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"There&amp;apos;s something odd about watching Peter Steele, the hulking\nfrontman from Type O Negative, whose detractors have labeled him\nfascist, racist and misogynistic. But lately, the 6&amp;apos;7,&amp;quot; 200-pound\nSteele is all smiles, waves and cute stage antics. Picture the\ndoggedly self-obsessed singer/bassist posing under dim, red lights,\nwearing a light blue muscle shirt, air-tight black jeans and a\nblack bass cutting into his thigh, while Gregorian chants and\nmetal-scraping-metal sounds fill the air already dense with incense\nand smoke. Suddenly, the man with cheekbones the size of Brooklyn\ncracks a smile and waves beauty queen-style at the front row. Has\nSteele become the Madonna of\nacid-goth?\nNo long ago, Type O was a politically charged soapbox with a rep\nfor being ultra right wing. Just look back a few years at\npolitically-charged songs like &amp;quot;Der Untermensch&amp;quot; or \n&amp;quot;We Hate Everyone.&amp;quot; If Tuesday night&amp;apos;s show at the Electric\nBallroom was any indicator, things have changed for the vampiric\nfoursome. Ever since Steele bared all for Playgirl in &amp;apos;95, Type O\nhas ditched politics for peace, love and harmonies.\nTheir fans, however, haven&amp;apos;t changed much. The room was mostly\nfilled with multi-pierced goth-heads who looked like victims of a\nhuman dart contest. They hung on every note as Type O waded through\nthe wet, sludgy &amp;quot;Love You To Death&amp;quot; and a particularly dirgeful\ncover of Neil Young&amp;apos;s &amp;quot;Cinnamon Girl.&amp;quot;\nThen they grew quiet when Steele bellowed into the mic, &amp;quot;We\nsincerely apologize to the fans of Neil Young for the mutilation of\n&amp;apos;Cinnamon\nGirl.&amp;apos; If it&amp;apos;s any consolation, Mr. Young didn&amp;apos;t like the\nversion either.&amp;quot;\n\nClearly, music merely provided texture for a stage show loaded\nwith sexual innuendo and comedy. Steele rolled his R&amp;apos;s like an\nItalian lover throughout the orgasmic grind of &amp;quot;Wolf\nMoon&amp;quot; and suggestively slid his hand up the neck of his bass\nduring the wet, sludgy choruses of &amp;quot;Christian Woman.&amp;quot; He even\nfeigned playing his guitar with his teeth as an appropriate\nmetallic effect emanated from the PA.\nThe highlight of the evening occurred during &amp;quot;Too Late: Frozen,&amp;quot;\nwhen snow machines on either side of the stage produced a massive\nblizzard. Keyboardist Josh Silver, who&amp;apos;s hair has gotten bigger\nsince the last album, looked like the Puli on the cover of Beck&amp;apos;s\n&amp;quot;Odelay&amp;quot; frolicking in a snowstorm.\nAs if that wasn&amp;apos;t comedy enough, the band launched into a weak\nversion of the Doors&amp;apos; &amp;quot;Light My Fire.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I have a really good song\nand we&amp;apos;re here to ruin it,&amp;quot; confessed Steele. It was a promise\nwell-kept. The goulash that ensued -- Steele&amp;apos;s blood-curdling howl\njuxtaposed against Kenny Hickey&amp;apos;s watered down guitar riffs and\nJohnny Kelly&amp;apos;s surfer beats -- undoubtedly had Jim Morrison rolling\n(not rocking) in his grave."^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/live-report-type-o-negative-in-arizona-19970214>