Friday, April 16, 2010

Everything Dies

I've made a number of life-changing decisions based on pop culture. NYU - Felicity. California - Green Day. Brooklyn - Type O Negative. And while this is definitely not the appropriate forum to discuss my love of Peter Steele, I'm going to do it anyway.

Those that have known me for a long time would probably describe me as chipper. Cynical, yes, but ultimately chipper. I listen to pop punk and squeal at puppies. I willingly watch Spongebob. I like to wear bright colors and smile when I complain.

But, there's a dark side. Not: I'm-going-to-lose-a-hand dark side, nor some trippy-Wizard-of-Oz high school bull shit. But it exists. It's hard to describe.

Type O Negative's music, albeit often trite or somewhat uninspired, resonates with this dark side. The rhythms are slow and heavy, like a good sob. The lyrics are fatalistic and romantic, when not just straight up retarded. And Peter's vocals reverberate through my heart. His howls hurt to listen to. I want to howl like that.

Type O Negative is not mine alone - they have millions of fans around the world - many of whom I got insight into when I interned at Roadrunner Records. But, still, Peter's death feels just as real to me as I would imagine the death of a friend would. His music helped me through some of my darkest periods and will no doubt continue to inspire me for the rest of my life.

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