If you’ve read my work here or followed me on social media, you already know I’m a diehard fan of Glenn Danzig. For me, Misfits, Samhain, and his eponymous solo act are the unholy trinity where punk, metal, and goth intersect. All three bands have been part of the personal soundtrack of my entire life.
For over 40 years, Danzig’s influence has been felt across countless acts in all genres of rock and metal, from Metallica to My Chemical Romance.
Part of his appeal has always been his unapologetic bravado and complete lack of concern for how he’s perceived. It’s liberating, sometimes hilarious, and the epitome of cool. But when that attitude edges too close to something truly dark, like the casual use of Nazi symbolism, the conversation becomes more complex and nuanced.
On a recent West Coast tour, one of Danzig’s tour t-shirts (seen in this Reddit post) stirred up some controversy. The design featured the classic Danzig logo at the top and tour info at the bottom. In the center was a cartoonish, anime-style rendering of Glenn himself, complete with hands ablaze. At first glance, it seemed like standard-issue merch for longtime fans. But behind the cartoonzig sits a symbol that raised serious red flags: a sonnenrad.
For those unfamiliar, a Sonnenrad is a circular symbol with ancient European roots.
It’s controversial now because the Nazis appropriated it and made their own in an attempt to create a mythologized Nordic identity. It is now widely recognized as a hate symbol. The trajectory of this symbol closely mirrors that of the Swastika, which also began as a spiritual emblem before becoming permanently associated with genocide and fascism. As recently as 2022, a racist mass shooter in a Buffalo, NY, grocery store had the emblem plastered across his armor.
Both symbols indeed existed long before World War II. But at this point, trying to reclaim them from their toxic legacy feels less like historical revisionism and more like willful ignorance. No one with even a basic understanding of history is wearing a Swastika or sonnenrad out of innocent admiration for ancient geometry.
So, did Glenn Danzig know what he was doing when he approved that shirt? That’s the question.
Glenn isn’t just a rock icon. He’s a collector of horror ephemera, comic books, and the occult. He’s spoken many times about his love of religious history and obscure literature. One now-infamous video clip from the 1990 Danzig VHS features him flexing on his personal library, complete with him specifically mentioning his copy of The Occult Roots of Nazism. Whether that moment was meant to be serious or camp is up for debate, but one thing is clear: he has read about this stuff. He knows the deeper meanings behind these symbols. If he read even a chapter of the aforementioned book, he would know exactly what a sonnenrad represents.
And yet, despite all this, I still can’t say for certain that Glenn Danzig is an actual Nazi or sympathizes with Nazi ideology. I hope he doesn’t, and everyone I’ve spoken with who knows him personally generally claims he’s a reasonable (albeit eccentric) guy who has never shown any adoration of Nazi practices. The usage of the emblem on the tour merch could very well be an example of edgelord marketing. But I also can’t ignore how unsettling it feels to see that imagery presented without context or condemnation.
Pop icon Shakira faced similar backlash in 2018.
One of her tour necklaces was pulled for bearing an uncanny resemblance to a sonnenrad. In her case, the design by Live Nation was based on pre-Columbian artwork. Once complaints rolled in from Germany (where the symbol is illegal), the item was removed, and both Live Nation and Shakira’s representatives issued an apology. The accountability was swift and efficient.
That was nearly a decade ago, and the conversation around Nazi symbolism in pop culture has only become more urgent since then. The issue only escalated when incel tech-bro turned United States financial figurehead Elon Musk openly utilized a Nazi gesture twice during Donald Trump’s second inaguration.
Problematic celebrity Kanye West, known for his recent pro-Nazi rants on social media, even briefly sold Swastika-adorned merchandise on his official website. Danzig’s tour operation is obviously much smaller than Shakira’s, and his celebrity relevance is nowhere near the stature of Musk or West, but the stakes remain the same. No artist or public figure today can claim ignorance of how these images function in the real world. Not in 2025, not in the United States. Not when hate groups openly use these symbols as a form of endorsement.
As an artist firmly rooted in the ’80s and ’90s, Glenn Danzig has long lived in that space where shock and rebellion once reigned supreme.
The same could be said for artists like Trent Reznor, Al Jourgensen, Slayer, or Lemmy Kilmister. Reznor famously recorded The Downward Spiral in the house where Sharon Tate was murdered. Jourgensen built a persona around chaotic self-destruction. Slayer’s “Angel of Death” tackled Josef Mengele with disturbing detail. Lemmy collected Nazi memorabilia but always insisted it came from a place of historical interest, not ideology.
The difference is that, over time, many of these artists clarified their intentions. Reznor later expressed regret for recording in that house. Jourgensen has become more of an eccentric uncle figure than a lightning rod of controversy. Hanneman has gone on record multiple times saying Slayer’s song was a history lesson, not glorification. Lemmy’s friends and bandmates consistently defended his anti-fascist beliefs.
Glenn Danzig, on the other hand, has remained silent.
There’s been no comment about the t-shirt, no statement about the design, and not even a whisper of acknowledgment. Maybe he hasn’t seen the backlash. Maybe he doesn’t care. Or maybe no one around him is willing to speak up. This brings us to the larger issue. Which is worse: For an artist to be completely unaware of how Nazi symbolism lands in today’s world, or to be so insulated by a team of enablers that no one tells them it’s unacceptable?
For longtime fans, it’s hard not to feel conflicted. We’ve already endured a lot. I would argue that the tame persecution is part of the fun of being a fan. The last 15 years of Danzig’s musical output have been uneven at best. His foray into film-making produced two baffling horror flicks. His lyrics, once menacing and cool, now feel cringe-worthy. Not to mention, some of his on-stage rants about vaccines and immigration often come off as tone-deaf and off-putting as misinformed relatives on social media. But none of that comes close to the impact of embracing or ignoring a symbol of white supremacy.
As someone who writes about music, fandom, and culture, I’ve had my own personal reckoning with this. Not long ago, I praised a particular artist in a review only to discover later their social media was full of misogynistic and politically questionable content. I took the article down and made a public statement about how I was and always will be against toxic rhetoric. The removal and statement weren’t performative but came from a sense of being accountable for my actions. I felt guilty for not doing my homework and for giving that person a platform. It wasn’t even about the artist so much as about not holding myself to the standards I believe in.
That moment taught me a valuable lesson: If we don’t call this stuff out, we allow it to spread. Even worse, we normalize it.
This brings us back to Glenn Danzig. I’m not suggesting a boycott. I’m not calling for canceled shows or record burnings. Those gestures rarely accomplish anything meaningful – just ask Morgan Wallen. There’s a possibility that many people hadn’t even heard of the Sonnenrad. People far smarter than me have discussed separating the art from the artist for most of human history, and no one has found a reasonable solution that fits every listener.
But silence is not an option.
If you’ve spent your life defending an artist, you have a responsibility to hold them accountable when things go sideways. And right now, as a writer who has written countless Danzig-related pieces, that responsibility is mine.
I still love the Misfits. I still love Samhain. And yes, despite everything, I still love Danzig. But I can’t lie and say at this very moment that it feels okay to willfully support an artist when the artist out there shilling images of hatred. Especially when the rebuttals of “Metal has always been edgy“ and “You’re just too soft for punk” are exhausting and have been exhausted. Ultimately, it’s not cool, and it doesn’t add to the mysterious gothic lore of the brand. And while rock music has always flirted with controversy, I cannot and will not excuse the use of Nazi imagery. Not from Kanye, not from Elon, and not from Glenn Danzig. And if we don’t speak up now, history has shown us exactly where that crooked road leads.
For more information on the history of the Sonnenrad and other symbols of Neo-Nazism, please visit the Anti-Defamation League.