By BECKY EVANS (dailymail.co.uk)
The biannual Whitby Goth Weekend attracts people from all over UK
Event held in Whitby as town was where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula
Spooky: Goths Heath Waller and his daughter Meagan, 10, pose during the Goth festival in Whitby
A quiet seaside town was besieged by thousands of Goths at the weekend during a unique festival that celebrates the art of darkness.
Goths, romantics and macabre fans travelled over the moors to Whitby, which has become their spiritual home.
The town in North Yorkshire was chosen because it was where Bram Stoker wrote the gothic classic Dracula.
Armour: Liam Murray was dressed in an elaborate costume when he visited the festival
Zombie walk: The festival in Whitby is now in its 19th year and attracts around ten thousand people
Glamorous Goths: Artist Anne Sudworth, left, and festival goer Tara Price, right, strike a pose
It is filled with Goth landmarks including Whitby
Abbey, which is said to be the inspiration behind Dracula's castle.
The Whitby Goth Weekend is currently in its 19th year and is one of the biggest festivals of its kind in the world.
Since being launched in 1994, the event has become so popular it is held twice a year.
Festival founder Jo Hampshire said the town is 'the heart' of the event.
Piercing: Tara Price shows off her nose, lip, cheek and eyebrow studs
Eye-catching: The festival celebrates Goth culture including the music and fashion styles that grew from Punk
Bleak scenery: Rex Beck, left, and Scarlet Readman-Riley, right, dress up in full Goth costume
Colourful: Festival goers show there is more to Goth fashion than just wearing black
By; Brian Nixon (ASSIST News Service)
I was working on an article for ANS
that dealt with suicide, and how others can find help in the midst of pain, when the tragic news came in of Rick Warren son's suicide.
After reading this sad news, it seemed to be even more appropriate for me to release it at this time of pain for Pastor Rick and his wife Kay, as they deal with the death of Matthew, their 27-year-old son, who had long struggled with mental health issues.
Back in the mid-1980's one musical group loomed large in my faction of friend's consciousness: Joy Division. Considered by many as the architects of gothic music, this Manchester post-punk band helped pave the way for music that combined atmospheric sounds with punk-rock guitars. To say the least, my friends-and the group I was in-were fascinated by this seemingly incompatible combination. Early on, our band modeled our sound on Joy Division-using string tones on the keyboard mixed with loud guitars and driving tom-tom drums.
What we didn't seem to notice-or at least talk about-was the fact that the band was no longer together. After only two official album releases - "Unknown Pleasures" and "Closer" - the band ceased to exist after the suicide of its troubled singer, Ian Curtis.
Curtis, who suffered from depression and epilepsy, was born on July 15th, 1956 in the town of Stretford, Lancashire. Along with his friends, Curtis was enamored by the new sounds coming from America and London-what became known as punk rock. In 1976 Curtis and his future band mates-Bernard Summer and Peter Hook-witnessed the spectacle of a Sex Pistols concert, only to form their own band shortly afterwards.
Initially called Warsaw, the band changed its name to Joy Division, a title taken from a 1955 novel, House of Dolls, which focused on a Nazi concentration camp. Signed to an upstart record company in Manchester called Factory, Joy Division recorded the two albums mentioned above.
Around the same time, two other life changes occurred in Curtis' life: he married his girlfriend, Deborah Woodruff, having a child several years later in August 1979, and Ian began to have epileptic fits. The toxic combination of marital problems, epileptic drugs, a touring band, taking care of a family, and depression led to his untimely suicide on May 18th, 1980. All of this turmoil was on the heels of Joy Division's first American tour. It was never to happen.
Now turn to another country: India.
was born in Chennai, India in 1946. Descended from a Nambudiris
caste - a priestly Hindu order, Zacharias
was brought up in a culturally Christian household, products of Swiss-German missionaries sharing the Gospel with his family. But in his early teenage years, he considered himself an atheist, fighting against God and life.
I was able to listen to Ravi discuss his upbringing at a NRB radio conference in Nashville, Tennessee, a couple of years back. Ravi talked about the pain of his childhood mindset, which eventually led to his attempted suicide. The ache and grief Ravi felt was overwhelming. The only hope he foresaw as death. As it happened, he swallowed poison. But death didn't come. Instead, during recuperation at a local hospital someone shared with him from Gospel of John. From that moment on, Ravi dedicated himself to the cause of Christ. Since that day, Ravi has written dozens of books and spoken to people about Christ the world over.
In a recent Christianity Today article, Ravi describes his suicide attempt as follows: "I waited for my family members to leave for school or work.I filled a glass from the kitchen tap and took it to the bathroom, then bolted the door behind me. I poured the toxic packets into the glass, pushing all the thoughts of my mother aside, and started drinking as quickly as I could."
He concludes, by saying, "I was haunted by failure to the edge of suicide-and then came life."
The life he spoke of was Christ.
So how did two people with similar bouts of depression have two different endings: one to life, the other to death? To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. It would be a dishonest statement for me to summarise it in simple terms, saying that one was lucky and the other one not so fortunate. Or even couch it in spiritual terms: God was with Ravi but not with Ian. From a Biblical standpoint, God loved both Ravi and Ian. Maybe it came down to simple surrender: Ian surrendered to death; Ravi surrendered to Christ. And this surrender made all the difference. Or maybe it was because someone reached out to Ravi.
The point is we may never know this side of eternity.
What we do know is that people around the world commit suicide every day. According to SAVE (Suicide Awareness Voice of Education), "suicide takes the lives of nearly 30,000 American every year". With "half of all suicides occurring in adult men, ages 25-65". Even more shocking, SAVE states that "for young people 15-24 years old, suicide is the third leading cause of death".
With such sad statistics, the question for the Christian is what are we to do to help those individuals in need?
According to an article by the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, entitled, "Godly Wisdom for Suicide Prevention", the article gives concrete-spiritual advice-on helping folks deal with suicide:
One, offer hope to the person: "There is hope - eternal hope - in a relationship with Jesus Christ."
Two, help them recognise their need for Christ: "Put your faith and hope in Christ and His love for you. You are never alone if you know Him."
By: Simon Price of The Guardian
From emo kids to metallers
, young people should be free to express themselves without fear of assault. I should know – I call myself a recovering goth
, but I still get abuse on the streets of Brighton
Sophie Lancaster was murdered in 2007. Greater Manchester police has begun recording offences against members of alternative subcultures as hate crimes. Photograph: Lancashire Police/PA
When is a goth not a goth? The politics of nomenclatures and epithets, when it comes to youth culture, are fraught: people who have consciously separated themselves from the mainstream are understandably wary of accepting any label, especially one given to them by the media. "How do you spot a goth?" the old joke used to run. "They'll swear they're not a goth," was the punchline. The logic of the witches' ducking stool applied: you were damned if you did, damned if you didn't (and probably a fan of the Damned, either way).
These days, if anyone asks, I tend to say I'm a "recovering goth". My own gothic period was 1986-1993, and I seldom participate in the subculture itself any more, but certain habits still linger: I'm reluctant to leave the house without full makeup and carefully spiked hair, I have a tendency to dress entirely in black, and retain an undying fondness for the gloomy alternative rock of the 80s.
and the Banshees: goth's
post-punk beginnings. Photograph: Stevenson/Rex Features
The goth scene emerged from the arty end of the post-punk fallout, when a gaggle of stray Blitz kids decamped to the Batcave Club and began listening to, and subsequently making, dark, doomy music whose primary obsessions were sex, death, decadence, horror and the mysteries of the occult. Early bands described as "goth" – though hardly ever by themselves – included Joy Division, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Bauhaus, the Birthday Party, the Cure, Killing Joke, the Cult and the Sisters of Mercy.
Goth, with its twin capitals of Soho-Camden and Leeds-Bradford, became one of Britain's biggest youth tribes, and the goth look – big, backcombed black hair, ghostly white skin, scarlet lipstick, heavy eyeliner, lace, buckles and PVC – became an easy cultural identifier. By the early 90s, however, it had run out of steam, overshadowed by new crazes such as acid house, Madchester, grunge and Britpop. In the UK, the scene went underground, but was kept alive – or undead – by enclaves in Europe (where it turned electronic) and America (where it went metallic).
Marilyn Manson: goth revival. Photograph: Ferdy Damman/EPA
A full-scale revival occurred at the turn of the millennium, arguably powered by two forces: the global success of Marilyn Manson, and the existence of the internet. This time around, the dandyish look of the 80s had lost favour, and for male goths, long hair and trenchcoats had replaced mega-quiffs and frilly shirts, making them almost indistinguishable from (traditionally more masculine) metallers.
Meanwhile, a relatively new scene – emo – had arrived. Originally a minor subdivision of American hardcore punk, emo became a worldwide phenomenon, as bands including My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco and Paramore welded pained teenage angst to urgent pop-punk melodies. Older goths tend to view shopping-mall emo kids, with their smudged eyeliner and dyed hair, as merely "baby goths".
Paramore: 'Teenage angst with urgent pop-punk melodies.'
And, while there are dozens of even smaller subgenres, from cybergoth to screamo to steampunk, there's no doubt that the distinctions between the four main tribes identified by Greater Manchester police – goths, punks, emos, metallers – are now extremely blurred to the untrained eye, with significant crossover between them.
BY KAI SAM NG (cornellsun.com)
With new and upcoming releases from big name bands like My Bloody Valentine and Daft Punk, it’s hard not to be fixated on the future. But we also shouldn’t forget about those forgotten artists that nevertheless shaped what we hear today. Here are four.
While Joy Division gets a lot of credit for shaping post-punk, Unknown Pleasures was an exception to the genre. Its melancholic disquiet was a gigantic jump from the in-your-face grit of bands like The Fall, early Siouxsie and the Banshees. The Sound’s music, however, is much more indicative of a slow trend from grit to texture. In its debut album, Jeopardy (1980), tracks range from uptempo punk to brooding basslines of existential angst and bridge everything in between.
The band’s lack of commercial success, despite rave reviews, is frustrating. After a second excellent album, From the Lions Mouth (1981), failed to break into the mainstream, the band’s record label pressured the group to make pop-ish songs. The band responded with the bizarre All Fall Down and soon changed labels. Even with the change, The Sound still saw little success, and the group broke up in 1988. Failure, along with the depression he alluded constantly to in lyrics, pushed frontman Adrian Borland to suicide, and he jumped in front of a train in 1999.
Notable tracks: “Fatal Flaw,” “Night Versus Day,” “Heartland,” “New Dark Age.”
I’m cheating here, because Kate Bush is big in the UK — just, not in America. During the 2012 London Olympics Closing Ceremony, NBC cut out the entire dance choreographed to Bush’s “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God).” While Bush is resurging in the United States with the stunning 50 Words for Snow (2011), much of her earlier work is absent from the American music conversation. She was the first, and still the best, weird lady of pop, blending a quirkiness that Zooey Deschanel could only dream of with a subtle flair no one has convincingly copied.
Hounds of Love (1985) is still one of the best pop albums ever made, though it really is two albums. The eponymous first side of the vinyl has gems with a conventional pop structure, but the second side, “The Ninth Wave,” contains mind-blowing experimental art pop that still sounds fresh 30 years later. This album is definitely her most ambitious, but it is also a triumph of an already exceptional musical career that seamlessly blended Celtic jigs, liturgical chants, synth pop and lush ambience into beautiful digestible ballads.
Notable tracks: “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God),” “Suspended In Gaffa,” “Jig of Life,” “Delius (Song of Summer).”