Everyday is Halloween

It seems fitting to put up a Type O Negative song to celebrate the darkest of holidays, especially since it's the first Halloween since frontman/bassist Peter Steele's death. Rock on and Happy Halloween!

Another Death Shocks the Metal World: RIP Paul Gray

Damn. I came out of graduation to hear that Ronnie James Dio passed away and then as I ended my road trip back from Texas I saw that Slipknot bassist Paul Gray died close to home, in Urbandale, Iowa, yesterday.

This is sad news, whether you like Slipknot or not, and I'm sure this is a rough time for both the members of the band, family and all of the friends the group has made while on the road.

Here's to you Paul Gray. May you also rest in peace alongside James "The Rev" Sullivan, Peter Steele, Ronnie James Dio in Heaven ... or Hell (depending on your preference).

UPDATE: Just caught the end of Slipknot's press conference. The whole band (and Gray's wife) were there and seemed very torn up over the bassist's death. Pretty intense stuff and crazy to see all these guys in a room without masks on such a somber occasion.

Peter Steele RIP

Apparently the rumor of Type O Negative vocalist Peter Steele dying of heart failure may actually be a reality. Like him or not, Steele has one of the most definitive voices out there and wrote some chilling songs.

So, if the rumors are all true, then RIP Peter Steele. Thanks for the tunes. True goth metal at its best.

UPDATE: Looks like Steele's death has been confirmed of what is believed to be heart failure. I figured he must be going through some medical problems, as he has been pretty strong on finding religion and looked weaker as of late.

Here is a great quote on Peter from metal journalist Joe Gausten:

"I met Peter Steele back in 1995, when Jerry and Doyle from the MISFITS brought me along to a show in New York, where they joined TYPE O onstage during an encore. This was the first time those guys has appeared onstage in MISFITS gear in 12 years.

"Backstage, Jerry introduced me to Peter, who looked up at me, handed me a bottle of whiskey and said in his classic deep voice, 'Drink!' Being an 18-year-old wiseass at the time, I immediately started chugging it like it was ice tea! 'WHOA!!' shouted Peter as he snatched the booze away from me. He then pointed to the stack of unspeakably disgusting porno mags piled up beside him. 'Um, might I interest you in some fine pornographic material?'

"Quite a nice host, if you ask me."

RIP PETER STEELE