Anyway, I wasn't a very successful Goth. I crazy-coloured my hair black, but it was pretty close to my natural colour anyway and in those pre-straighteners days, my semi-fro was not the smooth sheet of black satin which we aimed for. I tried to wear a crucifix earring home once, but my mum hit the roof.
'It doesn't mean anything' I said, attempting defiance. 'But we're Jewish...' She shamed me into disposing of it. (A Star of David just didn't have the same gloomy, melodramatic, cemetery associations... I think I wore an ankh later, that flew under the parental radar. )
Anyway, I'm left with a residual fondness for the dozy buggers, dry ice, black eyeliner, white face paint and all.* But I've been a bit flexible with my definition of the tunes, in a way that purists will probably hate, because the music was a bit crap really, wasn't it?
*Goths are excellent for taking the piss out of. In their 80s heyday, there was a long-running series in one of the music papers taking the piss out of the hapless drummer, Nod, in the Fields of the Nephilim. He took it in good part. Even the bands took the piss. Andrew Eldritch from the Sisters of Mercy was fairly merciless, with utter contempt for his fans. One of my bookshop pals saw them, he said there was an enormous Goth girl down the front of the stage wearing a purple cloak. Andrew Eldritch leaned down with his microphone to ask her 'And what have you come as?' She burst into tears.
Another story - one of my friends Chris had been in exile from London in Norwich when his parents had thoughtlessly relocated. He began a correspondence with a Goth club promoter called Malice In Wonderland in London - might the club have been called the Limelight, or the Batcave? Something like that anyway. One day he got an invite to stay over in London at Malice's place, and all excited, he hopped on the train to London, only to find out that Malice, this hot Goth chick was in fact... a bloke. Crushed.
Anyway, do give it a listen. Whilst doing that mystical windmill thing with your arms. Remember, ' Life is short and love is always over in the morning...'
Image of Death (a Goth, natch) courtesy of the Sandman.
13 comments:
Ahem ... Echo And The Bunnymen and JAMC are goth? Yikes. Guilty as proven!
Being a bit older and more cynical than the goths who appeared at the height of its popularity, I can remember me and my friends doing the chicken dance as a piss take all the way through a Sisters Of Mercy 12 inch track at a club in Birmingham. I think I had aching shoulders for three days after, which served me right.
i linked to you twice, but it was the bra stuff rather than the death of the blogosphere that i was getting at. blogging's still shiny and newish to me!
as for your goth phase, i was (once upon a time) very big into Chris de Burgh. so there's always someone worse off.
A goth podcast! Perfect soundtrack to a Friday night in with the lurgee and my bottle of absinthe. Thanks for that.
There weren't really any Goths in my school, or in Watford in general, when I was growing up. I think Britpop skewed everything a bit. We had metallers, who I got on with just fine, but no full on goths. So I discovered my inner goth only very recently.
Strangely, or not, most of the girls I've been out with in my 20's have had a goth past. Like, the past four. Hmmm.
I can't get it to work. There's just a little question mark.
I've done all the right actions, and sacrificed a chicken in my bedroom and dressed up like Noel Fielding and all, but it still doesn't work.
But I'm sure it's lovely. Funnily, I never really liked the definitive goth triumvirate (Sisters, Mish, Neph) but quite liked many of those who goths were allowed to have in their collection, but weren't of the One True Church (J&MC, Banshees, Wonder Stuff, Marc Almond, Nick Cave, Lydia Lunch, etc).
Betty - - spiky hair? Black clothes? Miserabilist attitudes? They denied it, but they didn't have a leg to stand on...
Rosie, oh I know, your blog is full of the joys, it's just us old-timers who have gone all 'what's it all about...?' Aargh, Chris de Burgh... I'm quite scared to click on that link.
Del, don't overdo it on the absinthe now will you? It's not generally prescribed as a cure for the lurgee. You haven't cut your ear off or anything have you? Del?
Goths are goers, it's all that hanging around in cemeteries, staring death in the eye, that makes them frisky.
Tim, oh no. You can't see the little 'listen' button? Sometimes switchpod takes a while to load. Here is a direct link to the mp3 if you're really interested...
Yes, we got J&MC, Siouxsie - damn, I missed a trick with those others. The thing is, the music that inspired them (the Velvets, say) and the bands they inspired tended to be much better than the genre itself...
My friend dabbled in a bit of goth but wasn't full on. He recorded Temple of Love for me. I think we might have gone to a few goth clubs but it's so bloody long ago. We saw Curve live if that counts.
Goths are funny to watch while they attempt to dance - oh yes, all that emotional windmill dancing to The Mission's "Tower of Strength". Hahaha!
A lot of goth blokes were into cross-dressing.
But Malice? There definately was a club called Alice in Wonderland (Brewer Street?).
I recall the Limelight down Shaftesbury Avenue / Charing Cross Road, but the hardcore goths used to go to The Slimelight club (Old Street or Angel). I went to the latter once, it had an unlicensed bar that only sold soft drinks. We were queing up to get in and people were bringing their own alcohol in wheelbarrows. I was accompanied by two goth gals, one blonde and one brunette. Blonde goth lived up to the stereotype of being miserable 24/7, needless to say I got on sooo much better with Brunette goth who was a happy, vibrant and gorgeous ray of sunshine.
Sigh. Those were the days.
Sorry, I can't hear you, I've had a bit of an accident with my ear...
I was just preparing to sit-headbang - I think we can be allowed to mix up the dances so long after the event - to The Temple of Love when my other half came and closed the door very demonstratively and put me off my stride. Is that Ofra Haza hollering?
Darling, sorry to double-comment, but I'm listening live and you're giving me the strongest pang of home- and past-sickness I've ever had. Almost tearful. I want to drink beer from a tin and eat takeaway (also from that tinny stuff). Thank you. And I will call the police if you ever straighten your wonderful locks.
Agh - limping on hideous dial up at friends house in the middle of nowhere in the country - will read/listen properly Sunday xx
I went to a goth club once (in Romford of all places) I didn't even wear black but they were all super-friendly to me and I drank a lot of cider and black.
Plus they played the Pixies so I was happy.
Billy, that club can only have been the Rezz? Did you have to go down a flight of stairs?
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