Procession at Home Sweet Home

At least one Sunday night a month can be salvaged by taking a plunge into the dark-dance night calling itself “Procession.” It is held in the depths of a dank, underground basement called Home Sweet Home on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. The long bar, manned by a beautiful androgynous bartender, is well enough lit by battered, kitschy and mismatched chandeliers, and livened by a mounted taxidermy specimen of a menacing carnivore, but the dance area is gritty and unselfconsciously punk – a lumpy stone pavement.
DJs Mark Cage Knight and Joe Hart spun out popular pieces from Nick Cave and obscurities like O. Children. Mark, Joe and Joe’s gorgeous girlfriend, Rachel welcomed arrivals – both friends and newcomers, warmly.

About 30 late nighters filled the cellar-like space. A melange of genders and sexual persuasions were in attendance. There were 3 bathrooms – one for men, one for women and one “take-your-pick.” Patrons were a mix of jeans/sneakers-clad hipsters and High Goth fashionistas. About ten people were present on the dance floor at any given time. Those elegantly attired in stunning black outfits, sinuously undulating to the rhythms made a splendid sight, dimly seen through the fog, through which the flash of a projector cut to throw disturbing videos on a peeling painted brick wall.

Club Night

Memento Mori

Bedlam
Feb 25 2016
By Doktor John

New York, NY

Since sometime late last summer, promoter Ana Vice has been hosting a small group of DJs for a mid-week monthly Goth social and dance night at a uniquely eerily decorated bar, appropriately called Bedlam, in Manhattan’s Alphabet City. The night is called “Memento Mori” and it is held one Thursday a month. Bedlam, as is well known, was a notorious old school mental hospital, and this namesake venue lives up to both the medical and the mental reputation of the institution. Antique anatomy charts and gruesome anatomical models adorn the walls. Facsimilies of human bones are distributed at each of the sitting booths where ornamental cobwebs are strewn.
Among the DJs, Mike Stalagmike of Defcon has a modest, low-key and friendly aspect about him, but Mexican import Bela Lugosi Alex and stunningly androgynous Valefar Malefic go all the way with their looks, each manifesting monumental coiffures and morbidly beautiful male vampire appearance.
The music is decidedly of the darkwave/coldwave dance variety, but there was no place for the conventional classics. No Sisters of Mercy. No Cure or Depeche Mode. Nor were they missed, because these DJs dug deep into the realm of Goth, with selections from such rarely played artists as Xmal Deutschland, Black Ice and Virgin in Veil. A fair number of tracks were unidentifiable, but nonetheless as pleasurable and hypnotic as they were melancholy.
Doors opened at 10 pm and about 30 or so patrons were in attendance, most arriving between 11:30 and midnight. All were decked out in blackest of black finery, boots, veils and fishnets as well as high make-up and serene attitude. Not more than a handful of dancers were on the floor at a time. Most attendees stood at the bar and engaged in conversation where a surprisingly festive undercurrent pervaded the generally restrained gathering. A more beautifully attired and groomed crowd is rarely seen, even in the bowels of New York’s deepest, dark demimonde.

Feb 14, 2016
at Slake

New York, NY

A spectacular event – the last of its kind – was hosted by impresario and fangmaster Fr. Sebastiaan on Sunday, Valentine’s Day, at Slake (formerly Downtime at the Batcave) calling itself the 20th anniversary of the annual “Anti-Valentine’s Vampire Ball” – up to now a regular, recurring event.

Gatekeeper Victor Magnus, prolific writer on various dark subjects, and celebrity co-host greeted the 400 or so revelers who attended the occasion – newcomers as well as habitual, perennial attendees. Impresario Fr. Sebastiaan van Houten has been hosting Goth and vampire-themed events going back to 1997, at which time they were termed “Long Black Veil” nights, and originated at the famous Mother club in Manhattan’s Meat-Packing district. His skill at crafting wearable, vampire-like fangs under the auspices of Sabretooth, the association he founded, placed him at the pinnacle of the metropolitan vampire fan community that had been growing alongside New York’s dark music scene. When Mother closed in 2000, he moved his events, first to Club True, then to Rare, the Bank, Drom and most recently to Jekyll & Hyde. Presently he hosts too many events and club nights – in the U.S. and various cities in Europe – to catalogue for this report.

Fr.Sebastiaan and opera diva Ariel De Ment

Belly dancing, striptease and even lyric opera performances provided the entertainment interludes for the evening. Since there is a strict dress code (vampire, steampunk, fetish or all-black), and since many of the more imaginative and exhibitionistic guests far exceed the standard, there were, as always, two costume contests, one for women and one for men. The two winners were awarded tickets to the Vampire Ball in New Orleans this upcoming Halloween. Besides presiding, along with some of his inner circle at the costume judging contests, Fr. Sebastiaan took ample opportunity to address the crowd, warmly expressing appreciation for their attendance and support. He led the audience of devotees in the ritual howl, by which all paid homage to some departed members of the Sabretooth Clan.

These ladies performed in cages high above the dance floor

Music was provided throughout the three-story Slake. On the main, ground floor spinning was by DJs Aengel, V Christ and Xris Smack. Up on the third floor was the uncomfortably chilly Red Room where Sean Templar and Jeffo played a different selection of the classic Goth. Skinny Puppy, Joy Division, Depeche Mode and Bowie got ample airing in both dance areas, and alternated with U2, the Psychedelic Furs, Ministry and Dead Can Dance and more.
Fr. Sebastiaan announced that this would be the last ever Anti-Valentine’s Vampire Ball he would host in NYC, having made arrangements to move to San Francisco, where he intends to become involved in similar events. So all good things must eventually come to an end. This last entry in the twenty-year series provided a joyful grand finale for all who attended and participated.

Disorder
Straight To Hell
Rockaway Bitches

Disorder

Three really accomplished cover bands, representing three famous icons of the late 70s and early 80s, converged on this venerable music venue in Asbury to recreate an evening of music of an era dear to the hearts of many. Both those old enough to recall the inception days of punk, as well as those young fans who know enough to revere the epoch gathered to honor the three groups of performers who had joyfully revived the sounds and sights associated with three giants of the time, Joy Division, The Clash and the Ramones, but each performed with a unique, artistic spin of their own.

Placing an exact date on the origin of punk will always be arbitrary and controversial, but one fact will not. The U.K. and New York share equal status in birthing this cultural and musical movement. Here in the States, it was primarily the Ramones who gave it primal form and gained it widespread recognition with their performances at now-defunct CBGB’s on New York’s Bowery. Opening the show and representing these originals at the Asbury event was an all girls quartet from New York calling itself Rockaway Bitch.

Rockaway Bitches

The show opened at around 8:30. The physically imposing lead vocalist bore an uncanny, if feminized resemblance to Joey Ramone, which she enhanced by wearing a pair of eyeglasses similar to his and sporting the same disheveled hair-do and of course motorcycle jacket. They performed 20 songs in all, from the unmistakable “Blitzkrieg Bop” through “KKK” to “Sedated” and “Rock ‘n’ Roll High School.” And, of course, “Rockaway Beach” from which the band takes its double-entendre name. At the beginning of every song, the bass player, in imitation of Dee-Dee Ramone, screamed “1-2-3-4!” imparting the trademark “do-it-yourself” feel of the original band, which never sought to impress with their mastery of the instruments. With their black motorcycle jackets and denim outfits, not surprisingly, Rockaway Bitch proved to be the most photogenic group of the night.

Straight To Hell

Contemporaneous with the Ramones, across the pond in the U.K, one of the defining originals was the Clash whose leftist politics and eclectic style helped define the culture of the punk movement. So, up next, and after an interlude of live broadcast from a college radio station, came Straight To Hell, finely tuned cover band for The Clash, performing 18 songs, each one more masterfully than the next, starting with “Clampdown,” off the “London Calling” album (1979) and ending with “Police On My Back” from the “Sandinista” collection (1980). Along the way they performed beloved and recognizable entries including reggae-flavored and country & western-styled numbers from the Clash’s large and influential repertoire, rotating vocalists as necessary and as each song demanded. High points came during “I Fought the Law,” “Should I Stay” and “Death or Glory.”

The largest following of fans was there for the third and final band, Disorder, masters of the British post-punk band Joy Division’s oeuvre. In a stroke of unforeseen luck Joy Division came into existence in 1976 when its members made a blundering attempt to emulate the Sex Pistols, but instead hit upon an unexpectedly imaginative and disquieting musical style that has transcended all genres. Disorder caters to the cult of Joy Division devotees who have survived and grown more avid in the 35 years since the untimely death of frontman Ian Curtis and the disbanding of the band.

Disorder began their fourteen song regular set with an obscurity, “Warsaw” from Joy Division’s debut EP “An Ideal For Living” (1978). Moving through the dark and brooding body of work, they performed meticulous recreations of all the favorites: “Day of the Lords,” “She’s Lost Control,” “Isolation,” “Dead Souls” and more. True to Joy Division’s tradition, they performed with more power and energy, more emotional abandon, than the studio recordings would suggest. Exhausted, the band tried to end with the heart-breaking and melodious “Ceremony,” but were called back by a persuasive and enthusiastic audience, whom they succeeded in satisfying with the pitch-dark, lamenting “Twenty-four Hours.”

In the battle of Britain vs. the Bowery, both sides can claim victory as well as the formation of a gratifying alliance that bears witness to the battle-cry, “Punk Never Dies!”

Webster Hall

October 30, 2015

by Doktor John

New York, NY

Berlin-based electro-pop combo IAMX ended their North American tour, termed “Metanoia” after their new album of the same name, on Friday, the day before Halloween, on the big stage at the East Village’s Webster Hall, which was filled to capacity for the event.

Opening band, Mr. Kitty did a spectacular job of warming the crowd with an over-the-top level of energy and a voluminous, hook-laden wall of sound, while frontman Forrest Avery Carney gyrated frenetically on stage in an all-white outfit like a jittery male nurse in a lab coat and mini-shorts that revealed his lengthy, gazelle-like legs sheathed in white stockings. As satisfying as Mr. Kitty was, its effect was to charge up the crowd for an even higher level of enthusiasm for the headliner to come.

IAMX in the form of a quartet roared on stage on schedule at 8:30, opening with “I Come With Knives,” off “The Unified Field (2013), which starts low key then gradually develops into a crescendo. Vocalist Chris Corner was joined on stage by a drummer and two gorgeously and scantily clad keyboardist/guitarist females who also contributed backup vocals. For better or worse, the stage lighting was kept low and monochromatic in reds, blues and purples, in keeping with the dark nature of the music, but I sure would have liked a better look at the whole quartet, Corner, himself as well as the accompanists. The packed hall responded with appreciation and physical agitation that lasted the rest of the night.

Strongly cadenced “The Alternative,” title track off the album of the same name, continued to intensify the mood and was followed by “Happiness,” ironically named from the latest album, “Metanoia.” Also off that album, which Corner represents to be an expression of his release from mental anguish associated with recent depression and insomnia, were “No Maker Made Me,” “Oh Cruel Darkness Embrace Me” and “Aphrodisiac.”

At one point Chris Corner exchanged his kerchief-like hood for a wide-brimmed hat, but maintained an all-black wardrobe throughout the performance.

The other 12 songs (17 in all) were off the various albums that constitute IAMX’s broad repertoire. The syncopated rhythm of “Tear Garden” off the album “Kingdom of Welcome Addiction,” contrasted with slow paced “Bernadette” off “Volatile Times.” Club favorite “Spit It Out” had the effect of increasing the rhythmic pulsation of the spectators who were too tightly packed to break into actual dance.

“Your Joy Is My Low” ended the regular set, but this audience screamed for more, so after a momentary break, IAMX regrouped on stage for an encore consisting of three more songs which of necessity included “Kiss and Swallow,” then ending with the slow and melodious “I Am Terrified.”

From the opening act, Mr. Kitty, to the last beat and final note from IAMX, the packed-house audience remained totally rapt and kept in constant motion by the compelling and unique rhythms.

House of Wax: Anatomical, Pathological & Ethnographic Waxworks

This up and coming Brooklyn institution has hit the jackpot with its latest exhibit, titled “House of Wax” for which a well-attended opening night party was held on a late October Friday night at their 3rd Avenue establishment in the borough’s Park Slope section. Custom craftsman and bone collector Ryan Matthew Cohn served as curator of the exhibition which featured a collection of wax figures which he was fortunate enough to obtain from a long-defunct German “panopticum,” actually a 19th century museum of sorts. He spoke at length about the provenance and historical significance of his acquisition. He led the crowd of attendees in a champagne toast to kick things off. VIPs were also treated to cocktails provided courtesy of Hendricks Gin.

Ryan Matthew Cohn

In the 19th century and early 20th century, before the advent of cinema and related media, entertainment-seekers and those in pursuit of knowledge outside their limited scope used to pay to attend waxwork venues where they could view highly realistic effigies representing everything about which they harbored morbid curiosity disguised as academic interest. This particular selection represents the assemblage from “Castan’s Panopticum” which was in business in Berlin from 1869 – 1922 and contains life-sized, anatomical abnormalities (with an emphasis on genitalia and private parts), exaggerated caricature busts of human ethnic examples, the death masks of famous historical figures (Napoleon, Kaiser Wilhelm I, Mary Queen of Scots, et al.), a few versions of the pregnant uterus with various obstetrical predicaments, as well as internal and external disease processes and more. Think Madame Tussaud’s crossed with the Mutter Museum.

Two “Anatomical Venuses” in foreground, Ryan Matthew Cohn in background, left

Foremost, and occupying the center of the exhibition room are a couple of examples of what is termed “Anatomical Venus” — beautifully idealized, complete human female figures with their innards revealed, all lovingly rendered in wax sculpture. Professor Rebecca Messberger informed the listeners about the place of women, not just as the subjects of anatomical wax sculpture, but she also referred to the 18th century Italian sculptor, Anna Morandi, known as the “Lady Anatomist” who was a supreme artist in this medium.

Professor Rebecca Messbarger

This exhibit represent the fifth such setup at this fledgling Morbid Anatomy Museum since its opening last June, each of which has been more elaborate, more organized and more fascinating than the one before it. By presenting “House of Wax,” the Museum has captured the very essence of what the institution is all about, its “core” mission, which from this perspective appears to be education, entertainment and bemusement of an audience of gutsy, curious and unconventional museum-goers.

Metanoia

Nothing is quite as effective —not love, not drugs —as emotional or mental breakdown to inspire artistic expression. It is particularly fortuitous when that kind of affliction befalls a really talented artist like Chris Corner, the composer, producer, multi-instrumentalist, vocalist and video artist fronting the synthpop group IAMX. His sixth album, titled “Metanoia,” meaning a profound, spiritual, transformation, reportedly represents his recovery from depression and insomnia. Indeed, the fervor and creative vigor of this eleven-track opus bespeaks just such a wrenching transformation.

Fans of IAMX need not fear, however, that Chris Corner has changed his style of vocal clarity as well as ferocity. On the contrary more than any prior work, this album captures the inimitable power and frank beauty of his androgynous, wide-ranging and confrontational singing, whether fashioning delicious hooks, operatic flourishes or delicate autobiographical narratives.

All of this is incorporated in the most mesmerizing, irresistible dance grooves and complex synthetic rhythms. Dance clubs will treasure this repertoire, whether playing galloping, unstoppable juggernauts like “No Maker Made Me,” or the plodding, slow-paced “Hello Melancholia.” Noteworthy are the bluesy, yet danceable eighth track, “Cruel Darkness Embrace Me” and the wild, wanton and relentless “Aphrodisiac.”

Every track is written in a minor key, which confirms the emotional depression that inspired the entire opus. Some tracks feature a mournful female chorus, others cadenced scraping industrial noises. Did I mention that this dark, really dark —even deliciously dark music?

At least ten tracks feature memorable, seductive melodies and compelling tempos. It lends itself to exceptional listening or dancing pleasure. Gloomy as the entire album seems, if it purports to represent actual recovery, I don’t want to know what that depression was like.

NOIR
Arkham at Don Pedro’s

September 26, 2015
By Doktor John
Brooklyn, NY

Synthpop trio Noir made a late night appearance at the Brooklyn dive bar Don Pedro’s the last Saturday of September. Don Pedro’s is a suitable venue: long and narrow, with a bar in the entry area and a performance space occupying the back half, featuring a small, raised stage. Bare brick walls, one un-lockable toilet and another “out-of-order,” give it just the kind of broken-utilitarian atmosphere that suits the punk/Gothrock experience. Before, during and after the live music performance, a movie screen served as the backdrop to the stage. A continuous video loop was projected on the back wall of the stage and ran a grainy, black-&-white, silent flick from 1922 showing medieval peasants and sexually depraved monks engaged in witch-hunting, accompanied by subtitles in English and Danish. All the stuff that sets the proper mood.

Such was the milieu for Noir, fronted by vocalist Athan Maroulis, formerly of Spahn Ranch and Black Tape for a Blue Girl. He was accompanied by two keyboardists/back-up vocalists, Demetra Songs and Kai Irina Hahn, the latter a noted singer, song writer and performance artist in her own right, whose project, The Sedona Effect has taken NYC underground scene by storm of late.

Noir’s set consisted of nine songs, six of which were drawn from Noir’s 2013 album “Darkly Near.” The opening number, “The Bells” captures Noir’s style of catchy hooks and undulating melodies, sung over driving electronic rhythms. The next song, “My Dear” delved into even more serpentine, atonal progressions, rendered — like the entire set — hypnotic by the galloping, cadenced rhythms provided by the two synthesizers. The third piece provided an opportunity to introduce a decidedly industrial mood with the resurrection of the Spahn Ranch anthem “Breath and Taxes.” The crowd of thirty to fifty spectators responded with pleasure and recognition to this bit of musical nastiness.

The next several pieces “Time Phase,” “A Forest” and “When the Rains Came” were drawn from “Darkly Near,” and each again highlighted Maroulis’ unusual and undulant, sometimes discordantly melodious vocals. Before closing, there was a return to Spahn Ranch’s industrial-strength repertoire with “Vortex” and the concluding number, “Heretic’s Fork.”

The combination of originality in composition, vocal expertise and mastery of electronic musicianship held the crowd in thrall, and made it well worth it for us to have traveled out into the land of scarce parking spaces, the Brooklyn demimonde, for this highly enjoyable late night entertainment.

36″ X 24″ Acrylic on Canvas
Features the artist, Federico Castelluccio (on ladder); his assistant (me, Doktor John) standing back by Myke Hideous behind Cemetery & Western singer-songwriter Mark Sinnis. Miz Margo in foreground, left; Madame X and Marzena in doorway, right, just behind staggering singer-songwriter and photo-journalist Mark Steiner.