Last Saturday night I went to a “goth party” on a boat in Chelsea Piers, New York City. This goth barge contained three floors and countless corridors of 21-plus stock brokers and computer geeks who took on a half-assed baroque appearance to undoubtedly “let loose on Saturday night” in their baggy leather pants, frilly purple satin jackets and arsenic ‘n’ lace brassieres. Not even real goths, mind you, but bridge and tunnel refugees looking to sip overpriced vodka and cranberries while dancing to Revolting Cocks and discuss the merit of Trent Reznor’s latest music endeavor.
I never understood the allure of the gothic subculture myself, always questioning why anyone would opt for medieval duds over the punk rock “non-aesthetic” aesthetic. I can appreciate the faux-goth stance of acts like the Cure and Depeche Mode, who reveled in the fact that boys do cry and that wearing eyeliner makes it all the more noticeable, but the goth/industrial scene alludes me almost completely. Does Throbbing Gristle count for anything? They’re pretty good. The first Ministry record actually sounds like New Order, and I’ll admit that I also bought Psalm 69 from Columbia House in 8th grade, but the meshing of dance beats and grinding guitars just never did it for me.
Regardless, the afloat goth boat became unbearable, and we left after about 45 minutes, making some lucky souls waiting on line to get into the by-then sold-out event very happy. This record, by one of the guys that was in Skinny Puppy, sounds like the stuff they were playing on the boat.
// Notes from the Road
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