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Rating: “He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you” (F.W. Nietzsche).
Sometimes, in the arcane fluctuations of the human soul, the twirls of existence take on unpredictable outlines: socialized masks to sublimate primordial frustrations and vital folds of a Pirandellian flavor, transmute those who traverse them into both author and victim of themselves. The chronicles, especially those of artistic expressions, seethe with the arrogant prosceniums of this kind: pretending to feel to be, identifying with it until irreversibly sticking oneself into one's cliché.
In the Dark scenarios, this process has enveloped many personalities with particularly contradictory and vivid natures: above all, the most darkly radiant podium perhaps belongs to Peter Steele, a shadowy and hieratic jester of the most depraved Brooklyn. A cursed standard-bearer of a rare cursus disonorum, he poured into his creation all the enormity of his sulfurous Ego.
And indeed, while all the works of Type O Negative fully reflect the lacerating darkness infested in the soul of their anti-ideologue leader, there is one in particular where his inner disarray resigns to portray all the desolation of a mephitic existential irreversibility. "World Coming Down" emerged at the death of the old millennium, discoloring a particularly ominous slice of the Mastermind's life, making him consider it the nadir of his career. No critical autosuggestion was ever more false; it is from sincerely annihilated inspirations that the most fruitful pathos flourishes luxuriantly: stripped with commanding humility from the most hypocritical paper-mâché of sentimental marketing, it exhibits in all its depth the genuine weaknesses of the perceiver.
And so Skip it, simulating an artificial cd glitch, preludes to the first real track of the platter: White Slavery, a colossal bastion in which Steele's (self)destructive vein lashes out with all the darkest essence of his soul (The summer snow, but it’s not cold. Once it’s tested, thus infected. I’ve lost myself again. I’ve lost myself again it’s a nightmare but it’s clear.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
05 Who Will Save the Sane? (06:41)
Periodic tableware psychotropic science fare But who will - save the sane some beings - just can't change now - crawl on by - a fake - tear in your eye and think - isn't he strange Pseudogasmic chemistry necromorphic apathy But who will - save the sane some beings - just can't change now - crawl on by - a fake - tear in your eye and think - isn't he strange Physical laws unapplied - hamper my - quest unsurreal world of unfailed - HIV - tests der ubermensch warning of pi techno junkies - 3.141592653 come on boy - tell me - tell me Tentative ambulance date - bound for G - ward beartrap psychiatrist bait - chew my paw - off unmercilessly we will take you away to slumber but only if you can recite avogadro's number come on boy - tell me - tell me But who will - save the sane some beings - just can't change now - crawl on by - a fake - tear in your eye and think - isn't he strange Now - crawl on by - a fake tear in your eye and think - wasn't he strange
09 Everything Dies (07:43)
Well I loved my aunt
But she died
And my uncle Lou
Then he died
I'm searching for something which can't be found
But I'm hoping
I still dream of dad
Though he died
Everything dies
Everything dies
My ma's so sick she might die
Though my girl's quite fit she will die
Still looking for someone who was around
Barely coping
Now I hate myself
Wish I'd die
Everything dies
Everything dies
Everything dies
Everything
(No why)
Oh god I miss you
(No why)
Oh god I miss you
I really miss you
(no no no no)
Everything dies
Everything dies
Everything dies
Everything
11 Pyretta Blaze (06:57)
Beautiful yet dangerous
Thermogenic, luminous
Like a moth drawn to a flame
I'm the same
All cremated equally
As a spark still I knew
I'll be lured, be consumed
She a pyre incarnate, incinerate
An inferno turned to flesh
You are the first
Will be my last
Will be my final words
(said she)
Pyretta blaze
Say the words
I long to hear
Pinch, bite, kiss, suck, lick and sear
In a pyromantic way
I'm her slave
Living for her to ignite
12 All Hallows Eve (08:35)
Fall fires burn 'neath
Black twisted boughs
Sacrifice to above
Smoke swirling quickly
Towards misting clouds
Offering of this blood
Into the flames
And without shame
Consumed with howls
And screams
Pumpkins grin
In their despair
On all...Hallows Eve!
Cruel be the wind
As it quells my words
I shout out to the rain
Incantations I so hoped
You've heard
That you live again
From deep Earth
Brings forth rebirth
Witness but I shant believe
From below a chilling glow
On all...Hallows Eve!
Be spiderwebbed
And glazed in frost
She wears death beautifully
More stunning now
Than in her life
On a bed of Autumn leaves
Into her eyes
And quite surprised
I whispered
"Don't you leave"
Sing macabre songs
And we'll dance 'til dawn
On all...Hallow's Eve!
Saint Lucifer hear me
Praying to thee
On this eve of all saints
High be the price
But then nothing is free
My soul I'll gladly trade, all Hallow's Eve, all Hallow's Eve
Cold is the night
In so many ways
Luna round, full and bright
Deep be the mud
On the fresh dug graves
On yours I recite
An ancient spell
I know so well
Success is guaranteed
I'll bring you back
From where you've gone
On all...Hallow's Eve!
Saint Lucifer hear me
Praying to thee
On this eve of all saints
High be the price
But then nothing is free
My soul I'll gladly trade, all Hallows Eve, all Hallows Eve..
13 Day Tripper (medley) (07:02)
Originally performed by The Beatles
Got a good reason for taking the easy way out,
Got a good reason for taking the easy way out now,
She was a day tripper,
One way ticket, yeh!
It took me so long to find out,
And I found out.
She's a big teaser she took me half the way there,
She's a big teaser she took me half the way there now,
She was a day tripper,
One way ticket, yeh!
It took me so long to find out,
And I found out.
Tried to please her,
She only played one night stands tried to please her,
She only played one night stands now.
She was a day tripper,
Sunday driver, yeh!
It took me so long to find out,
And I found out,
Day tripper, yeh!
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Other reviews
By Senmayan
Peter Steel’s lyrics are no longer ironic but truly filled with suffering and depression, and the music reflects all of that.
For me, it’s a small masterpiece, probably the most sincere and least self-celebratory work of Type.
