As he lay there playing games with his pain, he felt his choice of jobs was such a mistake. He could have been a doctor in a soft easy chair. Instead his choose three stars, a territorial affair. Terror couple kill colonel . . .
~ ~ Bauhaus, Terror Couple Kill Colonel (4-AD Records, 1980).
We were driving on Interstate 80, through the center of Florida, after tripping hard all day at DisneyWorld's Magic Kingdom in Orlando, with Bauhaus blaring on the stereo.
We had to drive the Mustang home to Tampa, a good 80 to 100 miles. We'd been planning on sleeping another night in Orlando before undertaking the drive, but for one reason or other, that plan was untenable. So drive it was, despite hallucinating fiercely and struggling to make out the road amongst the visions. (We had taken incredibly strong acid, psychedelic in the purest sense of the word. We'd first dropped acid, whilst entering Disney's park at 9AM, then dropped another hit of at 4PM in Tomorrow Land. By the time we hit the highway, it was around 10PM with no sign of decreased tripping.
Suddenly, my companion said to me out of the darkness to my right, just audible over the blasting stereo: "This is not music to do my homework by."
Maybe not while driving and tripping, but Bauhaus's "Bela Lugosi's Dead,"--nine-plus minutes of rock history recorded in just one take--sure made for an amazing soundscape to drive through tripping. Homework was just one of many activities I'd undertake while listening to Bauhaus.
For a long time, Bauhaus was 'the' band for me. Fronted by Peter Murphy's inestimable vocals, with David J. (Haskins) playing bass, Kevin Haskins on drums, and Daniel Ash's absolutely incomparable guitar, this quartet created my daily soundtrack: the sounds I most enjoyed listening to for years.
First formed as Bauhaus 1919, in recognition of the early 20th century design and art movement, they soon dropped the 1919, and publicly debut as Bauhaus on New Years Eve, 1978. Bauhaus immediately let the world know, in no uncertain terms, that it was in for something very different, when they released "Bela Lugosi's Dead" in August 1979 (with the brilliant "Boys" B-side on the Small Wonder label). Dramatic and in-your-face different.
During their live shows, Bauhaus held the public at arms-length, creating shadows with both light and music, pounding out sounds that their audience had never heard before. They used only white lights, because, as their official bio argues: "Colored lights are for Christmas trees." Fair enough.
Bauhaus released three singles in 1980 ("Dark Entries," "Terror Couple Kill Colonel," and the T-Rex cover, "Telegram Sam"), and their debut album, In the Flat Field. (4-AD). After touring the US in September 1980 and again in February 1981, Bauhaus switched to the Beggars Banquet label. They immediately released the single "Kick in the Eye," closely followed by "Spirit," and then their second album Mask (1981). Sky's Gone Out and the live album Press Eject and Give Me The Tape followed in 1982.
Although the Goth superstars broke up in 1983, after Burning From The Inside, they continued to release posthumous albums. A new generation of Goth fans have discovered Bauhaus through 1979-83: Volume 1 (1986), Swing The Heartache: BBC Sessions (1986), In The Flat Field (1998), Crackle: Best of Bauhaus (1998), and Gotham (1999). Bauhaus are more popular today than ever.
Bauhaus evoked (not simply copying) bands such as The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, T-Rex, and, of course, David Bowie. When Bowie starred, alongside Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve, in The Hunger (1983), one of the best vampire films ever made, Bauhaus performed "Bela Lugosi's Dead." Surely an appropriate song for a film that features a beautiful lesbian love-making/blood-drinking scene (the kind that Hammer Films always wanted to do, but couldn't quite pull off).
Bauhaus ripped out its own legendary place in pop music history with style, energy, and spirit. When I was growing up in beach-town Florida, they were unlike any other band I'd ever head before (or since). Bauhaus added motifs from classical music, which I was familiar with from church, into their rock 'n' roll mix. I was always guaranteed glares and a good amount of personal space whilst blasting Bauhaus songs like "Lagarita Nick," "St. Vitus Dance," "Crowds," or "Stigmata Martyr," from my boom-box on Sarasota’s sunny beach. It was brutal, yet sophisticated music.
Bauhaus videos (when I could get my hands on them) were darker, harder, and visceral, than any of the South's so-called "hard rock" bands. Although Bauhaus ended in 1983, the band's members continued to work with creative projects (which I also like), including Tones on Tail, Love and Rockets, Dalis Car, and Peter Murphy's solo recordings. I once saw Murphy perform, but I never got the chance to experience Bauhaus live. Not their first time around.
In August 1998, at a Creatures/John Cale show at Club Life on Bleecker Street (New York City), a friend asked me, "Going to the Bauhaus show?"
Bauhaus show? What Bauhaus show?
"Yeah, they had tickets for sale, for September 10th, but those sold out immediately."
Oh, shit.
"But they've added another show on the 11th. Tickets go on sale in the morning."
September 11th just happens to be my birthday. So, next morning I was up early, ready to get some tickets. I had to pass a long line of eager young Goth kids, who waiting to buy Bauhaus tickets from the Irving Plaza venue's TicketMaster service, while on my way to this other 'secret' TicketMaster outlet that I know of. Poor kids--I don't know how many kids managed to get tickets, Goth kids who sat in a line that stretched down the street and around the corner --but I got the two I wanted.
I was very excited to see my favorite band of all time. They played the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City (the same hall where Disinfo.con 2000 was held). I had seen Jane's Addiction play the Hammerstein Ballroom, recently before, and almost got crushed by the violent crowd on the floor. My girlfriend and I decided the balcony was the place to be during a sold-out show, since I wanted to see and hear Bauhaus, not fight off massive waves of people all night. We walked in just as the band began to play, so putting our stuff in our chairs, we started dancing right away.
Seconds into the song, there was a tap on my back. "Hey pal, you’re going to have to sit down. I want to see."
Sit down? During a Bauhaus concert? Are you out of your mind?
He was, and was serious. Rather than fight, we moved, with a lot of ugly words from my girlfriend directed his way. The crowd wasn't as rowdy as I'd expected, but the show was deafening rock 'n' roll, keeping most of the crowd, including us, moving the entire time. Even with their use of limited colored lighting. Couldn't have asked for a much better birthday than one spent at a Bauhaus gig. It was like experiencing time-travel.
The members continue to work on their separate projects. Daniel Ash is currently performing solo, and has a new single, "Burning Man," due out any day now. Kevin Haskins plays drums, with Flea of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers on bass, in a song called "A System For Shutting Everything Out," for Alison Anders's film Things Behind the Sun, which premiered at the 2001 Sundance Film Festival.
Listening to Bauhaus these days, I could certainly do homework, and more. But I don't drive whilst tripping anymore, with or without Bauhaus blasting from the stereo.