Sexy man.  Very down to earth.  Going to be watching interviews with him on youtube.

I can’t pretend I really knew Type O Negative frontman Peter Steele, who died Wednesday, reportedly of heart failure, although I’d met and interviewed him several times.

I knew his music, from the early days of his lurid mid-’80s thrash band Carnivore to the sophisticated melange of Black Sabbath, Sisters of Mercy, Pink Floyd and the Beatles that he and his bandmates conjured with Type O Negative. I knew that he was an amazing performer, haunting and charismatic, commanding yet never pompous.

I knew that every time I interviewed him we’d end up talking about how dismal the music industry — and life itself — can be, how our greatest weaknesses can obliterate our most powerful strengths. And I knew that whenever we talked, whether it was casual conversation at an industry event or at a confessional sit-down interview about the personal and professional struggles he experienced during the creation of whatever album he was working on, that the conversation would be filled with laughter and I would leave feeling more positive about life.

There were probably only a few people who really knew Steele. Devout Type O Negative fans surely empathized with his pain and appreciated his knack for writing songs that were dark as night, heavy as a pile of bricks and — in their way — as catchy as anything by Justin Timberlake. And Steele’s deep, baritone vocals were one of a kind in metal. But as for what was really going on inside Steele’s head, that’s something he took to his grave. His personal life is largely a mystery.

Whenever people in music die prematurely, critics ponder who they really were and whether their art was a true reflection of their inner selves. Inevitably, if they wrote angry or heavy songs, they’re described as “complex.” It’s practically a cliché, yet it probably best sums up Steele — complex and contradictory. Steele wasn’t a simple guy. He was articulate, well read and intelligent. But it sometimes seemed like that’s not the side he wanted his fans to see. He’d mention his admiration for the historical figure Rasputin and then make poop jokes in the same breath. He often talked about how he was just an average Joe from Brooklyn whose happiest days were back when he worked picking up garbage for the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation.

On more than one occasion, he emphasized to me that he’d have been a much happier guy if he never picked up a bass or sang a note. He compared his relationship with music to an affliction he had to endure and pulled no punches when discussing his distaste for record labels and mainstream goth culture. He was a contrarian to the end and wrote lyrics that were perceived as anti-Semitic (even though his keyboardist, Josh Silver, was Jewish) and homophobic (which he may have been). In 2007, the last time we talked, Steele told me, “That which does not destroy me just makes me more irritable, which I plan to take out on the band the next tour.”

Such descriptions make Steele seem like a sour, bitter man. He wasn’t. He was friendly, funny and had a reputation for being generous to his longtime bandmates — Silver, guitarist Kenny Hickey and drummer Johnny Kelly — and kind to the bands he toured with. In 2003, Type O Negative released what turned out to be their penultimate album, Life Is Killing Me. Although the title track is about the God complex that plagues much of the medical profession, the name says a lot about Steele. Obviously, the man was obsessed with mortality and prone to depression. On several occasions, he was very forthright to me about his battles with alcohol and cocaine and chastised himself about his lack of self-discipline. But like the leering, satiric wink of the album title, Steele made a joke out of his misery. He may have been filled with self-loathing, but he loved to make people laugh and he masked his pain with his morbid sense of humor.

Peter Steele held little sacred and took even less seriously. In 2005, following a bust for narcotics possession and a short jail sentence for assault and battery, Steele posted a picture of a gravestone inscribed with “Peter Steele: 1962 — 2005” on the official Type O Negative Web site. It was a strange move that wasn’t particularly funny to the thousands of fans who feared he had died. For Steele, however, it was probably hysterical and the best way to deal with his turmoil. The band’s last album was 2007’s Dead Again, and is likely a reflection of how he felt at the time. His mother had recently died, he had gone through rehab for substance abuse and his personal life was in shambles. It didn’t help that Type O Negative’s record label, SPV, suffered financial hardships after Dead Again was released and its U.S. operation went under in 2009.

And yet, despite all the adversity Steele seemed to be turning a corner. He had re-formed Carnivore and hoped to release a new album with them, as well as another Type O record. In October 2009, Type O Negative toured with Hickey and Kelly’s side project Seventh Void and Destrophy, and Steele was as charismatic, funny and exciting to watch as ever. He also had a new motivation, which he discovered after his mother’s death and it’s something appropriately at odds with his image: Steele had become religious.

“I’ve always considered myself to be a Roman Catholic, but I’ve kind of gotten close to my faith because, as they say, there are no atheists in foxholes,” he joked in our last interview. “As I’ve reached and gotten over my little midlife crisis, I realized my mortality. And if the day comes when it’s like, ‘Uh-oh, what if I really have to pay for all these f—ing sh–ty things I’ve done?’ That started making me think differently.”

No, I’m not gonna act like I really knew Peter Steele. But I’m sure gonna miss him.

I wasn’t in the least surprised when the sky turned gray as I put Type O Negative’s CD, World Coming Down, on the changer, the denizens of doom and gloom that they are. I was pleasantly surprised, however, upon meeting vocalist Pete Steele, to learn that he has an excellent sense of humor – a touch on the dark side, but that’s to be expected. Among all his varying shades of black he seems to have a fondness for a good drop of red – wine, that is, not blood….

NYROCK:
Well, you’re sound has changed quite a lot since October Rust [1996].

PETE:
We stripped it down. You could say October Rust was a bit… lush. We didn’t want to repeat the mistake we made with it so World Coming Down is more, yeah, stripped.

NYROCK:
It sounds as if you’re almost embarrassed….

PETE:
Embarrassed is wrong. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of October Rust. I made the mistake of listening to the damned record label and tried to make it sound a bit more radio compatible. I don’t know why I listened to them, but I did. My own mistake. But I like October Rust; it’s my favorite album. I’m proud of my song writing. But the label probably thought we’d sell a couple of million albums. I don’t know what drugs they were on. I guess they wanted to make another remake of Bloody Kisses, Bloody Kisses II or something like that. They didn’t get it.

NYROCK:
Bloody Kisses [1993] was your big success….

PETE:
I don’t think it was. Look at it; it’s out a good deal longer than October Rust. It had a lot more time to sell copies. Considering that October Rust hasn’t had as much time as Bloody Kisses it does really well, even better than Bloody Kisses, but they just don’t get it. It didn’t flop. Maybe in their book, but not in mine.

NYROCK:
It doesn’t sound like you’re happy with your label….

PETE:
Tell me one band that’s happy with their label. OK, bands need labels, but labels need bands just as much. The thing is I’m not happy that I’m stuck with a label, tied to it. 13 years ago I signed a contract and I’m still stuck with the contract. I’m still paying for my mistake.

NYROCK:
Is that the contract you signed with Carnivore?

PETE:
It is, and it’s a millstone around my neck, believe me. I’m paying dearly for it. I’m not saying that I’m starving. And I’m not greedy. I don’t want to be rich, but I don’t think we have a fair deal. With a bit more money we could do a lot of things, not for ourselves, but musically. I’m quite happy to be healthy, to have friends. I think that’s being rich. But we’re financially dependent and it sucks. Come on, I’m 37 and 13 years ago I made a mistake and it’s a bit long to pay for a mistake.

What really pisses me off is the fact that Roadrunner let a couple of bands change the label if they got a deal with a major, but they won’t let us go. On the other hand, we have complete artistic freedom. We owe them another studio album and then we’re free, but that might take years. Of course, we could just record any album, but we’re musicians and I wouldn’t want to release some junk just to fulfill a contract.

NYROCK:
How would you describe your sound? It’s rock but you guys do look a bit Gothic.

PETE:
And I thought I just looked frightening. A big, pale slab of meat.

NYROCK:
Playgirl didn’t seem to think so….

PETE:
Oh, shit. That’s going to haunt me. I created a monster. Ha, ha, ha! No, I showed the monster!

NYROCK:
I remember some wild rumors that the picture was tampered with….

PETE:
You’re trying to phrase it delicately. Ha, ha, ha! Well, my dick is real! Come on, I’m 6′ 6″ and in proportion. What do you expect?

NYROCK:    I didn’t even see it. I just heard about it.    Pete Steele
Playgirl August 1995 Edition

PETE:
And I thought everybody saw it. After I did it, I thought, “Oh my God, what did I do?” It was more than upsetting that so many guys had it. Girls, OK, but there just seemed to be at least as many guys. Not that I’m homophobic, but it was certainly irritating. I can’t believe that you haven’t seen it. Go check it out. It’s the August 1995 edition.

NYROCK:
Well, it’s not quite my kind of thing.

PETE:    I understand that, but I thought about it a bit too late. When I had to sign the first few posters with suspicious stains on them, I realized what was going on. It’s true, women just don’t buy Playgirl; it’s all the gays who buy it. I have no problem with homosexuals, but I’m fucking straight and it is irritating to think what they want to do with me.

NYROCK:
Oh, come on. Women have to deal with it daily, and we don’t have the benefit of being 6′ 6″.

PETE:
I never thought about it, but I guess you’re right.

NYROCK:
You seem rather pleasant. Some journalists claim that you’re difficult….

PETE:
We all behave like idiots from time to time. Somehow I just seem to have the divine luck that every time I’m a complete asshole somebody with a camera is around. Another thing is that a lot of people don’t seem to get my humor and in Europe there is the additional language barrier. I say something that’s completely over the top and the journalists just give me a blank stare. They take it seriously and I get the reputation of being a complete dick.

NYROCK:
One thing I noticed on World Coming Down is the absence of women in the lyrics.

PETE:
There’s more to life than just sex. I mean there’s also food, sleep and music. OK, it isn’t all that much, but at least it’s something!

NYROCK:
Sounds like you’re not exactly happy with women….

PETE:
There we go again. Whatever I do, I just seem to do it wrong. If I write about women and sex, people claim I exploit women. If I don’t write songs about women, people claim I hate them. What can I do?

NYROCK:
Your previous albums seem to be rather inspired by women….

PETE:
Bloody Kisses, definitely. Then the groupie shit started. Girls saw me as a sex symbol. I’m sick of that. I mean, come on. I don’t want to be some sex symbol. If somebody thinks I’m sexy, I’m flattered, but the whole image thing just sucks.

NYROCK:
So what’s up with the song “Pyretta Blaze”? It sounds a bit masochistic….

PETE:
It does, doesn’t it? Well, but it’s only a weird fantasy. Don’t worry. I might be pretty sick, but I’m nowhere near sick enough to fancy getting serious burns while having sex.

NYROCK:
You have a steady fan base in Europe and have toured there often enough. How do you adjust to Europe? After all, it is somewhat different….

PETE:
It’s weird; I hate being on a tour bus there. The busses are definitely better in the States, but I like the different cultures, the fact that there is a culture. It makes you realize that [the States] seem to have a lot of different cultures, but no real culture. Look at what we consider old here in America; most Europeans only laugh about it. You guys are sitting on some ancient history. And the wine! I pay at least 18 bucks for a bottle of Californian red that’s drinkable. In Europe, I could get a crate of wine for the same money! But I do get homesick. After a while I miss Brooklyn. I can get so homesick that I wish I was stuck in a traffic jam right on the Brooklyn Bridge.

November 1999