Celebrating Peter Murphy on his 66th birthday. —Ed.
I’ve never been much of a gothic rock fan. Why? For starters, I’m not deceased. Bela Lugosi may be dead, but I’m not. And I’ve never been big on humorless doom and gloom types. You know, the ones who spend their spare weekends looking into crypt rentals.
But Bauhaus, different story. A jagged-edged post-punk band with a guitarist who played barb wire, Bauhaus eschewed gothic atmospherics in favor of dissonance, feedback, and raw power. What’s more, there was nothing sepulchral about he-of-the-prominent-cheekbones Peter Murphy’s voice; he’s very much alive, and proof that the quick and the dead needn’t be two different animals.
1986’s 1979-1983 Volume One is more than just a compilation of a pioneering Goth rock band; it’s a landmark of the post-punk era, and demonstrates why Bauhaus’ music continues to inspire and influence a wide variety of musical artists. Rarely will you find a compilation without a weak track on it, but Bauhaus pulls it off with their voodoo potion of punk, dub reggae, and what can only be described as noise rock. (“Double Dare” sounds more like a song by Cows than one of Bauhaus’ English contemporaries.) It was this mélange of influences that led Murphy to describe Bauhaus as “more aligned to the Clash than anything else that was going around.”
On LP opener axe ace Daniel Ash and David J’s fuzzed-out bass produce a wall of distorted noise over a submarine ping and Murphy’s baritone vocal. I always think of goth rock vocals as cadaver chilly, but Murphy’s veer on spontaneous human combustion. He also comes close to self-immolation on the breakneck “St. Vitus Dance,” spitting out his words before breaking into some staccato screaming and a swell monkey imitation.
Despite Murphy’s Clash comparison, Bauhaus has more in common Joy Division than with any other band of the era. You can hear it on the feedback-drenched “In the Flat Field,” the bass-heavy “Dancing,” and the tub-thumping “Hair of the Dog,” which comes with Ash’s opening feedback squall but isn’t, I’m sorry to report, a cover of the Nazareth song of the same name. (The comp does include a cover of T. Rex’s “Telegram Sam,” which features a revved-up tempo and Murphy substituting Marc Bolan’s smooth delivery with a frantic vocal that is all electric fence crackle.)
Like “Telegram Sam,” “Dark Entries” is a drag race winner—Ash provides exploding glass guitar and a big hook, while Murphy sounds like a cross between Ian Curtis and—believe it not—the Stan Ridgway of “Mexican Radio.” “Terror Couple Kill Colonel”—a song about the German revolutionary group the Baader Meinhof Gang that puts them in the company of Cabaret Voltaire and Brazil’s Legião Urbana—also bears echoes of Ian Curtis and company.
Bauhaus combine the dub of Public Image Ltd and metal on “Stigmatic Martyr; David J’s loping and ominous bass is pure Jah Wobble, Ash’s guitar brings Keith Levene to mind, and Murphy—like the great faker John Lydon himself—is pure menace. David J’s bass on “A God in a Alcove” also brings Public Image to mind, but every time I hear the song’s guitar opening I hear D. Boon of the Minutemen. And the backing harmonies are great. On “The Passion of Lovers,” Ash plays a static riff but I miss his pyrotechnics; that said, the song’s chorus is perhaps the best they ever recorded.
On “Mask” Murphy can’t decide whether he wants to spend the song going “uh, uh, uh” or sing opera, and once again Ash’s spastic guitar is nowhere to be found; what you get instead is a lovely acoustic guitar solo that sounds unlike anything on the compilation. Which brings us to a live version of the band’s signature song “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” with its lengthy instrumental opening on which Ash plays great washes of feedback until David J’s bass comes in. Then Murphy makes his entry and on this one he does sound like a tale from the crypt. “I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead” he sings, and you believe him. What follows is a slow show of sticks from drummer Kevin Haskins and some swooping electric guitar, before Murphy sounds a mournful “Poor Bela/Bela is dead.” Poor guy.
Peter Murphy has had the highest profile since the band’s breakup in 1983, becoming the Goth Rock Godfather and releasing nine solo albums (as well as a number of other projects) in the process. But it’s Daniel’s Ash guitar that keeps me coming back to Bauhaus; it’s fearless, stiletto sharp, and lent Bauhaus its inimitable sound. His playing on songs like “Double Dare,” “Stigmata Martyr,” and “Dark Entries” gave the band its frisson of danger. It’s going too far to call Bauhaus the best post-punk band to come out of England, but I’d put them in the 90th percentile, which may be proof I am deceased. Just don’t tell my friends. It might cheer them up.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
