Bauhaus, somber and well-dressed as always.

Tonight is the Bauhaus show at the Warfield, and though it’s a perfect day for it — gray and gloomy as all get-out — I am a little apprehensive.

I am hard-pressed to explain, even to myself, my great love for Bauhaus. In some ways they are just the kind of band I usually hate: a bunch of pretty boys who take themselves way too seriously. But when I started listening to their records back in 1985 — two years after they’d split up — I was completely hooked. There was just something about them… a purity of purpose that captures perfectly what it’s like to be 19, 20 years old, artsy and alienated and seething with morbid sexuality.

Which makes me wonder, now that they’re these 45-year-old dudes, and I’m no spring chicken myself, will it be the same? Will it be pure nostalgia, or will the magic still be there? I guess we’ll find out soon enough.