Black No. 1

Today marks the one-year anniversary of the death of Type O Negative frontman Peter Steele. Peter was a giant, vampire viking who seemed like he could rip you in two...or just take you out for a beer. I always dug the fact that he tempered his dark, gloomy lyrics with a sly sense of humour. He never took himself, or his subject matter, too seriously. I'm fairly certain that he's somewhere laughing at his own corpse at the moment, as he always liked mocking the very concept of death. He wrote what was, in my opinion, one of the all-time great Halloween anthems:



Rest in peace, Peter.

Comments

Jinx said…
That's cool. Sorry for my recent absence, I'm just doing some catching up now. How are you, m'dear?
The Gill-Man said…
I'm well! I understand the need to catch up! I've been incredibly busy myself, so I'm not on here nearly as much as I'd like to be. How are things on your side of the Pond?
Jinx said…
Glad you're good. Things are dandy in the ole UK, we even have some fairly nice weather which is always a surprise.

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