Back in the mid 1980s I too used to be a stick-thin goth with famine-high cheekbones. And whether he was poncing about in a suit, or doing bat impressions in black leggings and singlet, my hero was Bauhaus’s front man, Peter Murphy.
Here he is, mincing about in an energetic performance of The Passion of Lovers. An object lesson both in elegance and the perils of taking oneself way too seriously.
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I once had a fling with a chap who was obsessed with Bauhaus, he took himself rather too seriously as well.
Can’t imagine you as a Goth, Ben.
Puss
I knew there was a reason that I felt I should dress up a bit today, but I do have a bit of an excuse for wearing jeans as I am living out of a suitcase (or four) at the moment.
Peter Murphy eh? Now there’s a man who could do a proper frown.
I have a Bauhaus singles collection on vynil that I was entrusted with by an old boyfriend. His parents were moving house and he didn’t want his precious records getting squashed. Well they weren’t damaged but there were forgotten as it’s umpteen years on and I still have them (somewhere).
oh Ms. Ferrari - there is a song in there somewhere -
‘Bauhaus to My House’,
I have the vinyl of a louse.
decades pass
since I gave him the arse
and I have no wrath
Just all this old Goth.
An icon just slightly ahead of his time - the most noble kind.
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