Never one to firmly adhere to any single subculture, I largely demurred, in my youth, from fully defining myself as “a Goth” or “a Punk” or “a metalhead” or whatever. Not only did these tribal descriptors all seem too limiting (and, ultimately, sorta silly), but I don’t know that I fully belonged in any subcategory. I had too many Marillion, Yes and Pink Floyd records to cut it as a punk, way too many Devo records to render me eligible to be a full-time metalhead and liked a whole bunch of stuff that would have probably made a Goth purist gag. I mean, sure, I adored Acid Bath by Alien Sex Fiend, Dawnrazor by Fields of the Nephilim and Do You Believe In the Westworld? by Theatre of Hate, but I also really dug …. I dunno, Mothership Connection by Parliament, Arrival by Abba and the first Boston record. I just liked different music. That’s not a testament to my arguable eclecticism so much as a self-disqualifying acknowledgment.
This all said, I wasn’t entirely immune to the some of the tonsorial and sartorial trappings of those communities, and I’d cherry-pick from each, depending on my mood. See pic above of the 19-year-old me letting my Goth flag fly, as it were, in July of 1987.
Given my not-always-entirely-sunny outlook on life, I did go through periods of sporting a lot of black. I still do, for that matter, but as I am prone to attest, I used to wear a lot of black because of bands like The Stranglers, The Sisters of Mercy and The Misfits. Now I wear back because ... it’s slimming.
Anyway, today is evidently World Goth Day. While I absolutely no longer care what music from whichever subculture or genre is credibly deemed hip or cool –- especially in an era when hip and cool seem to be defined by artless garbage (why name names?) -– I have nothing but affection for (most) of the music that falls under the (inevitably black) umbrella of “Gothic.”
As such, here is one of my favorite largely-considered-Goth bands of the mid-to-late 80’s -– The Mission -– covering my favorite song of all time by Killing Joke, a band many Goths count as their own, but whose music transcends that tag, I’d offer (and Goth scholar Andi Harriman agreed).
The notion of the Mission covering Killing Joke would have blown the head of that 19 year old pictured above apart, in 1987. Today, it doesn’t seem quite as surprising, but here you go.
Happy World Goth Day. Release the Bats.
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