Concert Review: Type O Negative / Celtic Frost

by Todd Maternowski

Wednesday night at the Palladium, the metroplex got a little gothier, as dark metal legends Type O Negative and Celtic Frost came to southside on Lamar. On my two previous trips to the Palladium, to see Lamb of God and Killswitch Engage / Dragonforce, the experience was the same: there may be no better place in DFW to see a big-name metal band --other than the Ridglea Theatre, of course-- but both shows were marred by serious sound system issues. Wednesday evening's show was no different.

Opening the set was the relatively young southern rock outfit Brand New Sin, who played with good energy but was ultimately a little repetitive and out-of-place for the two following acts. Hefty lead singer Joe Altier did his best to try and whip the mostly subdued crowd into a rock-frenzy, but got his biggest response after his shout-out to CF and TON, saying that when he was younger he would listen to October Rust all day. The crowd erupted knowingly when Altier then proposed that Type O's music was the best sex music ever made, especially for the ladies.

Celtic Frost had been to the Ridglea last fall, and played an incredible show in front of a relatively small audience. Now with the gothic heavies playing next, the metal pioneers from Switzerland took their set completely over the top. Bassist Martin Eric Ain opened the show with a two minute-long ritualistic banishing of all demonic entities in the audience (I didn't notice anyone leaving abruptly) in his best Saruman-esque scene-chewing ranting voice. You know you're at a Celtic Frost show when a portly European with more hair than Chewbacca, in kabuki facepaint and full-on black trenchcoat bellows into a microphone about banishing evil spirits.

The set itself was what you would expect from C-Frost: non-stop barrage of heavy riffs, songs about conjuring dead gods in darkness, and between-songs banter about playing "another godless song on a godless stage in a godless state in a godless universe" (frontman Tom Warrior knows how to keep a show light and fluffy). Opening with 'Procreation of the Wicked' and pounding through some of their old favorites, Celtic Frost's sound was as heavy and thunderous as an army of giant ettins on their way to do battle with the Elder Gods. If you've ever wondered what a tribe of Storm Giants performing a war dance sounds like --and I know you have-- check out Celtic Frost next time they come through this particularly soulless corner of our decaying civilization.

After a too-short 50-minute set, the stage was set for the headliners, the doom-and-sex metal band Type O Negative. Honestly, I was there to see C-Frost, but the missus was there for the main act --specifically, for lead singer/bassist Peter Steele. Never having seen Type O before, I had to glean a mental image of the 6-foot-7 iconic frontman from my better half's CDs and hearsay: with songs dripping in decadence, slow heavy metallic riffs and Steels' ludicrously deep basso profundo vocals, I could only assume that Peter Steele was a goth titan, towering over the stage like a colossal dark anti-hero, the heavy chain he uses as a bass guitar strap draped menacingly over his powerful shoulders, treating the band like an occasional diversion in the downtime between orgies with hordes of tattooed supermodels.

The reality was --thankfully-- much different. Before Type O came out the roadies set up a few lighted signs with messages like "YOU SUCK" and "BOO", lighting them up in a hilarious display of self-depreciating humor. That's about when the Palladium's loudspeakers started paying the most delciously debauched goth song of all time: the Chicken Dance polka. In what seemed like eons, the chicken dance played on and on, until it slowly faded out as the lights in the venue dimmed.... when boom! Lights back up, chicken dance back in full swing. This happened about three or four times before the band finally got on stage and immediately belted out a hilariously gloomy cover of the Beatles' 'Magical Mystery Tour'. Who knew that such swarthy fellows had a sense of humor?

As expected, Steele dominated the rest of the evening, albeit sans guitar chain, trenchcoat or supermodels. In fact, even his trademark bass voice seemed a little tinny, and towards the end of the show literally disappeared completely as the Palladium's microphones proved not quite up to the task of capturing those normally-rich vocals. Although the Palladium is an amazing venue, and an absolutely great place to see national and international acts, this is the third show out of the three I've witnessed which featured serious sound system problems: the guitars at the Dragonforce show were barely audible at times (at one point the bass player completely gave up and walked off stage, mid-song, to have a cigarette) and the entire system cut out numerous times during Lamb of God's hyperactive set. While the music was clearly audible for Type O, the vocals were pretty fuzzy, which is not good for a band that uses deep, rich vocals as its bread-and-butter.

Other than that, the set was a good one, with Type O playing an inspired mix of their old best of's, presumably newer stuff I wasn't familiar with, and strangely hilarious covers of cheesy 90s pop songs. Alas, they never played their claim-to-genius cover of the insipid Seals & Croft soft ballad "Summer Breeze", but they did end the show with an extended version of "Black No.1". Again proving that decadently degenerate music goes hand-in-hand with top-notch sarcastic humor, Steele had some great interaction with the crowd on the final song. As he prepared to sing the nearly-silent, soulful piece of "Black No.1", the crowd started singing along, leading to this exchange:

Peter Steele: "Everyone just shut the fuck up!! This is my song!! I get to sing it!!"

Some anonymous crowd person: "unintelligible"

Steele: "Fuck me? Fuck you!!"

Crowd: middle fingers raised, shouting obscenities

Steele (in full bass voice): "Stop hurting my feelings!!"

Truly an unforgettable show.