So I went to work today as usual and when we hit a slight lull I was perusing some news, including a dose of the metal world on Blabbermouth.net and saw a headline about Peter Steele that caught me off guard: TYPE O NEGATIVE's Label: The World Has Lost A Charismatic Frontman And A Very Talented Person
Lost?
I clicked and read and sure enough lost was right. Peter Steele was dead.
I can't say I was ever a
huge Type O fan, but I certainly liked some of their stuff. They also crossed paths with my life.
First, when I had just met her, my ex-wife was really into Type O Negative. She had a shirt that she had received for her birthday right around the same time as I met her. I'll always remember its black and green. Type O Negative wasn't what I would consider her usual musical taste but she liked them. Liked Peter Steele.
So Type O Negative or not, we started hanging out and about six months later we wound up venturing down from Poughkeepsie to NYC to see Type O Negative at Roseland. It was around Halloween time and if memory serves me correctly
Electric Hellfire Club opened and there was a brief, surprise appearance by the
Misfits. Type O Negative blew up some pumpkins on stage and there was a toilet paper roll fight at one point as well. It was pretty fun.
Before that show, while sightseeing* I stopped at every record label I could find and dropped off resumes. There was a lot of walking but one label actually mentioned needing an intern. Unpaid, but good experience and travel expenses were paid for. That label was Roadrunner Records -- coincidentally (or not) Type O Negative's label.
So I quit my deli gig, moved from Latham to Poughkeepsie and started riding Metro North down to my internship at Roadrunner three days a week helping out in their publicity department. While there I met Peter briefly when he came in. He was one of the few musicians I met during that time that seemed like he was in a different league. Not "just a regular guy" as most were. He was certainly down to earth, nice (especially considering I was an intern) and clearly funny (naming an album
The Origin of the Feces is nothing but funny), but he had that deep voice and was physically daunting. Really daunting. He was a presence whether on stage, sitting in a cubicle at an office or hanging out on the
Frying Pan at a holiday party. He also was in
Playgirl around that time so I saw a lot more Peter Steele than I ever really needed to.
Only 48 years old. Pretty sad. A sad event that hit home more than I would have anticipated.
A statement from Roadrunner and some videos too (including Halloween classic, Black #1 -- way better than Twilight or Vampire Diaries if you ask me):
http://www.roadrunnerrecords.com/blabbermouth.net/news.aspx?mode=Article&newsitemID=138554
*why is it not siteseeing?
