Peter Steele died. Not many people will care – “Everything Dies”, as the esteemed muso said. But those who appreciate the talent and artistry enveloped in Type O Negative will shed a sad moment. As I have never been a maniacal Type O fan, it isn’t my place to write a gushy Peter Steele tribute, and so I won’t. However, the death of the iconic muso has reminded me of just how powerful music is.
I am sure that people mourn artists for different reasons but the catalyst for mourning, in my mind, would be the death of an artist who I feel understands and expresses what I feel better than almost anyone. This feeling can’t really be inspired by actors because they are always acting parts, so maybe one falls in love with a character, rather than the man (or woman) behind the mask. Musicians, through poetry and music, have the power to grab a hold of a soul and wrench it and rip it until emotions are felt that would otherwise have remained dormant. Music is evocative in the extreme. What is a film without the musical score? The arts are interdependent. An image, from the sublime to the grotesque, is enhanced by an accompanying soundtrack; an actor’s expression is heightened by colour and tone; a music note is elaborated by a voice; and Type O is consummated with the abyssal baritone of Peter Steele.
The guy was kinda weird – singing about periods and all (I guess that’s what you get for growing up in a home with five sisters). Many would argue that only a brilliant individual would have the ability to get more than ten people to sing along to a song about menstruation. He liked drugs and alcohol (although recently rehabilitated); his hair and he liked his cats. He was bipolar and depressive. He went to prison. He saw a psychiatrist. He posed for Playgirl. He sang about death. He was sometimes paranoid. He proclaimed atheism only to embrace his Roman-Catholic roots in later years. He composed songs, wrote poetry and was a bassist/vocalist. Peter Steele lived and loved, hurt and healed. He inspired and aroused. Peter Steele was a man. Peter Steele was an artist. His life has ended. His soul lives on in his art and through those who admire him.
“There are no atheists in foxholes, they say, and I was a foxhole atheist for a long time. But after going through a midlife crisis and having many things change very quickly, it made me realize my mortality. And when you start to think about death, you start to think about what’s after it. And then you start hoping there is a God. For me, it’s a frightening thought to go nowhere. I also can’t believe that people like Stalin and Hitler are gonna go to the same place as Mother Teresa.” Peter Steele
Interesting thoughts here. I appreciate you taking the time to share them with us all. It’s people like you that make my day :)
Thanks a lot. I miss Peter so much.
His death was really sad – I wish I had been able to see Type O perform live!