In Memoriam: Peter Steele  Jan. 4, 1962 - April 14, 2010

April 17, 2010

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MATT

Peter Steele was born on January 4, 1962, in Brooklyn, New York. He would go on to found two legendary bands: Carnivore and Tye O Negative, the latter of which catapulted him to international stardom. Most recognizable for his distinctive singing voice, Peter became a rock star and sex symbol in the 1990s. He struggled for years with depression and drug addiction, and his sardonic wit in both his lyrics and in his public life helped many people cope with struggles in their own lives. In 2005, Type O Negative posted an image of a gravestone on their website reading "Peter Steele is dead", but unlike five years ago, the announcement on April 14, 2010, that he had died was not a joke. After getting sober and finding faith in the Catholic Church, Peter died of apparent heart failure at the age of forty-eight. We at Metal Psalter extend our deepest condolences to Peter's family, friends, and fans. He touched many lives, including those of Metal Psalter staff. We asked the staff to share their thoughts and memories of Peter and his life's work, and we hope it is a fitting tribute to this towering figure in American heavy metal.                              Matt

Peter Steele

January 4, 1962
April 14, 2010

Growing up I was influenced by all of different kinds of music. I discovered Carnivore in 1986 when I went to college. Some of my new classmates were into punk and hardcore while I was more into heavy metal and thrash. Carnivore with their crossover sound, helped forge a friendship between us all. I remember those days fondly. Later, when Carnivore dissolved and Type O Negative was formed I sort of lost touch with what Peter was doing but always had immense respect for him and all his bands. I do enjoy some TON and am happy that Peter left us with a great legacy of music. It always seems too soon when we lose someone we cherish, no matter their age.                                    M.J.


For all the crap that I went through in high school and part of my college life, I found comfort in Type O Negative's music. Even when I finally broke out of those doldrums, the band's music has stayed with me right up to now. I feel especially privileged to have actually seen Type O Negative live, as now, that opportunity will never happen again. Rest in peace, and know that your music will be part of your legacy as much as it was a soundtrack to my horrible years.                                                                                              Peter


While it always sucked to wait about 5 years between Type O Negative albums, it was always worth the wait. I remember the personal agony waiting for "Life is Killing Me" and how material on "World Coming Down" hit home. I will always remember the wicked mosh pits Type O Negative would induce at Harpo's in Detroit. All these folks who liked the singles from "October Rust" would show up and not expect the hardcore fans who prefered songs like "Xero Tolerance." Peter Steel was quite an original. From his twisted sense of humor, great lyrics, distincitive bass and commanding vocals, the Metal world has suffered a huge loss. Thanks for timeless music, Peter. Here's to seeing you in that at Halloween party in Heaven.                                                  Rottenbucher


Saint Peter
Tonight I light a candle, a candle for Saint Peter. The guardian Adonis of the darkness.

Tonight, I drink a glass of wine for Saint Peter. A warm, blood red elixir to numb the pain. Red to stain my lips in his memory.

I dyed my hair ‘Black No. 1’ once. Just as he had said, and I prayed to the ‘Green Man.’ Just like he had said. I danced and played like a ‘Cinnamon Girl,’ and relaxed in the ‘Summer Breeze.’ All the while hoping I would never hear some on calling ‘Hey Peter.’

He inspired my metamorphosis, my change- from perky little cheerleader to proto-gothic vamp. I grew from that, becoming a metallic butterfly, but there was always that warm spot deep inside reserved especially for the voice and the memories it inspired.

I would hear his voice and instantly melt feelings of passion and lust bubbling up at the utterance of a single word. And then the day came…

My stomach lurched, and I felt sick as realized that the darkest voice that comforts many has gone from the world. The deep velvety voice of evil will no longer croon to sad little girls like the one that still dwells within myself.

And yet all I can think is that the voice of darkness has gone from the world. And he will be missed. Not only by his friends and family, but by fans, like me, the world over. And I mourn.

I do not mourn for the man I had never known, but for the fact there will be nothing new from him for us to enjoy. I understand now what John Denver meant when he sang about ‘the day the music died.’ The music died a little bit every time we lose another great like Saint Peter.

Though, in a way, I do mourn the man, I also very, very deeply mourn the loss of the art that came from his soul. The art that touched and inspired so many.

And so, tonight, I light a candle for Saint Peter. The patron saint of the darkness within.
                                                                                                                                                             Kesh


The Death of Peter Steele
As a thirty-eight-year-old man I have come to realize a few key points to life at this stage.

First, it is not viable to hit everything you are mad at, be it people, places, things. There are indelible consequences to this little act of aggression.

Second, in the immortal words of Warrel Dane: "Nothing's forever so count your days." When I think back on my life I seriously mourn what I had, squandered like nickels and dimes, and now can barely remember let alone retrieve.

Third, everything we care for and admire will eventually, sadly, leave us. Like taxes, death is unavoidable, often unexpected and never easy.

I was a very casual fan of Peter Steele. His work in Carnivore impressed the hell out of this teenage kid from Chicago's southwest side because it was the alpha male at his unambiguous worst. As he eventually moved on to Type O Negative, his Gothic metal outfit, I followed with a somewhat stifling interest, to this very day the cover version of Seals and Croft's "Summer Breeze" resonates like a ghost story so chilling you can't shake its effects for some time after. To hear of his passing, no matter what type of fan, leaves an emptiness and a hole not easily filled.

John Lennon's passing five days after my eighth birthday left an indelible impression on me, one that remains vivid and somewhat suffocating to this very day. There are people we don't know, have never known, that touch us and move us to a higher (or lower) plane of existence. Often we miss the subtle nuances that make up this shift in our lives, but when we do realize it we can either embrace the change in seasons or shuffle on as if nothing has changed. It's usually after the death of that person (or thing if you so choose) that we realize just how close we were to someone we never knew.

Mr. Steele's presence, all six-foot-eight, was imposing, even frightening to the uninformed person; his fixed scowl was what a Dani Filth could never employ on his best day. Whatever demons Mr. Steele might have had in his past (and hell, who among us doesn't dodge the entities?) he managed to find his peace with them and shift his own personal direction to a positive slant. I've always been a huge proponent of the "whatever gets you through the day" mentality; if one needs the image of God, or Buddha, or a Tiffany's lamp in the foyer to regain control of the reins, have at it. Life is too short to worry how and where you find your peace, as long as it finds you. Mr. Steele, at the very least, found the control he was missing for many years and his life ended with as much control as he could have.

His fans, and there are many, will mourn him, eulogize him both publicly and privately, weep for him and keep his memory alive with loop sessions of his music as they come to terms with their own personal loss. In his own words, everything dies, but it never truly expires while there is at least one person willing to remember what the person was and the legacy he or she left. Peter Steele had a legacy that will undoubtedly be kept alive for generations to come. His legacy is ours to keep and covet in a dark veiled existence he would have probably had a good, somber laugh at. However, when you read the lyrics to "Everything Dies" from World Coming Down it's hard to not feel those words as tiny glass shards hitting every pressure point in the body.

Enjoy his music, enjoy his legacy, then remember him as he was. It's a thank-you gift to him.                                                                                                                                                     Chris

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