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Peter Steele: Loved To Death

April 15, 2010

There are reports tonight that rock demigod Peter Steele has died of heart failure. This is a down-low blow.

Steele fronted Type O Negative, churning out strangely melodic gothic metal, dark, demonic opera fuelled by soaring keys, grinding guitars and Steele’s voice, deeper than his bass guitar.

The 48-year-old lived a hard life, but he lived it his way, made his choices, and was open about his regrets. He had faults. He had gifts. We all do, but few of us live our lives in that kind of spotlight. Years from now, I will remember Steele’s music, not his problems.

There are few bands out there that captured the sound of late fall, of dead leaves and cold rain, the way Type O Negative does. And there won’t be. Steele is gone, and he cannot be replaced. He was one of a kind, despite what Andrew Eldritch of the Sisters of Mercy might tell you.

I listen to a lot of music, and a lot of different types of music. Type O is one of my favourites, has been for a long, long time. It’s due to the music, which touches the odd black chord in my odd black heart, but it’s also because the band just seemed to be real, and dedicated to their work. They never “sold out,” even when Steele went on Jerry Springer to talk about his Playgirl appearance.

He sang his way, and he rocked his way, and he lived his way.

Sing on, Peter Steele. Rock on. And live on.

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One comment

  1. Sad news indeed. That’s a summer breeze we’re unlikely to feel again.



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