(Thanks to Massimo Moro, who reviewed and updated the original text).
(Translated from my original Italian text by
by Massimo Moro)
The Sisters Of Mercy will be remembered as, possibly,
the greatest British gothic punk band. Even without
the charismatic personality (and the major distribution deals) of similar
groups likeJoy Division and Siouxsie Sioux, the
Sisters of Mercy wrote some of the most exciting and driving
songs in this music style.
The debut single of the band was a simple funk-rock
song called The Damage Done (Merciful Release, 1980),
but soon Andrew Eldritch (singer, real name Andrew
Taylor) took control of the band (the other members were
Gary Marx, guitar and Craig Adams, bass) thanks to his ideas.
Body Electric (1982) was a voodoobilly: the SOM actually
created a new style based on new wave classic horror
topics, recycling Suicide and The Cramps in a gloomy
and disturbing way. They made it also suitable for the disco
audiences, adding electronic percussion. The b-side
(Adrenochrome) was even more threatening, announcing
the hurricane-like Temple Of Love.
The shock was increased thanks to the gloomy meditations
led by the singer, which became even more solemn and
dreadful. 1983 was their best year. Anaconda highlighted
rhythms and guitar distortions, even if Marx and Adams
diluted the project on its b-side Phantom, influenced
by Duan Eddy's "twang" guitar playing, by Sandy Nelson's
naive percussion and by Ennio Morricone's soundtracks.
Alice, still related with Siouxsie and Public Image esoteric
stereotypes, was marked by a dreadful rage, thanks especially
to Eldritch's glacial and dark singing; Floorshow, its flipside, was
a sort of Slavic voodoobilly sung by a Transilvanian vampire.
The Reptile House EP (1983) proved their maturity thanks to
an extraordinary balance between Jim Morrison-ian melodrama
(Lights) and Eastern music (Valentine).
The ouverture Fix
showed the Wagnerian excesses created by Eldritch, Kiss The
Carpet, instead, celebrated a sneakier ceremony, injecting
overdoses of suspense in these horror scenarios.
The Sisters Of Mercy's aesthetics reached its zenith in Temple Of Love (October
1983), a driving dance song evoking esoteric rituals,
combined with lugubrious litanies, revealing terrific scenarios; the
masterpiece of gothic punk and one of the greatest rock songs ever
made: Eldritch sings like a David Bowie coming from hell, as frightful
as a shivering zombie, while Wayne Hussey unleashes wild hardrock
guitar riffs arousing evocative sensations. Menacing and horrid
rituals, pursued by the band from the very beginning of their career,
triumphed thanks to Temple Of Love, with the frightening psychic
tension of a dreadful ceremony, thanks to its terrific and ever
changing rhythms and its solemn/macabre melodies.
The band never repeated that amazing feat,
but Eldritch went on singing in a feverish and alien
mood, first in the single Body And Soul (June 1984),
a morbid melody in a fatal atmosphere, and then on
Walk Away (October 1984), which emphasized danceable
rhythms.
The languid and sinister features of their Grand Guignol
made First And Last And Always (Elektra, 1985) a depressing
and evil ritual. The ballad No Time To Cry turned into a frenzied gipsy dance.
The darkest track was Amphetamine Logic, reaching dreadful places thanks to
Eldritch's ossianic tenor. Some Kind Of Stranger was exhausting, updating glam rock's
stereotypical and melodramatic horror shocks. The title track
combined a catchy refrain with classical melodies, and Marian was the catchiest
danceable liturgy of the album. Black Planet Spanish melody was the
only moment of rest during this satanic torture.
The dark Ulysses of gothic punk changed direction with the 40-minute EP
Gift
(Merciful Release, 1986), under the Sisterhood pseudonym. It was an
experimental project, using synthesizers and manipulated vocals, with peaks of
pathos in
Giving Ground and Rain To Heaven.
The claustrophobic sound of Floodland (Elektra,1987) was a simple
consequence.
The glacially modernist arrangements benefit from the supervision of the genius of Jim Steinman. On bass is a rock witch like Patricia Morrison (formerly of Legal Weapon and Gun Club).
Hussey, meanwhile, has left Eldritch to join Adams Mission.
The sabbath-like atmosphere of Temple Of Love echoes in the obsessive forward drive of Lucretia My Reflection and drags the entire album into an orgy of synthetic dances propelled by a superhuman force.
BR> Steinmans touch, the supreme genius of rock melodrama, leaves a heavy imprint on the two most spectacular tracks, both counterpointed by an opera soprano choir and staccato synthesizers: the monumental This Corrosion, steeped in gospel and launched at breakneck speed, and Dominion, driven by a martial pace and no less overwhelming.
Thanks to these four tracks (which occupy most of the album), Floodland remains one of the masterpieces of British gothic music.
Just as chilling is 1959, a lied for voice and piano alone, the only track without a drum machine.
Vision Thing (Merciful Release, 1990) was released only after a long hiatus. Alongside Eldritch this time is Tony James (formerly of Generation X and Sigue Sigue Sputnik), and the sound changes once again, moving even closer to the boogie of ZZ Top (Detonation Boulevard, When You Don't See Me, and Doctor Jeep).
Vision Thing recaptures the feverish, animalistic shock of Temple Of Love with another textbook hard-rock riff, and on More Steinman once again steps in to build another of his pop cathedrals (with his characteristic female choirs and equally characteristic keyboards). The hallucinatory momentum and suffocating atmospheres complete Eldritchs work of hypnotism, as he has grown immensely as a musician over the years while retaining the shamanic qualities of his voice.
The band also released a new version of Temple Of Love (1992), with heavy-metal guitars, tribal beat and emphatic singing complemented by Israeli singer Ofra Haza.
Under The Gun (1993) is a single with Teri Nunn (former member of Berlin) on vocals.
Eldritch was more than ever the true messiah of British goth, a visionary who has forged a language that is both powerful and simple. Few possess his ability to resonate with rhythms, to transcend their function of marking time, to internalize them almost to the limits of ferocious madness. In his otherworldly voice swirl the most terrifying specters of the modern psyche. His songs are journeys into the anxiety and unease of the modern age.
Eldritchs backing band changed again, absorbing guitarists Adam Pearson (ex Red Lorry Yellow Lorry) and Chris Sheehan (a New Zealander formerly of the Starlings), later replaced by the Yugoslav-born Mike Varjak.
Massimo Moro wrote:
Eldritch released the embarrassing techno album
Go Figure (1998) under the moniker SSV.
He then abandoned music.