Bobby “Boris” Pickett died today at the senseless age of 69. The culprit? Leukemia. Leucrappia, if you ask me.
Pickett, of course, wrote and recorded “Monster Mash,” the ultimate Halloween anthem and, in my opinion, mankind’s second greatest achievement (the first being Van Halen’s “Hot For Teacher”). I mean, come on – with one singular Boris Karloff impression, Bobby Pickett gave birth to goth, black metal, and horror rap. These are truths that cannot be denied.
I saw Bobby “Boris” Pickett once, in concert. He was the surprise guest at the Gluecifer show I attended in October of 2005. Suddenly, between bands, this old codger sauntered out on stage in a lab coat. It wasn’t immediately clear what was happening; was this the Vincent Price resurrection as foretold by the prophets? Before I could shit a brick, the fossil spoke:
“Every year they drag me out to sing this song,” he said, or something like that. I still had no idea what was going on. After some more stage patter (including a hilarious dig at Elvis I wish I could remember), the “Mash” began and it all made sense. Bobby “Boris” Pickett, in the house at the Gluecfier show. I’m guessing there wasn’t much to talk about backstage – they don’t have Halloween in Norway, and they don’t have Gluecifer at the retirement home.
But I kid the recently deceased mother of all one hit wonders. You did humanity proud, Bobby. If not for you, Marilyn Manson would have no career. I bet that gets you the cloud of your choice with optional Anna Nicole angel. Enjoy it.