DISCLAIMER: Lord Veil here. For the purpose of this interview I’m afraid I must refer to my interviewee as “Drac” since he deems it “UnGoth” to take social media recognition for any of his past live works of musical performance art. Furthermore, he suggests that you go on and believe him to be a fictitious character (even though he’s very real and draining my wallet with all the booze he easily consumes without a hint of inebriation) because, and I quote, “the shows (he) previously performed are but air in the vastness of our timeline. They cannot be repeated, revisited or properly remembered even by those who were present during the madness.”
So he poses the question: “Did they ever matter?” ~then further challenges, “If something doesn’t matter, whether it happened or not is moot and may as well be considered fiction.”
We’re drinking rose’ at this… establishment. (Drac deems it UnGoth to advertise his whereabouts lest people follow his example and repeat his folly based on some primal need to follow greatness to whatever end.) The atmosphere is surprisingly “normal” for an interviewee of such dark notoriety. So I begin with that,
LV: Why here? Shouldn’t we be at a Goth club or cemetery or somewhere like that?
DRAC: Well that WOULD be expected, now wouldn’t it? But where’s the fun of being Goth around a bunch of other Goths? The NeoGoths these days have no clue who I am; and I’d just have to suffer watching them constantly trying to outGoth one another; often to ridiculous degrees. The elder traditional Goths who actually know of me would never be caught dead or undead in such an establishment unless I resurrected my performance art and rampaged anew. But there again, why would I play a Goth club? I did that, shocked and/or enlightened my audiences and walked away. Only pop stars repeat themselves. And often with autotune, choreographed dance moves and prerecorded performances they earned on their backs or knees in some record exec’s office.
LV: So does that mean you’ll never perform again?
DRAC: Who cares what I do? I certainly don’t. I do what I do and that’s that. Take a shit? Perform? When it’s time it’s time.
LV: Does that mean you had an idea and ran out of them after the final 2003 performance?
DRAC: (scoffs) A true artist cannot help but create, sir, even sans a creative outlet, ie: no band. I’ve 9 completely realized albums fully formed on paper. 3 of them are concept albums; one being a rock opera of grandios magnitude.
LV: So will you ever record them? A proper album? 9?
DRAC: Why would I record anything but live?
LV: No, then… Out of curiosity, why did you never leave your audiences with a professional recording of your work? Didn’t you want to be remembered?
DRAC: Why on earth would I ever do that? What? So I can become dated or, God forbid, timeless in the eyes of those who have loved me? Where’s the passion for the moment? Where are the worshipers of the beautiful memory? Musical art SHOULD be fleeting. It should be intimate, sweaty and intense like a good fuck. You’ll always remember a good fuck! But you’ll never fuck the same person the same way ever again. That first great fuck is the one that sticks with you. Over time that one great fuck slips into memory in a most endearing way. You stop remembering the “by the numbers” specifics of the actions that led to the feelings and start remembering a haze of bliss associated with that one great sex partner, that one precious moment. That’s how I’d love to be remembered over time by my audiences. I hope they don’t quite remember what I did to wow them, only that I DID.
LV: So why commit to this interview?
DRAC: Are you using my name?
LV: No, you won’t let me.
DRAC: Then who’s to say it ever happened?
LV: I say it is.
DRAC: But who really believes the media these days?
DRAC: To be less feline, I’m doing this because it’s time. Just like when you have to piss. You do it because you must.
LV: Why must you now? And speaking of piss, didn’t I hear of a story of you involving piss and free beer?
DRAC: (seems caught off guard and starts laughing to himself) Yaaaa… that actually happened…
LV: Please explain?
DRAC: It’s simple really. If I filled a bottle with my warm piss, this… person,,, bought me the beverage of my choice. So while I drank my beer, they drank my piss. Right at the bar!
LV: Did that bother you? It’s kinda gross to be honest.
DRAC: The person wasn’t hurting anyone and I had to go anyway… (shrugs shoulders) Far be it from me to piss on someone’s happiness.
LV: Had to go for the pun?
DRAC: Sometimes ya gotta squirt those to the face…
LV: Is the story of you beating a guy half to death with a flaming stick, then setting your stage on fire also true?
DRAC: Kinda? (shrugs helplessly)
LV: You’ll have to explain…
**TO BE CONTINUED**