasing their album “Mysteries About Life & Death” through Wild Rags Records in May 1990.

JON: I’d brought along “Mysteries…” on one of those trips. My cousin saw it and said, ‘Hey, I went to high school with their guitarist.’ I was like, ‘You’re fucking kidding me.’ He goes, ‘No – wanna meet him?’ Next thing I know, I’m at Raúl’s place. Total metalhead, every inch of his walls covered in German thrash posters. He told me about ARGENTUM.

After starting out as BURIAL and releasing a self-titled tape in 1990, all five members rebranded as ARGENTUM and recorded their debut demo, “Matter Misericordiae”, in May 1993.

JON: I tracked down the demo, reached out, and went to see ARGENTUM rehearse. I was seriously impressed. It wasn’t standard death or thrash; the music had a unique atmosphere, weaving in all kinds of influences. Plus, the guys were deeply committed to underground metal. The vocalist even corresponded with Euronymous – he showed me a bunch of their letters.

 

The reviews scattered throughout issue #1 cover bands from most corners of the world – but what stood out to me was the impressive number of Swedish death metal demos Jon had somehow accumulated.

JON: Do you remember NECRONY? They were featured in Comatose #2, so I wrote to them. The drummer, Rickard, sent back a shitload of flyers from different bands. I contacted every single one and ordered maybe twenty Swedish demos, which I started reviewing for the ‘zine.

The only Florida band included was ACRIMONIUM, whose demo received a glowing review. Listening back to it, I couldn’t quite pinpoint what set them apart from their peers for Jon, so I assumed they were personal friends.

JON: Actually, we weren’t. Funny thing is, I couldn’t even tell you now what ACRIMONIUM sounded like. At the time, I’d lock myself in my room – door shut, blinds drawn – and just absorb the music. Whatever it made me feel, I wrote down. Maybe I should revisit that demo and figure out what struck me so strongly back then.

Leading up to the first issue, Jon attempted an interview with Tampa death metal titans OBITUARY.

JON: The members flat-out told me they were mostly into country music and only did OBITUARY for money. That wasn’t just disappointing, it felt like a slap in the face. Here I was… my entire life, identity, everything revolved around metal – and these guys didn’t even care. I walked away from the interview.

 

Another skill Jon had to master as a fanzine editor was layout. For the first issue, he physically cut and rearranged the pages using scissors and tape.

JON: The first ten copies looked awful; you could clearly see tape marks on every page. But as I duplicated the ‘zine, each generation lost a bit of quality, gradually fading those lines away. Honestly, I liked that. I wanted a raw, messy, unpolished fanzine to reflect the spirit behind it.

Did you draw the logo yourself?

JON: Yeah, I sketched something quickly, planning to have a friend turn it into a proper logo. But I started getting anxious about delays – worried it would hold things up – so I just slapped my rough pencil drawing on there. That’s why the cover looks unfinished: because it is.

Once the content began coming together, Jon struggled to find a suitable cover. One night, he saw on the news that a local house was on fire.

JON: I drove over immediately, arriving just as the roof caved in. The building was still smouldering when I started taking pictures. Cops stood outside, grumbling, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ <laughs> That became the cover for Petrified #1; it served as my tribute to the Scandinavian church burnings. I wanted the ‘zine to reflect a genuinely extreme take on metal – musically and ideologically.

Petrified #1 was self-published in August 1993, limited to just one hundred copies.

JON: I’ll always be proud of that first issue. Nevertheless, if you go back and read those interviews now, they’re super basic and would definitely be considered controversial today. Being offensive wasn’t the point, though – it was about pushing things as far as they could go. No filters, just extremity for its own sake.

 

Jon and Varg kept in touch after the interview. Just before the agreed-upon BURZUM shirts were printed, Vikernes reached out to request another design.

JON: Grishnackh was set to appear in some black metal segment on Norwegian television and thought it might get international exposure. He said, ‘Print a hundred of these, and send me one’, then provided the template: long-sleeve shirt, BURZUM logo, and a big swastika with an eye in the centre. So, I did.

Full Moon Productions officially launched in late 1992, initially as a mail-order operation. The label’s first original titles were BURZUM and EMPEROR T-shirts.

JON: For a while, I struggled to figure out where to get them made. Eventually, I found a place called S.E.O. Sports: a Christian company, of all things. So, I show up and hand over this fucking swastika design, plus EMPEROR shirts covered in a big pentagram. They were pissed – but greed prevailed, and the merch was printed.