Bauhaus

Bauhaus, or in other words when rock turns into a cabaret of horror, complete with masks and makeup, following the trail blazed by glam and the legendary "Rocky Horror Show". The macabre, dissonant tones of dark-punk and the theatrical, constantly over-the-top attitude of glam became one and the same with Bauhaus: far removed from the searing existential depression of gothic rock, the Bauhaus sound certainly aimed to paint gloomy nightmares and pressing, horror-movie dances, but it loaded every single moment with an almost exaggerated emphasis, backed by a particularly well-developed sense of spectacular effect.

The charisma of the band is, through and through, the charisma of Peter Murphy, a brilliant singer but also a tremendous "actor", a provocative, ambiguous, magnetic frontman. With his decadent, excessive look, often pushed to the point of self-parody in both his vocal performances and his costumes, completely immersed in his role as a "character", Murphy was in many ways the most revolutionary personality in dark-punk for his almost unique ability, within the movement, to actually "entertain" - both his listeners and, perhaps even more so, himself. His very presence, in addition to the words of his songs, was overflowing with macabre references and symbolism, but his pompous, wildly theatrical tone was there to show that being the singer of a band branded "dark" didn't necessarily always mean being a chronically depressed soul weighed down by bottomless sadness. And while this may have left Murphy lacking the emotional and introspective depth of a Smith or a Curtis, it also made him one of the absolute icons that post-punk audiences fell in love with at first sight.

Even so, few other bands can claim to be as genuinely "terrifying" as Bauhaus: what Murphy sang were, without mincing words, pitch-black visions, demonic dances charged with a primordial dread. And the singer's fondness for overtones, his theatrical emphasis, his artificial showmanship, only made their songs feel even more alien and unsettling.

Two stunning singles, "Bela Lugosi's Dead" and "Dark Entries", rightfully launched them into the pantheon of great dark idols, and paved the way for their debut album "In The Flat Field", which the far-sighted Ivo Watts-Russell, head of 4AD, was quick to snap up.

And once again it's one of their masterpieces that opens the album: "Double Dare", the summation of everything Bauhaus represented for gothic rock, for post-punk, and ultimately for rock in its purest, most spectacular essence. Introduced by a pulse reminiscent of Barrett-era "Astronomy Domine", it unfolds into a stormy drum cadence (Kevin Haskins), a booming bass distortion (David Jay), and above all an ocean of jagged guitar dissonance (Daniel Ash), painting an ideal, tumultuous, ever-building backdrop for the show put on by a Murphy in phenomenal form: now deep and baritone, now nervy and piercing, elsewhere screamed, contorted and menacing, his vocal constantly shifts shape - a rich, gorgeous voice, powerful like few others. Delirious, possessed, riveting, this track alone would be enough to make the album immortal.

But there are, thankfully, other gems too, starting with the title-track, a typical band standard, launched on supersonic rhythms and branded with fire by Daniel Ash and his boundless arsenal of guitar effects (subliminal pulses, sudden surges, colossal dissonances), with Peter Murphy once again the histrionic star of the show, somewhere between a sultry, smoky old-school crooner and a raucous punk screamer. "God In An Alcove", on the other hand, gives free rein to their "glam" side, while "Dive" is a lightning-fast, completely unhinged piece of punk-rock. "Spy In The Cab" is another masterpiece, an atmospheric track that momentarily breaks the frantic pace the record has kept up until then: for the first time Murphy steps into the role of the "dark" singer in the literal sense of the word, desperate, almost in tears, while the bare-bones backing is limited to another avant-garde showcase from Ash and scattered electronic pulses. Even more disorienting is "Small Talk Stinks", which can't help but recall the contemporary rhythmic experiments of PIL: a languid, sensual song, nocturnal and mysterious, it's almost a foreign body within an album whose agenda is explicit, direct morbidity, yet it blends in perfectly thanks to its many subtle manipulations that disturb the apparent calm of its dub-like pace.

With "St. Vitus Dance" we're back on territory more suited to the band's strengths: true to its title, it's nothing less than an unrestrained satanic dance, with the four of them almost overdoing it as they push their instruments to the most extreme effects: the drums become an indefinite pulse, bass and guitar turn into something close to irritating interference, while Murphy indulges in a rambling exercise, first in "spoken-word", then in agitated crooning, before finishing off with animalistic screams.

"Stigmata Martyr" is another reference standard for all the gothic rock to come, with Murphy this time playing the part of the grim priest. But when it comes to unsettling, disturbing atmospheres, few other things in dark-punk can top the sprawling "Nerves" (7 minutes), a walk through a horror-movie tunnel pierced by an out-of-tune piano and pitch-black guitar riffs worthy of Black Sabbath. Peter Murphy guides this vast hymn to universal fear in the most fitting way, before rising in the finale into a sudden, frenzied crescendo that turns the track into a frantic burst of punk-rock, leaving the listener truly stunned.

Influential like few of their contemporaries, Peter Murphy's band wouldn't stop at this first work, going on to release two more standout albums ("Mask" and "Sky's Gone Out") before splitting up. Peter Murphy's solo career would never quite live up to it, but Bauhaus's cult success has endured over time, with a steady stream of releases (rarities, b-sides, celebratory anthologies) and, above all, constant echoes of their work scattered across the records of countless disciples of their horror-rock, first among them the Californian Christian Death. But no one would ever match the originality and uniqueness of Bauhaus, because no one would ever again have a showman as histrionic, exhibitionist and creative as Peter Murphy, with all his strengths and flaws.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

29/11/2011