Or maybe it’s a trick — hard to say.
A couple years ago Cecil and I recorded a version of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” partly as a way to test out his new recording setup. The results were mixed: I was never entirely happy with my contribution, but Cecil did a fantastic job on the music and the mixing, so I think that this deserves to finally see the light of day. Or the dark of night, whatever. And what better day than today?
So without, further ado, here’s The Raven.
Bela Lugosi was born on this day in 1884.
But now he’s dead.
Undead undead undead.
I’m happy to report that Bauhaus was in fine form. Pete Murphy’s voice was as powerful as ever, though he has a big bald spot now, along with a blond dye job and a seedy-looking moustache; thankfully, he’s toned down the goofy dancing and now carries himself with a certain dignity. Daniel Ash played the bejeezus out of his guitar and looked like he’s been hitting the gym; formerly a wispy, skinny-armed English lad, he now sports big guns that he showed off with a sleeveless outfit. The Haskins boys, David and Kevin, provided a reliable backbone on bass and drums, and didn’t seem to have aged a bit. Kevin, in particular, pounded on his kit with the energy and enthusiasm of a teenager — but with the precision of a seasoned veteran.
The whole band, in fact, seemed to just plain enjoy being Bauhaus again, and this energy animated the music and thus the audience. The set list was close to perfect; sounding especially good were “She’s in Parties,” “Rosegarden Funeral of Sores,” and “Hollow Hills.” Ash got a chance to sing on an amped-up version of “Slice of Life,” always a personal favorite of mine, and there was no arguing with the encores: “Bela Lugosi’s Dead,” “Telegram Sam,” and to wrap things up, “Ziggy Stardust.” Murphy even wished us all sweet dreams before exiting stage left. On the whole, I don’t know what more I could have asked for from Bauhaus in 2005, except maybe Love and Rockets as the opening act — but that would be greedy.