A bloody retrospective

I've been ruminating on Peter Steele's death since I first got word, and decided to offer my perspective. First, I have been a fan of Type O Negative since Bloody Kisses came out. I remember when a friend of mine in high school first heard Black #1. She was delighted because the song was "about me", as she had dyed black hair. It was a funny song, but I thought Christian Woman had better songwriting.

Bloody Kisses was the soundtrack to many a summer for me. The hilarious version of Summer Breeze always made this a Hot August album for me.

October Rust was a great album, and the video for Love You to Death is one of my favorites, even though the album was a decidedly softer, poppier affair. World Coming Down and Life is Killing Me both took a while to grow on me, but I'm a fan of both.

I wonder if I'll never see kids wearing clever Type O t-shirts again. Those clever green witticisms, are they gone?

I had been on a Type O Negative kick for the last few months. I was sad I could not make the trip to Chicago to see them on their last tour a few months ago. That was my last chance to see them live. So now I'm ripping Symphony for the Devil onto my ipod so I can listen to them live and enjoy what it must have been like to see them at their prime. If I was one of those filesharing guys, I'd upload it for you.



It is also a retrospective on aging. I was going to reference Pete on my growing old with dignity piece. Here is Pete in the prime of life:



And here he is some ten years later.



Cocaine is a helluva drug. Notice the sunken eyes and terrible teeth. Was it meth as well as the booze and coke? No matter. I was looking forward to a new album, but we will have to enjoy what we have.

I had hopes that Peter would be the Johnny Cash of my generation. After hard living and drugs, he seemed to turn the corner and clean up his life. I could see him making some triumphant crusty old man albums, with his voice old and withered, yet still with an iron strong presence. Can you imagine that rumbling bass at 60? Oh well.

Finally, I also found him to be a compatriot who does not wear band t-shirts. Dress shirts, always dress shirts. When in need of a t-shirt, never a band shirt. Solid colors please. A pocket in corner would be nice too.



That's pretty much what I wear on casual/jeans Friday. Minus the bass guitar, of course.