Photo by Uncle Allan
When Oslo’s Inferno Metal Festival and Conference gathered for its 2025 edition on Easter weekend, it did so with a massive chunk of its heart and soul missing.
Longtime IMC founder and organizer Jan-Martin Jensen died in February after a short, hard-fought battle with cancer. In addition to being the backbone of the festival since its inception in 2000, he held nearly every job in the Norwegian music scene and his work as a buyer and concert promoter in 1990s Oslo gave space for the underground extreme music scene to thrive.
If you’ve listened to or seen any Norwegian heavy music in the last 30 years, Jan-Martin Jensen touched your life.
Photo by Uncle Allan
His absence was felt in every corner of the festival, from the mainstage at Rockefeller Music Hall and the various smaller venues around Oslo, to the conference panels every afternoon. For over two decades, music industry professionals and extreme metal fans alike became used to warm smiles and friendly conversation with Jensen over good food. For the first time he wasn’t there to experience it, to disappear behind the scenes and evade credit for how much he was actually doing.
But if he was absent in body, Jensen’s spirit very much thrived during those four days. Artists from Gaerea to Behemoth to Rotting Christ took a moment to acknowledge their friend during their sets, to remind the crowd that no one – bands or fans – would be standing in the venue if not for him. Toasts were shared in neighboring bars, and an endless supply of stories about his kindness and his ability to see the best in people spilled into the Nordic air.
“Jan-Martin was kind, honest, and hardworking to the core–always positive, always an optimist,” Inferno Metal Festival said in a statement after his passing. “[He] was a true gentleman, someone who always looked out for those around him. He treated every artist and event with the same level of care and respect.
“Jan-Martin Jensen will be deeply missed. His passing leaves an immense void. We will forever remember him for the incredible person he was and for everything he did for us.”
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The night before the festival, friends, family, colleagues, acquaintances and first-time festival attendees gathered at SALT on the edge of Oslo’s fjord, for a celebration of Jensen’s life.
With members of his family in attendance, hundreds of photos were projected on a screen, set appropriately to the soothing tones of Cannibal Corpse and Mayhem. Hundreds of images showed him smiling, drinking wine, eating food, attending numerous festivals and being surrounded by the people that loved him so much.
Born in Bodø, Norway in 1963, Jensen worked throughout the Norwegian scene as a concert organizer, sound technician and band manager before moving to Oslo in the 1990s. After co-founding Zone Productions, a record and booking company that fed life into the music scene across the country, he started the club Mars. Early Norwegian bands that he opened a space for included Mayhem, Immortal, Emperor, and Dimmu Borgir, among others.
Though Mars closed its doors in 1999, Jan-Martin went on to launch Radar Booking, which touched every corner of Norway’s live music scene and beyond. There’s hardly a band he didn’t book, and he brought the likes of Manowar, Cannibal Corpse, Devin Townsend and Leprous to large Norwegian audiences.
It was Radar Booking in partnership with Borknagar guitarist Jens Ryland that launched Inferno Metal Festival.
Cadaver’s Anders Odden, longtime friend of Jensen and fellow Inferno organizer, spoke to the crowd on two separate occasions, sharing his thoughts about how Jensen wasn’t just a kind and welcoming individual, but how he found ways to make people’s ideas work no matter who they were.
“He was a yes person,” Odden said. “He believed that anybody with a good idea – however weird and little it was – let’s just go for it and see what happens. He was always the guy in the background, and he believed that being different, doing different things… it was important for you. It was important for him. ”
Rotting Christ by Uncle Allan
Odden recalled being a 16-year-old in 1989, playing a show at a squat house called The Blitz where Jensen booked bands. The venue had a reputation in the media as a place where punks would riot and fight with the police, so Odden’s parents insisted on accompanying him to the show.
They were so out of place that people in the venue mistook them for police officers. Odden was mortified, especially as he watched his older bandmates legally buy beer.
When Jensen figured out they were the parents of one of the performers, he got them “waffles and some coffee,” and escorted them to a corner to enjoy the evening. Odden doesn’t even remember the gig, the rest of that night fading into time and memory, but thanks to one of his last visits with Jensen, he remembers that.
“That was Jan-Martin for you,” he said.
But more than anything else, Odden remembered Jensen’s absolute trust in the people around him, and his ability to bring their ideas to life.
In 2008 when the pair were brainstorming daytime activities for Inferno, Odden floated the idea to bring visitors to historical and infamous black metal sites around Oslo in a bus.
“Wow, that’s a great idea,” Jan-Martin said. “You should host it!”
Odden was terrified. Not just about figuring out where all the stops should be, but also about what he was going to talk about for three hours. But Jan-Martin told him he trusted him to do it and encouraged him to get it across the finish line.
The first run of the The Black Metal Bus ran until 2012, then returned when Inferno came back from a couple of postponed years due to the pandemic.
“Let’s do that bus thing again,” Jensen casually said to Odden.
Odden didn’t think people would even be interested in any more, but tickets sold out so fast they added another one. At Inferno 2025, Odden had a sold out tour booked every day of the festival.
“That’s the spirit I remember from Jan-Martin,” he said. “He would just take anyone’s idea and make it fucking happen. That’s a magical trick.”
***
Roadburn Festival, like Inferno, has cultivated its own community and revelry that happens every year in Tilburg, Netherlands. While the festivals usually happen within a few weeks of each other, this year they both fell on Easter weekend.
Roadburn Artistic Director Walter Hoeijmakers couldn’t be there in person, but he recorded a message to those gathered at SALT to say how inspirational Jan-Martin Jensen was to him, and how the time they spent together was in pursuit of their mutual passions.
“We spent a couple of times in Iceland together,” Hoeijmakers said. “Where a lot of people were sleeping in the middle of the night, Jan-Martin and I were in damp basements and abandoned pizza parlors watching young and upcoming Icelanding bands; and were inspired (by) what we saw.
“I am very grateful that I knew him. I will miss him, and I will cherish the beautiful memories that I have and I sincerely hope that Inferno will continue in the spirit of Jan-Martin and that you will all celebrate his legacy and his life, and that his spirit will live on in your hearts and your minds.”
Finally, before the floor was opened to anyone who had a memory to share, Kathrine Shepard, the multifaceted musician behind blackgaze/post-metal project Sylvaine, came to the stage.
After sharing how much Jensen had encouraged and supported her through her career, she sang a song off her Nordic folk EP Eg Er Framand called “Eg Veit I Himmelrik Ei Borg.” As her hypnotic, acapella vocals filled the room, there vibrated a spiritual connection that united the sons and daughters of Norway and touched everyone else born on different shores.
“It’s the last song that I got to sing for him,“ Shepard said. “He had written himself out of the hospital to come to this show of mine, which was incredible, of course. Is anyone surprised by that? It was just such an honor to be able to sing for him one last time.
“So this one is for you, Jan-Martin, wherever you are. Thank you so much for believing in me.”
Then, one after the other, people came on stage to share their stories of Jan-Martin. One after the other, the same words of warmth, family, acceptance, tireless and devoted work were repeated.
Stories on how he gave everyone a chance to prove themselves, and saw people for who they really were, even if they didn’t quite know it themselves yet. Stories how he could take any idea, no matter how impossible or outlandish, and turn it into a reality. Stories about how festivals, nightclubs, and even entire bands’ careers wouldn’t exist if not for his steadfast demeanor and ability to get things done.
Despite his physical absence, Jan-Martin Jensen was felt in every corner of Oslo this past Easter weekend. Inferno Music Festival 2025 was not only a reminder of what Jensen built through hard work, kindness, and belief in others, but that his legacy will always live on as long as there is live extreme music in Norway.
Rest in peace, Jan-Martin Jensen.
