The Paranoia and the Peace He Couldn't Find

World renowned failure at both death and life
Given nothingness, purgatory blight
To run and hide, a cowardly procedure
Options exhausted, except for anesthesia
Anesthesia I don't feel anything.

After the release of World Coming Down and the tour that followed, Peter Steele sank into a long torpor, as if he spent his days asking himself, "What do we do now?"

The Lean Years

The years 2001 and 2002 were lean years for the leader of Type O Negative, with periods of inactivity punctuated by troubling events. His life kept oscillating between monster tours and neurasthenia brought on by idleness, the most woeful example being his lethargy in front of the television show Law & Order, of which he devoured every episode, curled up in the fetal position on his futon.

His sisters remember that he was fascinated by the idea that his favorite series was presumably broadcast "all the time, every day, somewhere in the world."

He also enjoyed practicing mathematics. Inspired by several physics books, his friends and family would often see cryptic equations chalked on the floor of his lair. This kind of activity may seem strange, but it was harmless, and perhaps even normal for this gifted autodidact.

The Demons Turn Inward

Far more concerning were the isolated psychotic episodes often observed by those close to him. Peter frequently expressed paranoid affects, and the fear that someone was waiting for him outside the family home to attack him. One of his friends recounts that he accused her of having implanted an electronic device in his head to read his thoughts.

Peter's mind was under assault from numerous inner demons. He unloaded everything to his friend Maresa Wickham, confessing to her that he had become a slave to "the white lady."

"He had changed enormously since the last time we saw each other. Physically, you could see that things weren't right, and he immediately told me he had a very big problem with coke."

Falling to the Bottom of the Pit

Peter was falling to the bottom of the pit he had dug for himself. The bassist drifted during the dry spells between tours, which had necessarily become less frequent. With all that free time on his hands, he engaged in activities that were neither productive nor healthy.

Even though he had never really liked life on the road, it had become a reassuring routine for him. The homebody life he cherished was now plunging him deeper and deeper into depression. Musical ideas took time to take shape, and without anything substantial to promote, Roadrunner no longer had a financial interest in sending the band on the road.

"Hi, We're from Afghanistan"

But out of habit, as every year, Type O Negative emerged from its den for the Halloween season, and 2001 was no exception, except for one detail: because of the horrific events of September 11, 2001, Peter Steele the political agitator made his opinions known in a way that hadn't been seen in ten years.

Throughout the Halloween tour, the band revived the Beatles standard "Back in the U.S.S.R.," in reaction to the wave of American flag-waving prompted by the terrorist attack on the Twin Towers. At a date at the Chance Theater in Poughkeepsie, New York, Peter took the stage dressed in military combat gear, to the tune of traditional Russian music, declaring "Hi, we're from Afghanistan" to a stunned audience. Then the band launched into their cover of "Back in the U.S.S.R."

If this was his way of reminding the audience of the complex relationship that existed between the United States, Afghanistan, and Russia during the Cold War, it was a far more cynical observation than what he had publicly expressed during the very patriotic "U.S.A. for U.S.A." era.

The Devil's Advocate

As if Peter's political opinions were already hard to pin down before 2001, this kind of provocative commentary only clouded things further. America after 9/11 was a place that had become unsettling, gripped by confusion, and what Peter thought about what had happened wasn't all that complicated. He had been horrified by the attacks, like most Americans, but he preferred to play the provocateur in public rather than pick a side. He wasn't there to comfort his fans and tell them everything would be better now.

As he had told journalist John Fortunato a few years earlier: "I'm not at the heart of the party, but I'm the one who puts the cock in it."

The Table at Lundy's

It was impossible to predict in advance what this devil's advocate would declare, whether about politics or more intimate feelings. But one thing was certain: his friends and family could always count on his annual meal organized at Lundy's.

Located on Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn, this restaurant was open from 1934 to 2007, with an eighteen-year hiatus in 1977. Lundy's was one of Peter's favorite restaurants, and it was there that he organized his New Year's reception, a delayed Christmas gift for his inner circle (when the restaurant was closed, Peter organized his gatherings at La Caravelle, a eatery on Avenue M in Brooklyn).

Capable of seating up to 800 covers, the venue could easily accommodate this annual gathering that brought together everyone who truly mattered in his life, and he picked up the tab. Not only did the place welcome everyone Peter counted as close friends - about 150 people - but it was also where he felt most at ease, and it had nothing to do with business or the record industry.

Every year, one could see the best of Peter, the good and generous man that only those close to him knew from this angle. Even though he claimed to put an end to all parties, this one was his great opportunity to deploy all his tenderness and affection.