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REMEMBERING PETER STEELE 1962 – 2010

Posted on April 15, 2010

It is with great sadness that we report the news that Peter Steele, iconic frontman of Brooklyn goth-metal legends Type O Negative, passed away at 6pm yesterday due to heart failure.

With a sense of humor blacker than the clothing he wore, the sarcastic messages in songs like “Set Me on Fire,” “I Don’t Want to Be Me” and an album entitled Life is Killing Me once viewed as darkly tongue-in-cheek now take on a more gloomy meaning as we remember the man who wrote them. SVP of A&R Monte Conner, who originally signed Type O Negative to Roadrunner Records in 1989 puts it best, saying:

“We have lost several Roadrunner artists over the years but this is a biggie – this one hurts the most, not just because Peter was a great, great guy, but he figures so prominently in the history of this company (our first Gold album, our first radio success). He was a tortured soul for most of his life and certainly for the entire time we all knew him. Let’s hope he is in a better place.”

Pete Steele was surely a man who towered over everyone he met, not just in his physical stature but in his personality riddled with humor and heartache. His dramatic baritone voice carried foreboding lyrics about death and despair over electronic chaos and bottom-heavy guitars, proving to become not only the band’s signature, but a sound unmatched ever since Type O’s inception. With profound distaste and disgust for both humanity and political correctness, Type O Negative

never changed with the times – the times changed with them. Marked by sharp wit and bouts of gloom ‘n depression, Peter Steele and the Drab Four rewarded their listeners with what can only be expected from the Brooklyn doom squad: A nihilistic world view, anthems of sex and death, and a blinding torch of well-placed fury.

VP of Promotions Mark Abramson recalls his time spent working with Peter and Type O, saying: “I remember getting the demo tape of Repulsion (soon to be renamed Type O Negative) and feeling this visceral outpouring of rage in a way that very few records hit me.

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