
Nearly 40 years on from their peak period (1979-1983), goth-rock pioneers Bauhaus still sounded vital and vicious. Playing to a large and largely black-clad crowd of die-hard fans at the Paramount last night, the original lineup of vocalist Peter Murphy, drummer Kevin Haskins, guitarist/saxophonist Daniel Ash, and bassist David J ripped through 16 songs from the aforementioned era (including four covers) to the sort of applause, âWOOâs, and âWE LOVE YOUâs that reflected an undying devotionâand a potent strain of nostalgia.
As far as one could see, the attendees were standing throughout the set, many venturing into the aisles to dance. Sing-alongs happened, unfortunately, as during the night's last third, Murphy's aging pipes needed some slack picked up. (Curses, though, to the dude behind me for his wack âsingingâ to âKick in the Eye.â

Bauhaus were fairly businesslike onstage, except for Murphy, who was as theatrical as a Shakespeare troupe. Looking literally like a cartoon villain with his bald pate, white beard, and intense glare, Murphy spent the first few songs stalking the stage with a scepter, hamming it up for the photographers and Instagrammers. (The feather-laden top he donnedâwhich looked like a Roxy Music-era Brian Eno cast-offâwas a nice, softening touch.) Thankfully, he's appeared to have recovered from his 2019 heart attack.

Fluctuating between stentorian belting and guttural crooning, Murphy dialed in his thespianic and messianic gestures to 11. Did he use the mic stand as a cross on which to feign crucifixion during âStigmata Martyrâ? Christ almighty, he did. Did he wield his scepter like a mad king during âDouble Dareâ and âIn the Flat Fieldâ? My camera cannot lie. Did he hold aloft a crown in the middle of the set? Assuredly. Did he broadly gesture to the heavens as the spotlight illuminated him during âBela Lugosi's Deadâ? You bet your translucent black cape he did. Did he out-Bowie David Bowie during Bauhaus' cover of âZiggy Stardustâ in the three-song encore? Oh, he took it all too far, but, boy, could Dan Ash play guitar.
While the song selection was solid (though I am probably not the only person in the house who could've used âTerror Couple Kills Colonelâ) and the performances tight, the sound was less than optimal. Murphy's vocals and Haskins's drums boomed with apt bombasticness, but Ash's slashing guitar and J's oft-dubby bass deserved more prominence in the mix. Especially during the intro to âBela Lugosi's Dead,â the bass should be trembling our internal organs and the guitar lacerating our skin. Both were muted. T.Rex's âTelegram Samââwhich is the rare cover that surpasses the originalâshould've torn us asunder and made the walls quake, as it does on record. But no.

One impressive thing about Bauhaus: For all of their enduring popularity, even their hits boast weird rhythms and unusual timbres. âThe Passion of Lovers,â âShe's in Parties,â âKick in the Eye,â âDark Entriesâ (a song so dope, a label named itself after it), âBelaâ... all will stand out in your typical â'80s Nightâ dance events. And how many groups on the nostalgia circuit would open their sets with an obscure John Cale B-side, such as the ominous stomper âRosegarden Funeral of Soresâ? How many marquee acts would cover Iggy Pop's lurching, doom-laden âSister Midnightâ to kick off an encore? Very few. You have to respect Bauhaus' commitment to doing whatever the fuck they want while raking in big paydays. Goth rock will never die, if Murphy & Co. have anything to groan about it.

Hailing from Portland, opener Soriah set a shamanic tone that cleansed the room of maleficent juju. Dressed like a new wave Dr. John at the height of Mardi Gras, Soriah (aka Enrique Ugalde) vocalized in a cavernous manner known as Tuvan throat singing, which generates shocking overtones. The effect is eerie and stunning, as if Soriah had a synthesizer and/or Theremin lodged in his larynx. At its most extreme, his voice sounded like he was gargling coal nuggets; it was a staccato, glottal flow I've never heard a human produce. Augmented by the drummer's ritualistic, tom-heavy beats and Soriah's FX box, the music came off like a more sinister Dead Can Dance. The goths loved this primal Sturm und Drang. Credit to Bauhaus for choosing an artist so decidedly non-rock & roll to set the scene.
BAUHAUS SETLIST
Rosegarden Funeral of Sores
Double Dare
In The Flat Field
A God in an Alcove
In Fear of Fear
The Spy In the Cab
Sheâs In Parties
Kick In The Eye
Bela Lugosiâs Dead
Silent Hedges
The Passion of Lovers
Stigmata Martyr
Dark Entries
ENCORE
Sister Midnight
Telegram Sam
Ziggy Stardust