Killing in the name of Gothic Subculture
By Rhini Townend
When I say the word “goth”, what image is conjured in your head? Is it the trad goth image of pale skin, blood red, wilting roses, and spooky castles? Or is it cybergoths in angry boots rave-stomping under a bridge? Or, the post-punk political goths who are depressive in their liberalism, wearing Dr Martens and idolising Robert Smith and Ian Curtis? Whichever your point of reference for the Gothic is, it is all part of the same subculture – the same rebellion against social norms. But I want to trace back the roots of the greebo image to the emergence of a liberal anti-capitalist belief system that rejected the commodification of art and the oppressive traditions of mainstream society. From Gothic literature to heavy metal music, a dark and brooding subculture emerged, with an affinity for the melancholy and nostalgia, both past and present.
For the rest of society, any subcultural offshoot is a relatively aggressive ‘fuck you’ to the values and norms it holds so dear to its heart. The prefix “sub-” denotes everything rebellious – there is subversion of societal expectations, substandard norms, subliminal political messages through art and media. All these are Gothic behaviours that manifest from the identification with a disjunct subset of society. Those aligned with the subculture revolt against society through their subgeneric behaviour, very much embracing what it is to be an outcast, a creature of the underworld, or an unlovable gruesome worm or some such. Whether this is a revolt against the parent forms of mainstream culture, be it literature or music, or against straight-edge parents in a fit of adolescent rage, it is the same social-signalling that falls under a Gothic belief system. It isn’t solely representative of the rebelliousness of youth, or a subversion of right-wing ideals, but Goth subculture implies a critique of the mainstream culture it exists within.
On the outside, heavy eyeliner and dark clothes simply stand for anti-fashion. In the ‘80s, when the Goth movement began, there weren’t big clothing companies specifically packaging bedraggled and unorthodox shirts already with rips and safety pins for sixty quid a pop, for all your gothic needs. To create an obscene dichotomy with towny bourgeois everyday clothing, goths rejected the beloved capitalist activity of showing their value with clothing trends. Leather jackets, fishnets, antique corsets, lace, velvet. All reminiscent of an aesthetic more than ten centuries old. This was heavily influenced by the 19th century, home to the dark romanticism of Victorian England and Gothic literature. This was a time of extreme excess and decadence, hand-in-hand with a naturally extreme inequality gap, and a jilted penchant for darkness and morbidity.
The deep-seated horror behind Gothicism was a response to the sudden shock of societal, cultural and theological change in 18th century Europe. Literature written in this time cannot be separated from the social context in which it was created. Gothic novels birthed a subculture that feared the direction of society, in terms of the spread of Western culture, gender roles, oppression, and race. Frankenstein follows a monster terrorising the group of people he lives with, or rather the people who made him – the idea of a domestic savage residing in the heart of civilisation that tears it apart from within. It’s an incredibly anxious novel, questioning humanity’s future and fearing nature vs nurture, all through dark motifs of otherness and violence and obscenity. The titular character in Dracula similarly fears the world he has long-known being ravaged by an expanding group of demons. He is stranded in time between the old century he has lived through and the threat of modernity, which promises decadence and destruction through capital and economy. Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is not readily thought of as a Gothic novel, but its flirtation with the supernatural enters the realm of the uncanny, which is one of the most recognisable Gothic motifs. The uncanny was popularised by Freud to represent the terror of unfamiliar and uncomfortable things that were once long ago familiar – human-like but not human enough. Ghosts are the echoes of entities we used to know, whose reappearances as unhuman challenge our ideas of reality.
Another Gothic element that relies on divergence from realistic depictions is the narrative of time, a concept known as the eternal now. The borders of time become ambiguous, with temporal distortions in literature in the Victorian era reflecting the conflicting sentiments of society. This resulted from the economic crises inducing widespread panic, passing from a period of prosperity and optimism to convulsion and stagnation. Time delineated the borders between the past and the future and thus barbarism and progress – the believed progression of England became parallel to the acceptance of impending poverty and social upheaval, suggesting an inevitable decline. The several-hundred-year-old vampire in Dracula finds his past clashing with the present and the looming future. A Christmas Carol used the Gothic milieu to critique the capitalist ideology of the West. Reception to this critique depended on the reader’s ability to identify, and identify with, the values shown in the materialistic and cold Scrooge, versus the poor but loving Cratchit family. Simply, it’s the rich versus the working class. Scrooge manages to save his life at the end of the novel by identifying with his sympathetic self, finally feeling sorry for the poor scrubbers. Until this point, he is very much the ideal subject of commodity culture. Through monstrous depictions and a manipulation of reality to create the uncanny, Gothic literature places the reader in an alternate world that is awfully similar to the one they are already in.
The uncanny forms the main overlap between Gothic literature and music. Both are a manifestation of a movement through different art forms. Uncanny sounds pervade Gothic novels, with echoing footstep and ghostly melodies – in Dracula, the children of the night make music. In film adaptations of Gothic novels, piercing high-pitched violins, echoes and reverb, and disembodied children singing represent a supernatural presence. These indicate the spooky presence of something invisible, intangible, or improbable. The ability to have a soundtrack over a narrative bridges the gap between written ideals with visual and audible haunting dimensions that uncannily present subtext to the events once read in a book and now shown on screen. Without Gothic literature and their subsequent films, we would not have the dark romanticism in music which uses the same ambiguity and motifs to establish a sonic version of the uncanny.
Both art forms represent the emergence of the repressed in a revolutionary and radical genre. Gothic music initially defied genre-labelling – it came about as a rebellion against capitalism, much like the symbolism of literary works. Rock music that came about in the ‘60s was unlike any of the pop music before it – it was daring, sexy, and cool. But like I discussed in my previous article on selling pop music under capitalism,the popular means that which sells. Rock music quickly became taken by capitalist ideals. Something new emerged, everyone loved it, so what else are you supposed to do but increase supply and sell more? There was more and more rock music until it became a commodity, and the brave peace and love message of rock bands became gimmicky and popular. Just look at the initial progression of The Beatles and the bands they inspired, before their acid trips when they, incredibly impressively, managed to continue subverting mainstream ideas and for a profit. To rebel against this, the subgenres of gothic fiction and heavy metal assimilated, tailoring the same message of perversion, of substandard, and of ‘fuck you’.
The emergence of metal flipped rock music on its head and up its arse. The basic rock arrangement was twisted in every sense of the word – song length, chord progression, structure, imagery and symbolism, truth, and morality. The teeth-bearing positivity and feel-good factor mainstream rock lyrics became obscene and vulgar in response, focussing on blatant and sexual and offensive, with many a reference to the occult. Music forms were however the artists wanted them to be, on the fringes of genres. As a subculture, this was to threaten the integrity of commercialised pop music, which in turn threatens spending and capitalism, as well as to create a community for those on the edge of society. Whilst defying labelling and genres, there was still a consistent distinctiveness between individual styles and collectivism. The Gothic subcultural substance retained some form of heterogeneity and unity, so that Goths belonged autonomously. Anyone who enacted Gothic fashion, or behaviour, or political beliefs could individually or collectively identify with the symbolism of Goth – they could dress as medieval, cyber, or trad, but identify as Goths.
The Gothic motifs are best translated into music in two ways; lyricism and uncanny sounds. Metal lyrics have at their core values of alienation, sadness, and a desire for death/salvation, in a bigger picture of oppression from mainstream ideology and religion. These are all representative of what it means to be a subculture, to challenge ideas and make people uncomfortable – can you imagine pop music referencing demonic possession? To the outside culture, it’s terrifying and most certainly a thinly veiled diabolic cult. But in truth, Goths are not suicidal nor satanic – these widely circulating prejudices to the lyrical content reflect the phenomenon of the uncanny, and consumer culture has developed a deep fear of the subculture by taking the lyrical bait. Let’s examine the referential content of one of the most highly regarded metal songs, Enter Sandman by Metallica. In the bridge, there is a call and response between a low and demonic male voice and a high-pitched childlike voice, in a rendition of an 18th century bedtime prayer “Now I lay me down to sleep - Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep - I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I die before I wake - If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take - I pray the Lord my soul to take”. This prayer was said to aid children’s fear and give them trust in God’s protection. The contrast of voices at extreme pitches is the perfect embodiment of the uncanny, and the religious content becomes twisted into a satanic ritual. The following lyrics “Hush, little baby, don't say a word, And never mind that noise you heard, It's just the beasts under your bed, In your closet, in your head”, are shocking and dark, relying on a demonic presence and the supernatural to subvert religious ideology. This attitude proclaims the metal identity as outside of the dominant culture. The musicality relies on the uncanny to challenge the listener – a wall of guitars was used to create a wall of sound for the sinister riff on the rhythm guitar, creating that heavy metal intensity. There’s also a fast tempo, longer song duration, minor key, distortion, and echo. Let’s not forget the mythical focus of the Sandman, which in history has mixed depictions of good and evil intention, but here is clearly the harbinger of nightmares.
Basically, through lyrical bait and subversion, the Gothic milieu created a culture that embraced the occult in a way that marginally bares a relationship to reality. The overt Satanism and anti-Christianism are heretical imagery that most easily represent the occult, as it plays on already-known widespread mythology. It’s not brainwashing or cult worship. It’s a sign-system where satanic references signify subversion. Black Sabbath based their whole metal image on twisted religion ideology – even the name contains a reference to satanic rituals in a perversion of Christian mass. With lyrics such as “My name is Lucifer, please take my hand”, “Leave the earth to Satan and his slaves”, “With God and Satan at my side”, the band explicitly name the devil to create an image that’s hardcore and metal. However, Ozzy Osbourne is famously Christian. The song that shares the band’s name actually has a basic premise of Satan appearing in front of Ozzy, and he then begs God to help him. By using an anti-Christian protagonist, the occult references simply attempt to create shock to create an identity that counters mainstream culture. The mass cultural response to the seeming heavy metal cult was close to hysteria, with fear of the music being conducive to murder. Just look at the latest season of Stranger Things, (small spoiler alert but also you really should have watched it by now) Eddie is frankly a heavy metal icon and because of his aesthetic and ties with the D&D ‘Hellfire Club’, he becomes tied to murder and cult participation. Black Sabbath’s occult is not indicative of their beliefs – some have even argued that they’re a Christian metal band. Instead, they’re signalling their allegiance with the Goth identity.
Their self-titled song was also one of the first to use Gothic literature motifs in sonic form. The song begins with a thunderstorm and church bell – this could be taken straight from any Gothic novel. Lyricism isn’t just explicit and obscene references, it’s the signalling of transgression over thematic musical expression. This brings us back to sounds of the uncanny – to some, the musicality of metal genuinely offends their ears, and they can’t understand how it’s considered music. This is because heavy use of techniques such as reverb, echo, distortion, extremely high or low-pitched melodies, suggestive timbres like white noise, minor harmonies, the Dorian scale, death growls, and screaming all sound uncomfortable. Playing with musical temporality also links back the fascination of Gothic literature with the eternal now – echoes have a ghostly presence and suggest a disembodied presence, and reverb and distortion unhinge a sound from its source, dislodging it from the regular sonic flow. Repetition is also used heavily in song structures, whether it’s themes, drones, or syncopations, it creates a non-linearity that plays with the idea of spectrality and temporal displacement. This way, Goth music can be seen as musical transgression in the context of other music. It’s not like the music is released into some bubble of society separated in the timeline – Black Sabbath released their debut self-titled album on the same day as Rod Stewart’s ‘An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down’, and in the same month as Jackson 5’s ‘ABC’. Imagine turning on the radio and hearing an unhinged voice screaming Lucifer’s name over guitar distortion and reverbed minor harmonies, and then hearing, ‘A B C, easy as 1 2 3, as simple as do re mi, A B C, 1 2 3, baby you and me’, over bongos and a tambourine.
Aside from sharing macabre motifs and having an intention to subvert social norms, Gothic novels have even made direct appearances in music; Bauhaus’ most famous song is named after the actor who played Dracula in the first cinematic remake, ‘Bela Lugosi’s Dead’, and what a name he has too. Even the focus on the undead summons the eerie atmosphere, and the pervading use of echoes places the vocals in the timeless space between the actor’s everlasting existence within the cinematic world and the afterlife. With lyrics about bats and bell towers and black capes, to the repetition of “undead, undead, undead”, creates a musical piece as Gothic as the original literature. The echoes and distortions can only be used to invite a soundscape of a ghostly haunting, one that challenges the listener’s stamina by lasting for a total length of 9:36. The permeation of values at the core of Gothic novels, from gloomy themes to undead characters, result in a continuation of the literary social critique into music-form through a method of distorting reality sonically.
The ultimate genre-labelling that has occurred for “Gothic music”, whether it’s metal or dark wave or death rock, seems to unite the ideas of primitive and chaotic aspects of culture into a rebellious subculture that shines light on the darker shadows seen in everyday life. Goths and Gothic music and Gothic literature are seen by most of society as chaotic and depressing and, frankly, unhinged, but in truth it seems that by twisting ideals of society, it is a means of reflecting state of progression under a consistently distinctive identity (Gothic). For instance, The Cure claimed that they were not goth, but the use of gloomy texts, reverb, anxious singing, and black aesthetic developed a Gothic identity. Although a new wave post-punk musical style, it provides a voice for the isolated and angsty people through an affinity for the classic Gothic imagery of all things ghostly and haunting. Unconventional and dissonant musicality in whatever genre seems to be a signpost of the uncanny, evoking strange feelings over tangible messages of being alone in a large society – or, being part of a smaller subculture in a larger corrupted culture. Even the bleak mindscapes and grey colours of the similarly post-punk new wave rock band Joy Division made a significant appeal to the Gothic, using obtrusive and repetitive music and a paranoid address to allow listeners to relate to the anxiety of what, we can now understand, is a classic Gothic text.
Any haunted persona making nihilistic, scared, and lonely points about being merely one person in an empty world, adds gloom to despondence and can be personally or collectively identified with the Gothic. Whether it’s Dracula trapped in the horrors of the new world, Scrooge haunted by the past, present and future, or Ian Curtis eternalising the despair of his disturbed roaming in the world, Gothic characters are created as a spectral personality that calls out directly to the audience to share in anxiety and paranoia of society. Gothic music creates an unhomely soundscape to signify divergence from social norms, as a continuation of the subculture values of literature. And, dude, it’s so fucking metal.