My mother passed away which is not like a pity-party for me, but this is really the first year where I felt the impact of her being gone.” I’m having some family problems right now. “I sure fucking hope so after these last holidays. Sitting in his Brooklyn home – the basement of his parents’ house – into which he famously ‘kicked a mattress down the stairs and never looked back’ when he was 19, Steele’s detachedly watching the news as he says he does every morning, ‘just to find out if any of my family members have been murdered’, he says without a hint of irony. “The 45th anniversary of getting kicked out of the best place that I have ever lived. He’s just celebrated the holidays, not forgetting his 45th birthday on January 4th. As he confesses, even Type O Negative’s sixth offering, their soon-to-be released Dead Again album, still bespeaks his extreme disappointment in, well… pretty much every arena.
I’m this little piece of testosterone floating in an oestrogen sea.”īut it may be that Steele is overstating his case for happiness a bit. I come from a family of five aunts, five sisters and five nieces. Maybe that sounds sexist but I am a sexist, OK? I hate men. Only men start wars and you know why? Because they want more land and they want more money, because when you get more power you get more pussy. As anyone with an IQ will tell you, women are the basis of all wars on fuckin’ Earth. “I had an altercation with someone…” he says, pausing as if waiting for a rimshot, “over a woman of course. As for those legal problems he mentioned, it sounds like Steele’s luck hasn’t changed. It’s a rare moment of levity in a conversation that frequently veers toward melancholy, heartbreak, and the tales of loss that have laced Type O’s music ever since the release of their 1991 debut Slow Deep And Hard, an autobiographical account of Steele’s failed romances, first darkened the world with its slinking, funereal dirges. Not out of ridicule, but in knowing agreement that you haven’t lost everything if you still have your sense of humour.
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But Pete Steele’s life was also one plagued by personal loss, bouts of severe depression, and an outlook so exuberantly free of any kind of optimism, that all anyone could really do was laugh at it. Sure, Pete Steele was a musical visionary whose trademark baritone and gallows humour fused a language of love and loss with gothically-tinged, Sabbath-loving sounds to create one of the 90s most successful yet inimitable metal bands. It was a tragically fitting postscript on a famously cheerless existence. For anyone who knew anything about Pete Steele or his music, the understated epitaph spoke volumes. The only clue as to the news’ veracity was an enigmatic image posted on the official Type O Negative web site: an illustrated tombstone that read read ‘Peter Steele, 1962-2005’. On May 13, 2005, the world of heavy music was shaken to its very foundations by rumours that founding Type O Negative frontman and bassist Pete Steele was dead.
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