Demian Sharpe does far too much thinking. The time that most
other persons would spend in pleasant diversions, social interactions, or personal advancements, Demian generally spends pacing
to and fro, smoking tobacco, his brow knotted, his eyes a-wander, absorbed in his thoughts.
It happens that for the past few years, leading back to no certain cause,
Demian's thoughts have been concerned almost completely with Gothicism: goth culture, goth music, goth appearances, goth literature,
goth, goth, goth, goth, goth. Examining everything from Poe to The Crow, from Bauhaus to Baudelaire, Demian has pondered
arduously the wildly disparate elements comprising Gothicism in popular culture. He has sought out common threads, plummed
for common origins, and labored to make sense out of this barely-definable thing called "goth" - this thing which, Demian
knows, is better understood in the realm of feeling and intuition than in that of immediate experience. For Demian has
always felt gothic; he has forever intuited a nearness to things which are often termed gothic. This sense,
however - so far from being a thing assumed - has directed Demian into a bewildering labyrinth of irreconcilable contradictions
and impenetrable enigmas. In consequence, he has cursed himself for becoming consumed in a world of vague whisps and
amorphous non-absolutes; cursed himself for being goth; cursed himself for never being able to tell what a goth is, or to
what his title is owed. He has come to despair, and in despairing, has returned again and again to the gates - realizing
that it is despair itself which defines goth - and so resuming his pursuit.
In the midst of these considerations, Demian has distracted himself with
the creation of music. This, however, has brought no relief to his fevered obsessions. Over seven years, Demian
has gone through continuous transformations - visually and stylistically - in his attempts to personify the gothic ideal.
For seven years, he has failed. A chimera has eluded him, guiding him from one dark corner to the next, and each time,
conducting him into a wall. This chimera - this transfixing and unattainable specter - is best called "purity".
In his consultations with other goths, self-named experts, interested and disinterested outsiders, and his own exasperated
psyche, Demian has never achieved - or more than half-consciously glimpsed - Gothic Purity; though it has passed once or twice
by the corner of his eye.
In June of 2004, Demian rather spontaneously recorded a song called "The
Youngest Fruits". The first version was around 15 minutes long, and a second "final" version - recorded a few days after
the first - doubled the length to 33 minutes. Upon reviewing this second version a number of times, the realization
slowly crept into Demian's consciousness that he had, more or less in spite of himself, created the most flawlessly gothic
musical/lyrical composition thusfar known to him. And though since that point, Demian has continued to write, record,
and perform music of various sorts, he has done so with the persistent knowledge that the epic "Youngest Fruits" was not only
his greatest accomplishment and foremost musical legacy, but the key that would unlock gothicism's chamber of mysteries.
Somewhere, encoded within the merciless rhythm and ungulating chords, is contained a cipher which not even the song's author
is entirely capable of extracting.
A year later, Demian is still working. He is shaping himself to
match the paradigm cast subconsciously in the composition of the "Youngest Fruits." He is laboring to be worthy of the
revelation given to him, and worthy to interpret and convey those yet to be received. He has sacrificed himself to the
task of refining and redefining the spirit of goth, while sweeping away the defilements which time and indescriminate utilization
by the public has heaped upon her.
Please read the other essays provided on this site using the navigation
bar above, or click here to visit Demian Sharpe's official music site, and find out how he's been
using his talents to make the world a better place for goths.