October isn’t just about pumpkin spice lattes and spooky movies—it’s the month when shadows grow a little longer, music gets a bit louder, and strange worlds collide. For me, my musical tastes usually live in the industrial realm—think Skinny Puppy and Ministry—but every now and then, I wander over into the heavy metal landscape. It’s there, among the growls and guitar riffs, that I found a zine that perfectly merges two seemingly opposite passions: wine and metal.
That publication is Blood of Gods, a brilliantly bizarre zine that smashes together death metal, thrash, and black metal with the refined and sometimes elitist world of wine. The mastermind behind it is Stacy Buchanan, a former music industry pro turned wine industry creative, who’s built a cult following by proving these worlds aren’t as far apart as they seem.
Recently, I had the chance to chat with Stacy over the phone. What followed was less of an interview and more like catching up with an old friend—a conversation that felt strangely parallel to my own life. We swapped stories of music, wine, and the shared experience of building something from scratch, driven by sheer passion.
Here’s our conversation.
Dathan Kazsuk: Talk about that spark that led you to create Blood of Gods, and how you combined heavy metal and death metal with wine.
Stacy Buchanan: To go back to the beginning, I was raised in a family with a couple of cool uncles. They weren’t authority figures—they were the fun ones who threw raging parties with hard rock blasting in the background.
That’s really where I got the bug for crazy music. I started doing freelance writing in high school and college, which led to more music work. Eventually, I worked for Century Media Records in L.A. from around 2002 to 2006, and even spent time in their German office. When that ran its course, I moved back to Walla Walla, Washington, my hometown, which had completely transformed into a blossoming food and wine destination while I was gone. I wanted to create something fun, something that poked holes in the old stereotype of wine drinkers as monocle-wearing, elitist snobs.
At first, Blood of Gods was just a joke—a way to satirize that world while celebrating it. But it really caught on, especially during those early COVID days when people were desperate for a distraction. Suddenly, folks were connecting with it, and I realized I had something special.
What it really became was a bridge between two worlds. Wine people and metal people aren’t that different—both have their collectors, their obsessive knowledge, their deep dives into producers or bands. It turns out that if you strip away appearances, they’re really similar communities.
Dathan: I love that. When I got my first issue, I immediately thought of my friends here in Raleigh. One of them, Steven, opened a death metal music venue called Chapel of Bones.
Stacy: Oh, Steven Somerville! We’ve never met in person, but we keep in touch. He’s definitely on the same wavelength.
Dathan: Yeah, when I told him I was talking to you, he got excited. I’m going to include him and Chapel of Bones in this piece so it all connects.
Stacy: That’s awesome. Walla Walla is pretty geographically isolated, so sometimes it feels like I’m working in a vacuum. When people like Steven reach out and say, “This was made for me,” it’s incredibly validating.
Metal usually gets paired with beer in people’s minds—kegs, parties, that whole vibe. I love beer, but wine is my thing. I wanted to show that there’s space for wine in the metal scene, too.
Dathan: Totally. And it’s funny because, like Steven said, people assume if you wear black and go to metal shows, you must be this angry, uneducated person—which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I went through the goth phase myself back in California. These days, I don’t dress the part, but industrial is still my go-to. Skinny Puppy, Ministry, Godflesh—you name it.
Stacy: Oh man, Godflesh is one of my all-time favorites. And yeah, it’s always wild to me that in my day-to-day life, I’m just a jeans-and-T-shirt guy who teaches. But in the car, I might be blasting something so heavy it would make most people turn pale.
It all goes back to that idea of not judging a book by its cover.
Dathan: Speaking of balance, your zine mixes humor, critique, sincerity, and education. How do you approach that?
Stacy: I think that balance is the secret sauce. It’s like wine—when you hit that perfect harmony, it’s complex and memorable. Early issues leaned more toward humor and satire. But over time, it evolved. Now there are fun stories, educational tidbits, and sincere moments alongside the jokes.
One example is a poster we published explaining how wine is made—but framed through the lens of a punk rock concert. The yeast became the band, the audience was the sugar, and security kept out the bad guys. It was quirky but also educational, and it stuck with people.
Dathan: Flipping through the book, I love things like the master sommelier piece where you asked, “What would Dumbledore drink?” or “What’s Gandalf’s wine of choice?”
Stacy: (Laughs) That was so fun. It entertains, but it also teaches. You might laugh at the idea of Gandalf drinking a certain wine, but you also learn about the grape itself.
Dathan: I have to ask—do you prefer calling Blood of Gods a zine or a magazine?
Stacy: I embrace the term zine. It started off as low-fi newspaper print, then evolved into higher-quality paper and glossy covers.
To me, a zine is like a love letter. It’s about passion, not perfection. You don’t need ads or a giant budget—you just need to care deeply about something and want to share it.
Dathan: Tell me about the artwork. The visuals are incredible.
Stacy: Thank you. I work with a range of artists—from comic book illustrators to tattoo artists. I don’t want it to be one-dimensional gore or brutality. The diversity of styles makes it accessible and welcoming, even for people new to wine or metal.
And the art ties into our annual event, Blood of Gods Merrymaking, where 100% of tasting fees go to Planned Parenthood. Over the years, we’ve raised between $10,000 and $15,000 for them. A lot of my collaborators work for reduced fees because they know it’s for a good cause.
