Who Has the Biggest Bass?

Ah, the metal scene—what a wonder! A haven of freedom, creativity, and community… until you realize that for many, it’s more like a testosterone-fueled football league than a space for genuine artistic expression. Because yes, friends, there’s a reality we can’t ignore: in metal, the guys are often too busy measuring who has the fastest riff, the highest scream, or, of course, the «biggest» instrument (and no, I’m not talking about guitars) while the women are out here building support networks, hyping each other up, and making the space a little less toxic. Let’s dissect this mess because there’s a lot to unpack.

The Guys’ Competition: «Your Bass Is Smaller Than Mine»

Why do dudes feel this obsessive need to compete? Well, it all starts with that wonderful factory of bullshit called the patriarchy. From an early age, they’re drilled with the idea that their worth as men is measured by their ability to win: win in football, win in video games, win in bed (even if no one asked), and of course, win in the metal scene. And winning, for them, means being better than everyone else. Not better as in “developing artistically” or “creating something unique.” No. Better as in: “Hey, I play faster than you, loser!”

This creates some pretty ridiculous dynamics in the scene. Instead of focusing on the music, some dudes are more concerned about whether their distortion pedal has more «muscle» than the other guy’s. And the bands? Competing too: “Our last album has more solos per minute than yours,” or “We packed more people into the crappy bar gig last Friday.” All this generates an atmosphere that feels less like a community and more like a marketplace for fragile egos.

The problem? These competitive dynamics contribute nothing to the scene beyond inflating fragile egos. Oh, and they fragment the community because, of course, if you’re busy trying to outdo everyone else, when do you have time to collaborate, learn, or simply enjoy what someone else creates? Answer: never.

Women and Sororal Support: «Girl, That Riff Is Pure Gold»

On the opposite side of the ring, we have the women of the scene who, curiously enough, are more focused on cheering each other on than on comparing egos. This is no coincidence. Women have spent decades facing a metal scene that hasn’t always been welcoming to them. And instead of falling into the trap of competing with each other (as the patriarchy would love, to divide and conquer), many have decided to do the exact opposite: build networks, support each other, and grow together.

The results? On one hand, they’ve managed to create a much more inclusive environment where art matters more than egos and where things like creativity and collective effort are truly valued. On the other hand, they’ve shown that the scene doesn’t have to be a battlefield. Sororal support has a real impact: it encourages more women to get into extreme music, to lead projects, to step onto the stage without fear of being judged for not “measuring up” to absurd standards.

But Is Everything Perfect?

Well, no, folks. Let’s not get too excited. While the support among women is a breath of fresh air, it also has its limitations. Sometimes, sorority can turn into a bubble—a safe space but one disconnected from the broader scene. And while women are blazing trails at an impressive pace, the lack of shared spaces with the rest of the community (aka the guys still measuring riffs) limits the reach of what they could achieve together. Because let’s be real, a scene divided by gender will never be as strong as one that works collectively.

On the other hand, male competition, while toxic, does have some positive side effects. In their quest to outdo each other, some musicians end up pushing the technical limits of the genre. That’s fine… as long as you don’t turn your music into a soulless technical masturbation. But hey, let’s not ask for miracles.

What Do We Gain (or Lose) From These Dynamics?

What we gain from male competition is, basically, a circus of egos that can be entertaining to watch (like a Telecinco reality show) but, in the long run, adds nothing to the community. What we gain from sororal support, on the other hand, is a more inclusive and less hierarchical space where everyone can grow. The problem? While some are competing and others are collaborating, the scene remains divided, and that division limits the potential of what metal could be as a cultural and political movement.

So, What Do We Do?

The answer isn’t complicated: the guys could learn something from the women and bring their egos down a notch. Start collaborating more and competing less. Recognize that you don’t always have to “win” to be a great musician. On the other hand, women could claim the space they deserve in the general scene, breaking out of the bubble and showing that sorority isn’t just for women but a model that everyone can follow.

Because in the end, metal was born as a collective scream against the structures that oppress us. And if we keep dividing ourselves between competing and collaborating, we’re failing that original spirit. So, you know: less measuring guitars, more sharing them. Less competing, more building. And above all, more metal, less bullshit.