It’s one of the great and enduring mysteries of the world—one that’s right up there with “What was Lil Yachty thinking?”; “How many years will Keith Richards outlive us all—including the cockroaches­—by?”; and “Why doesn’t Matty Healy learn to once and for all shut his big fucking trap?”.

This question is one of economics: “Considering how Halloween-obsessed North Americans have become, why hasn’t your favourite pop star figured out there’s a shit-ton of money to be made?” And it’s a valid one, because God knows that, as much as it likes to pretend it’s about art, the music industry is really about commerce.

Put another way: how is it that, for 99 per cent of the population, “Halloween music” still consists of Bobby “Boris” Pickett and the Crypt-Kickers’ “Monster Mash”, Ray Parker Jr.’s “Ghostbusters”, and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”? The caveat being that this is in some ways understandable because, as much as Canadians and Americans will spend an estimated $14 billion (yes, you read that right) on Halloween this year, basically no one makes Halloween albums.

For proof, Google “Best Halloween Songs”, at which point you’ll get endless lists that, more often than not, are complete reaches. Take the normally reliable Time Out, which takes the tack that vaguely scary words—zombie, psycho, Melania Trump—in a song’s title make it perfect for Halloween. Hence the Specials’ “Ghost Town” (about inner city unemployment and violence), Rockwell’s “Somebody’s Watching Me” (inspired by Big Brother), and Rihanna’s “Disturbia” are all listed by Time Out as graveyard-party bangers.

And don’t forget the Shakira spine chiller “She Wolf”, the video for which is admittedly disturbing for no other reason than the “dancing” seems to be inspired by Elaine Benes.

None of the above conjure up the dying days of October.

Here’s a weird thing: Christmas music has long been a cash cow milked by everyone from Bing Crosby and Burl Ives to the Flaming Lips and Twisted Sister. Bob Dylan, Barbara Streisand, Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, and Kenny G might not exactly come to mind when one thinks of high-profile practicing Christians, but they’ve all made Christmas albums. The same goes for mega-heathen metal mavens Amon Amarth, Manowar, and King Diamond.

As for Halloween albums—not one-off songs, but actual full-lengths from the artists that have instant name recognition?

Admittedly, Duran Duran is back in the news this fall for its decision to release a “holiday album,” the twist being that Danse Macabre has been pitched as a Halloween-friendly embracing of the band’s goth-punk roots. While covering 45 Grave’s “Evil”, Echo & the Bunnymen’s “Killing Moon”, or Throbbing Gristle’s “Hamburger Lady” would have earned Simon Le Bon and Co. true cool points, kudos for at least trying by tackling Siouxsie and the Banshees’ “Spellbound”.

But Danse Macabre is an outlier in the mainstream, which is kind of wild considering there's a lesson to be learned from it: it’s actually given us a reason to talk about Duran Duran in 2023. Meanwhile, your 2023 Halloween playlist—for driving to the pumpkin patch, decorating the house, handing out mini Mars bars, or watching Night of the Giving Head with the sound off—once again probably consists of “Monster Mash”, “Thriller”, and “Ghostbusters.”

The key word above in the above paragraph is “mainstream,” because as the season’s true obsessives know, you can unearth Halloween gold if you’re willing to dig deep enough.

You want five songs more creepily atmospheric than “Thriller” on every front? (And which, tellingly, large swaths of the population has never heard?) Here you go:

1. Colourbox “Hot Doggie”, for no other reason than The Evil Dead sample of “You will die—one by one,” complete with the running chainsaw.

2. Joy Division “Dead Souls”, where the dark-garden guitar riff is just as great as the nihlism-rules title.

3. Skinny Puppy “Tin Omen”, which has the Vancouver industrial legends sounding more terrifying than Ministry during the glory years.

4. Sister of Mercy “This Corrosion”, where goth is taken to turbo-baroque extremes.

5. Ministry “Stigmata”, with the caveat that you also owe it to yourself to dig into the vaults for the fantastically foppish, pre-glory-years “Every Day Is Halloween”.

AS FOR FERRETING out Halloween-friendly full-lengths, it’s entirely understandable if that seems like too much effort. After all, when October rolls around it’s hard enough unearthing Halloween movies that you haven’t seen two-dozen times. (On that front, here you go with the Straight’s carefully curated list of five under-the-radar fright flicks, and you’re welcome in advance for Macabre and Sleepaway Camp in particular, where “blood-splattered” only begins to describe things.

Back to creating the perfect Halloween playlist. What follows are five scarily perfect full-lengths to get you going, all made for nights when the fog is swirling, the moon is full, and dead leaves litter the ground.

The connecting thread? Each record, in a different way, sounds like the spooky season. Which is more than one can say for goddamn “Ghostbusters”. 

T.S.O.L. Dance With Me

After roaring out of suburban Los Angeles with politically-charged early ’80s anthems like “Abolish Government”, T.S.O.L. pulled a surprise hard-left with its first full-length Dance With Me. With the lightning-sheet guitar work of Ron Emory setting a mood that’s more horror-film goth-punk than American hardcore, singer Jack Grisham sings of ebony coffins, split personalities, funeral marches, and dying with dignity. With lines like ““I wanna fuck the dead”, “Code Blue” got all the underground attention here, but it’s the elegant “Silent Scream” that’s the real showpiece.

Killer lyrics: “I’m the sexton’s spade, the new thrown clay/I’m what’s left when they walk away.”

Dead Can Dance Spiritchaser

If you had to pick only masterwork from the Dead Can Dance catalogue, that would be Into the Labyrinth’s gloomy “How Fortunate the Man With None”, which sets Bertolt Brecht’s poem to what sounds like October in a Glasgow graveyard. The mystical Spiritchaser came three years after the Australian group’s breakthrough, with the songs putting a dream-fever spin on world music. If the 1932 Boris Karloff version of The Mummy had a soundtrack, it would sound a lot like this.

Killer lyrics: “Awoke this morning to find my people’s tongues were tied/And in my dreams they were given books to poison their minds.”

Misfits Walk Among Us

Forty years after no one—with the exception of Flipside readers and Kirk Hammett—bought Walk Among Us, the Misfits are solidly entrenched in pop culture. Raise your gnarled hands if you’ve seen the band’s “Crimson Ghost” logo everywhere from kids’ lunchboxes to the T-shirts of supermodels. Walk Among Us is first-wave punk at its most hook-studded, the EC Comic-inspired songs obsessed with Martians invading from outer space, female vampires, marauding astro zombies, and reanimated human corpses.

Killer lyrics: “Brains for dinner, brains for lunch/Brains for breakfast, brains for brunch/Brains at every single meal—why can’t we have some guts?”

Portishead Roseland NYC Live

Right from the start of “Humming”—things kick off with waves of Plan 9 from Outer Space waves of Theremin—Portishead shoots for something more than faithfully recreating its back catalogue. While the backing of a full orchestra might suggest something elegant and ornate, eerie and atmospheric are far more accurate reference points.

Killer lyrics: “And this loneliness/It’s just won’t leave me alone.”

Dead Man’s Bones Dead Man’s Bones 

The normal question anytime you get a musical project featuring a moonlighting Hollywood actor is: “Why?” Looking at you, Thirty Seconds to Mars, Tenacious D, and, um, Dogstar. Dead Man’s Bones somehow largely remains a secret, despite the fact that Ryan Gosling is one-half of the band—performing as “Baby Goose” alongside Zach Shields. With help from the Flea-funded Silverlake Conservatory Children’s Choir, the two deliver 44 minutes of pure black-and-orange-flavoured gold on the Anti-Records debut Dead Man’s Bones, the songs as haunting as they are low-key creepy. One question, though: “Why?” As in: “We know you’ve got other things on the go, but why have you kept us waiting 15 years for a follow-up to a record that’s scarily perfect, especially when spun during Halloween?”

Highlight lyrics: “Love was all that it could give/But it died so other towns could live.”