Last gasp from the past

The friend I met up with had converted the video of our first gig at an (im)famous bar , Fernandos. It had a reputation for basically letting anyone play at the bar on Sunday nights, so take that as you will. Two local goth bands, Shadowspawn (mine) and Saint Cry (the headliners).

The hicks at the bar hated us and made it known; both loudly and drunkenly.

I’ve decided against sharing any of the actual footage from the show. It would be cruel to show anything more than the above still.

We were a young band still, both by age and how long we’d been playing together — maybe six or seven months and we barely had enough material for a 1/2-hr warmup slot. I say we were goth, but we were more dark punk with some melodic sensibilities instead of playing just for speed. The guitarist was more into metal than goth, while the drummer-singer was more into alternative pop (Depeche Mode, New Order, The Cure). I was the one who loved Joy Division, early Cure, Sisters of Mercy, C— Death, Bauhaus, Gene Loves Jezebel… The only reason we called ourselves goth was really that my lyrics (I was responsible for them all) were really dark without being campy and my bass lines played around a lot with non-conventional minors and intentional dissonance and played mid-to-high on the neck (a la Hooky and Simon Gallup). If I’m being absolutely authentic about the band’s sound, it was more goth-inspired punk.

You smash together so many disparate influences, and that’s what you end up with.

In a word? The show is a bit on the cringe side looking back. Out of tune guitar. My shitastic singing on the one song the singer refused to sing because it involved prostitutes and used the word “pork” instead of the f-bomb (not to avoid the word, but to use a word that was more debasing that even ‘fuck’ for a sexual act — it was a seedy underbelly of the city kind of lyricism). The preening and posing of youth. A few missed frets on the bass. If I can get the courage to listen to it all the way through and find anything worth foisting, I will (perhaps a song called “Words” might survive a cut, but it was much better at unrecorded gigs).

It’s laughable now. And all very cringe instead of fringe…

I am quickly getting to the point where I can bury and lay to rest my past.

I think that was the biggest gift getting together with my old friend, bandmate and roommate gave me, although he probably thinks it was something else.

[the scrape of the shovel against soil that you hear indicates Michael has started filling in the grave with dirt]