gotta love cut and paste...

Type O Negative



"Before I answer that I just have to correct you." 

Uh oh. Josh Silver, Type O Negative's keyboardist/vocalist, wants to 
make sure I get the story straight. 

"You mentioned before that we are considered pessimists, but that is 
really inaccurate. And I can't let it go uncorrected. I would have to 
say it is others who are foolishly optimistic, and it's not that we're 
pessimists. Reality will smack everybody in the face eventually. And 
whether we admit it or not, it's coming. So, I just wanted to make that 
perfectly clear. Now we'll continue on with your next question." He 
finishes with a laugh.

Welcome to the dark and damaged world of Type O Negative. It's grim and 
funny, comic and tragic - and it's not a secret anymore.

But who could have guessed when their album Bloody Kisses was released 
in 1993 that it would sell a half a million records? Their songs, 
never-ending goth/metal dirges, stretched on for eight or nine minutes 
each; MTV would have to cancel an episode of The Real World to play just 
one of their videos, and what if nobody liked it? Radio doesn't really 
take a shining to songs with multiple movements, either, which makes you 
wonder how "Stairway To Heaven" ever got on the air.

Nevertheless, what Type O did have going for them was enthusiastic fans 
and a good work ethic.

"I think we earned it a little more than many bands who just get serious 
media push. I mean, fifty spins on MTV will sell a half a million 
records, or you can play 450 shows in 18 months. I think for that extra 
effort you'll get a grass roots following that will probably end up a 
little more loyal than an MTV following that's waiting for the next 
thing to get fifty spins. I'm happy that we went that route."

It's certainly paid off for them. Josh is calling just hours before his 
flight to England, where they will be playing before 100,000 people at 
the Donnington Festival. When they return, Type O will be headlining a 
tour that will support their new album October Rust, which will bring 
them on September 10 to the Kingston skating rink the End Zone.

"Maybe we'll skate instead, might be an improvement," Josh offers.

The Type O saga began in 1991 when Josh joined forces with his lifelong 
friend Peter Steele. Peter had just called it quits with his band 
Carnivore. Once guitarist Kevin Hickey hopped on board, the nucleus for 
Type O was complete.

The band tried to discreetly shop for a label, but Peter had signed a 
contract when he was with Carnivore that made leaving Roadrunner Records 
impossible. Roadrunner found out about what they were trying to do, of 
course, and the two have been bedded together ever since. 

After the success of Bloody Kisses, which notched Roadrunner their first 
gold record, their label must be treating them like kings, right?

"King of the crap pile, I guess." He stops, reconsiders the situation, 
and says, "Or maybe we're the biggest fly on this pile. It's a small 
pile, it really doesn't make that much difference.

"We always got the budgets we needed as far as recording and stuff. But 
I can't say (we're being treated) better, I can't say worse. They'll 
always be Roadrunner, and we'll always be wondering why."

Know that Josh delivers these lines completely deadpan. If you have a 
dry, apocalyptic sense of humor, he'll crack you up. In fact, it's 
necessary to understand their humor to approach their music, because 
that's how they deal with the absurdity of life. 

Take a peak at the lyrics to "Red Water (Christmas Mourning)" which, by 
the way, is an amazing song. "The table is set for seven/Last year I 
dined with eleven/God damn ye merry gentlemen." It sounds pretty funny, 
but there's more to it than that.

"It touches upon some seriously deep issues. Quite honestly I've dealt 
with a couple deaths in recent years of friends and relationships and so 
on. 

"Humor is the best defense against all serious emotion. People make 
jokes in the face of absolutely adverse conditions - and you have to - 
because you will lose it if you don't. There's no other way to keep it 
together. Sometimes people have to hate, sometimes people have to make 
jokes, it's all parts of the big defense mechanism. I think that's how 
we mix it up."

Not all of their songs are that emotionally charged. Their first single, 
"My Girlfriend's Girlfriend," is a poppy, tongue-in-cheek tune, probably 
the least representative of the Type O aesthetic. Then there's the cover 
of Neil Young's "Cinnamon Girl," which is bound to make you smile. 
Sometimes they're just plain annoying, which is the case with the thirty 
five second opening of October Rust that sounds like your CD is broken.

"It's my favorite song, what are you saying? To me it's hilarious. I 
want people to go return them and think that they're broken. We've 
gotten calls from the pressing plants, 'What's wrong with this. 
Obviously the first song is screwed up and you have to remaster.' So it 
goes right down the line. Why be any more serious than we ever have 
been?" 

The last time I got tangled up in an interview with Josh was a couple 
years ago. What has changed about Type O, either musically or 
personally, in the time between Bloody Kisses and October Rust? 

"I think inevitably, both have changed. I think both walk hand in hand. 
You get older, you know. The last time we talked, I was probably closer 
to thirty and now I'm closer to thirty four. If I haven't changed, than 
I'm in deep, you know? 

"But that's not impossible either. Musicians are a famously infantile 
breed and it's not impossible that I haven't learned a damm thing and 
I'll still be repeating the same ridiculous patterns that I have been my 
entire life. Maybe now I'll just realize and accept it, but I won't 
change a damn thing. I'm not sure yet.

"Musically, we did try to come up with a style that was conducive to 
Type O's older material as well as branching out into something new. So 
we tried to come up with something that we could feel comfortable 
playing, but also sounded like some of the old Type O stuff. We didn't 
want to lose it entirely. 

"We don't mind changing, but the developmental process is a gradual one. 
So I think we have become perhaps more sedate and even more depressed. 
I'm having a hard time putting it into words right now. I think sedate 
might be the most accurate term I can offer. I think age inevitably 
breeds the acceptance of certain things. I think we just accept life for 
what it is. If we're in the toilet tomorrow, I'll be satisfied with what 
we did."

Alex Mulcahy