As a lifelong HIM fan, I can easily recall their album cycles. I remember the fervor surrounding Dark Light, the premiere of “Wings of a Butterfly,” and Ville Valo’s new haircut (fangirls wept). Listening to Venus Doom brings back memories of dissecting the album on the fan message boards, debating which song was the best. Yet, HIM’s final era feels like a blur. I don’t remember much about the release of Tears on Tape. No memorable performances or interviews come to mind. I remember struggling to buy the Metal Hammer fan pack edition of the record at work and being anxious about interviewing Ville Valo for the first time. He called me “Darling.” I still swoon thinking about it. When I finally got the album, I played it for weeks, waiting for the moment when it clicked with me. It never did. I didn’t think it was bad, just decent. Then I forgot about it and moved on, already looking forward to HIM’s next record. What I didn’t know was that Tears on Tape would be their final album.
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A blistering guitar riff filled my ears. Pummeling drums echoed throughout my head. Sultry baritone vocals singing about a love that ached like death took the song home. My friend sat in front of me with a goofy grin waiting for my reaction. “I love this song,” he said. “It’s good, right? They’re a Finnish band called HIM.” We typically spent mornings before 10th-grade history ranking our favorite Green Day songs and debating if they or Blink-182 were the true kings of pop punk. Then one day, it was all about HIM. He started wearing their shirts every day. He obsessed over their music videos. His notebook was slowly taken over by poorly drawn Heartagrams. He spent days taking me through their discography in a desperate attempt to convert me. Nothing really clicked. It’s not that I didn’t like them. They were just okay in my book. But, he didn’t give up convinced he would find the song that would turn me into a fan.
Another morning before history. By now we had the routine down: he’d scroll through his iPod searching for the perfect song, hand me the headphones, and hit play. But this time, something changed. A serene swirling piano greeted me followed by energetic percussion and gentle acoustic guitars that took the song to a different level. The crooning baritone I’ve heard many times before came in sounding sweet and gentle. It was unlike anything I’d heard before. I looked at my friend. He grinned. “The Sacrament” was my introduction to Love Metal and the song that made me a fan. 20 years later, it remains my favorite HIM song.
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