I heard a new song today- by all my faith lost from a tribute to black tape for a blue girl. It’s ethereal and lovely, all magical forest and slanted light through branches, seedpods drifting. It took me back immediately to being a teenager and started me thinking about my strange mixture of musical influences.
Black tape, Gitane Demone and Christian Death, Clan of Xymox, Faith and the Muse…these were the Victorian side of my personality, the part of me that felt I’d been born long past my time, that felt this modern world to be garish and unseemly. Too many silicone breasts and blaring infomercials shoved up against me, rubbing me raw. The part of me that skipped school just so I could read more books. My memories of these bands are draped in endless yards of black lace, dragged out of dusty thrift-store boxes, tied up in black velvet ribbons and smeared with venomous red lipstick. Black fingernails, glistening spiderwebs, surf bats. I remember lying on the floor dreaming with a moon-pale, stick-thin strawberry girl, debating the merits of Billie Holiday singing Gloomy Sunday versus the Gitane version. Of course Billie won. Every single time.