Darkness visible
A massive instance of early goth has rematerialised. Jim Irvin walks into it.
The ’70s were scary; IRA bombings, power cuts and wildcat strikes just three reasons to be fearful. One way of controlling the unsettling mood was to reproduce it, embrace the horror, release the bats. Goth emerged (no other word) around Siouxsie And The Banshees’ debut album (1978). Early icons were Joy Division, who didn’t consider themselves gothic, though Martin Hannett and Peter Saville’s aesthetic decided it for them. But no one was labelling it yet. When Abbo of UK Decay called his band “punk gothique” in 1979 he foreshadowed an oncoming firework display in negative, a seven-year reign of darkness. Siouxsie and Robert Smith of The Cure defined the look and moved on. The sound took longer to solidify, if it ever did. Root-note basslines, thumping drums or drum machines, cavernous reverbs, brow-knitted vocals and enervated tempos all had their place, but goth wasn’t a sound so much as an unease made manifest. The Birthday Party could articulate it with a sense of humour, making the daft extremity of Release The Bats (1981) actually uplifting. Others chose merely to wallow in the mire. Silhouettes & Statues (Cherry Red) HHH is a very well-considered 5-disc box, including all the acts above (minus Siouxsie) and showing how goth – not a movement, more a clumping of introspective outliers – touched a multitude of bases. Natasha Scharf’s sleevenotes pinpoint Bauhaus’s appearance on TV show Riverside in February 1982 as the moment goth came above ground. Bauhaus extrapolated one great tune, Bela Lugosi’s Dead (not here) into several careers, their multiple offshoots Tones On Tail, Love And Rockets and Dali’s Car are all present too. Other key influencers were Sisters Of Mercy, superior writers who did conjure some threat and mystery. Lesser lights like Gene Loves Jezebel or Theatre Of Hate found temporary favour thanks to a good hairdo or two. Skeletal Family and Bone Orchard could be genuinely chilling. As could In The Nursery, here apparently soundtracking an horrific rally in an abattoir. The compilers jump around chronologically and include things no one considered goth at the time – The Chameleons, The Bolshoi and Nevilluxury – which may confuse neophytes. But all their choices speak of the times. Quite apart from bands that embraced the aesthetic wholeheartedly – The Screaming Dead, Anaemic Dead, Fields Of The Nephilim – are the acts whom shadow dwellers admired, PiL, Nico, Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, Associates. They are all here too, letting in some comparative sunlight. It all ends around 1986 when things start to get glossy – All About Eve, The Mission. Five discs are more than enough. It’s a tough night in for fans of harmony. The parade of monotonous voices – Section 25, Clock DVA, Southern Death Cult, Alien Sex Fiend, Ausgang, many more – becomes oppressive pretty quickly, but one flees this bustling crypt with a real sense of a generation getting something out of its system.
“GOTH WASN’T A SOUND SO MUCH AS AN UNEASE MADE MANIFEST.”