October the 13th.
Friday the 13th.
Goth-Fucking-Tober deluxe, baby.
And as you can hear, I did not got wih Bela Lugosi’s Dead.
I could have.
I really wanted to.
But it would have been too easy. Too on the nose.
(Also, it’s not a “birth of goth” playlist, so I have /some/ leeway in choosing song.)
Instead I chose a 11 minute long monstrosity of a song that’s just perfect for the intersection of Friday the 13th and this little project.
It’s dark. It’s cheesy. It’s self-referential. It’s brooding. It’s erotic. It’s funny as hell.
It is the platonic ideal of something Goths should always remember: There IS a life outside Goth. Especially when it comes to humour and levity. And with some people in the 90s… Yeah. That was a thing that needed to be addressed.
It’s basically the anti-Eldritch song.
Whenver I go out dancing, hearing the opening riff never fails to put a huge grin on my face and lure back on the dancefloor. No matter how tired. (And when you’re in a cool club, with cool people, you will also experience a dancefloor full of goths doing the Addams-Family-Snap in synchronized unison, while dancing, which is always a fucking /blast/!)
You can sway to it, you can dance to it, you can headbang to it, you can even mosh to it, if you so desire. A proper multi-purpose song.
Like with so many other songs on here, I have host of memories connected to Black No.1.
Some romantic, some sexual, some platonic, some simply hilarious.
When I still had a car with a MP3-CD capable sound system, I would be creating new playlist-CDs for driving on a weekly basis.
“Driving to Uni”, “Driving to work”, “Driving to the Club”, “Night-driving”, “Rain-driving”, “Night-Rain-driving”… It got pretty fucking ridiculous pretty damn quickly. I still own most of them. I should recreate them on Spotify. … Yeah. When I ever should feel the most soul crushing boredom on a day with literally nothing else to do.
Anyway… 2004/2005 I had a semi-blind date. How I got to it is another comedy of errors, but that’s for another post. What’s important is that I made a CD for said date, as it involved picking her up and driving to my then favourite club. (The “Saint”). I had met her once before, and we would meet a mutual friend there, so it wasn’t as awkward as it might have been.
But still… Back then, dates were still slightly anxiety creating affairs for me. So I was a bit mumbly and awkward and the drive quickly descended into the kind of awkward silence that only awkward dates can create. A kind of black hole where hope goes to die. Every moment in it, you just think: “Well, shit. I’ll never see her again after this…”
And then, Black No.1 came on.
And she started smiling.
So I turned up the volume, and opened up the driver’s side window.
And then… She started singing along. Happily. Which made me join in as well, in a pretty subdued manner.
And THEN, several minutes in, came the “Was like fucking the dead” part.
And when that part came along, she turned to me, grinned, looked me in the eye, and said it with such force and commitment, that I was stunned for a few moments. When I recovered I just grinned back. And we continued singing.
After the song ended, we proceeded to talk like normal human beings. We joked, we asked questions, we had fun.
We continued to have fun at the club, and I was invited to drive her back home.
We saw each other again. And while it developed into a really intense affair with a few “That shit only happens in movies…” moments, it never became a relationship. But it became a truly wonderful friendship with trust, long talks and sessions of music-backed cuddling and silence. So, well, the /best/ kind of friendship.
Happy Friday the 13th to all of you out there!
Go hug a friend. :)