In a sea of eyeliner, fog, and pulsing darkwave, the stage at Propaganda took a sharp, compelling turn when Mark Sinnis stepped into the red-lit spotlight. A veteran of the dark music scene and a presence that demanded attention, Sinnis hails from New York City and now resides in Wilmington, North Carolina. After serving four years in the U.S. Air Force, he launched his music career in the late ’80s, co-founding the punk-turned-goth band Apostates, later forming the gothic Americana group Ninth House. Today, his solo work carries the torch of his self-forged genre: Cemetery & Western—a brooding blend of gothic country, roots rock, and outlaw soul. Tatted from head to toe and dressed in black from his boots to a wide-brimmed hat, Sinnis looked every bit the gothic western outlaw. A detailed medallion hung from his chest, and intricate tattoos peeked from beneath his sleeves—each mark another story etched into the skin of a man who has lived through, and sung through, his own darkness. His beard alone told a story—an epic fusion of President Lincoln’s stoic chin curtain and ZZ Top’s outlaw flair—unapologetically rock ’n’ roll. With a voice often compared to Johnny Cash and Roy Orbison, Sinnis crafts songs steeped in memory, loss, and a stubborn will to survive—all delivered with a baritone so rich and resonant it feels carved from gravestone marble. Lyrically, he bleeds onto the stage—his words sharp and confessional, cloaked in poetic darkness yet unmistakably human. At times, he seemed transported, as if the lyrics were pulling him into another dimension. Earlier in the set, he reached into the past to unearth a song he hadn’t performed in over two decades—written back in the 1990s. It felt like a resurrection, a summoning of old ghosts and long-buried truths. And just as the crowd settled into the weight of that moment, he offered the opposite—a song still in its infancy. “This one’s called As the Crow Flies,” he said. It was so new, he admitted, he didn’t even know all the lyrics yet. But he smiled and leaned into the unknown. “Sometimes,” he told us, “you’ve got to step out of your comfort zone—even if you’re not ready.” And with that, he offered a raw, unrehearsed glimpse into his creative edge. His presence added something vital to the celebration: a reminder that gothic isn’t confined to synths and eyeliner. It’s also found in the twang of a mournful chord, in the echo of a love gone wrong, in the scars we carry and the songs we write about them. His voice and lyrics were raw, unfiltered, and captivating—he truly pulled me into his world and held me there. There’s no doubt that when we heard his baritone and guitar sound, Mark Sinnis got us all up outta the ground.