Peter Steel of Type O Negative (1962-2010)
Peter Steele, frontman for goth-metal band Type O Negative died yesterday at the age of 48. Reports say he died from heart failure.
Type O was, in some ways, a kitschy sort of band, one whose lyrics you didn’t take too seriously but whose music you appreciated despite the almost tongue in cheek gothic tone to their songs. The metal part of their goth-metal was well worth wading through some over the top lyrics.
Or maybe that’s just me. I was once sure that everyone saw Type O that way. How could you not? Peter Steele’s amusing self-hatred was too over the top to be real. His deprecating remarks, his entire demeanor seemed to be made of pure show biz. Steele never seemed like the kind of guy who lived the lyrics he sang about. I always saw his act as just that – an act. Pure posturing for maximum effect.
It wasn’t until I saw Type O Negative live that I realized their fan base consisted mostly of people who saw Steele as a larger than life (he was, after all, 6″7″) gothic hero. The eyeliner, black nail polish and fairy wings in the audience – on both male and female – outnumbered the jeans and tshirts.
I was at the show – I’m pretty sure this was at Irving Plaza in New York – with a friend who worked at the time for Roadrunner Records. We had seats in the VIP section and were seated at a table upstairs, where I could survey the crowd and count the winged creatures from above. The show started and Steele launched into his usual monologue consisting of a lot of self deprecation, “We suck” chants and other assorted profanities and sexual references hurled at the crowd, which they applauded gratefully.
At the table next to me was an elderly woman, clapping and laughing as Steele continued his tirade of “I hate myself and everyone else” bitching. Someone wearing an all access pass came over to our table, pointed at the laughing woman and said “Have you met Peter Steele’s grandmother yet?”
And that was all I really needed to know about him. That his grandmother seemed to adore his onstage persona was both amusing and endearing, and it led me to believe that what I saw in Peter Steele was right; he was a guy with a great voice, a big personality and who was brilliant when it came to selling his act. Despite the insistence of the black wearing, eyelinered crowd, Peter Steel was not someone whose stage personality you took seriously and for me, that made his music all the more better. I couldn’t sit around listening to songs about fucking the dead or praising Bacchus if I thought they were earnest. The songs are definitely good music, but their personalities are all Steele.
At least that’s the way I saw him and the way I’ll remember him.
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Who cares? Greece and Portugal are about to destroy the currency formerly know as the “Euro”.
Sometimes the 90’s crap music just wont die…..if I hear Nirvana one more time I am going to beat up a tea bagger.
“I couldn’t sit around listening to songs about fucking the dead or praising Bacchus if I thought they were earnest”
You don’t earn anything when you sit around listening to music, MAN!
Just shut up before you can produce some good music, OK?