dinsdag 21 december 2021

25 YEARS OF AHRÁYEPH: Everything I do, right or wrong, is being determined by my autism

25 years, that's how long Ahráyeph has been around. Or rather: in 1996, the first demo of Crucifire, the predecessor of Ahráyeph, was released. In 2021 the ‘XXV’-E.P. was released by Ahráyeph, which had to celebrate a quarter of a century of music by Raf Ahráyeph – Raf Jansen for the friends. We thought this was a great opportunity to review the most important dates from this ‘prog-goth’ career with Raf. We had many questions, and Raf has always answered extensively and remarkably candidly. So it turned out to be a long, but very interesting interview.

1996: You record your first demo for Crucifire, a goth metal band which is a precursor for Ahráyeph. Tell me how that came about?

At that time, I used to live in an old convent, which also housed university students. Among others, Steven Zwaenepoel, now road manager for dEUS, lived there. In 1995, Jo, Crucifire’s bassist to be, got a room in Steven’s hallway for the duration of his nursing apprenticeship. We kept in touch afterwards and because he had told me of his band, Sarcastic, I went to a rehearsal of theirs in the Spring of 1996. They mostly played cover songs, like Therapy?’s ‘Teethgrinder’. I had already laid the initial foundations for Crucifire with a first demo, recorded on an analog four track back in 1995, and was now looking for a band. Jo, playing bass, and his buddies David and Peter were competent musicians, so I proposed to segue their band into mine.

I don’t remember why, but Peter wasn’t part of it initially, so we had a different guitar player for a while. When he failed to show, it turned out that Peter was interested after all. David moved from drums to keyboards and electronic percussion, because I had an amazing drummer in my buddy Geert, who - without wanting to diminish his drumming abilities - outclassed David on that instrument. But David had a lot more qualities: he had a much broader theoretical knowledge and was a multi-instrumentalist, so I really wanted to keep him in the band, even if we already had a keyboard player in Raf Corten, who I later took with me to Ancient Rites.

The six of us then started rehearsing and recorded a first, hideously sounding demo in October 1996. We did parts of that in our rehearsal space and in the loft I had moved to, which has been immortalised as ‘The White Square’. We had really decent recording gear, which is surprising for a fledgling band, but we made up for the lack of recording experience with enthusiasm, with all the hideously sounding consequences.

 

1996-1997: You start playing in the black metal band Ancient Rites. Is that the reason why Crucifire got sidetracked?

I have to adjust that timeline a bit: I’ve played in Ancient Rites for about six months that first time, from September 1996 till March 1997, with a one-off stand in gig in May, when Erik couldn’t make it to the concert. My addition to that band wasn’t the reason why Crucifire got sidetracked, though, because the band kept existing, albeit less and less as time went by, until early 1998. A couple of the rehearsal demos we recorded during that time, I later crafted into songs that appeared on the first few Ahráyeph releases (e.g., ‘Cure/Divine/Madness’). No, the reason for Crucifire’s slow demise had more to do with the fact that first Jo and then Geert quit, respectively due to studies and work commitments. Hence, they couldn’t dedicate enough time to the band. For a while, that dampened Peter and David’s enthusiasm, but one by one they returned. Raf apparently liked being in Ancient Rites better and started to be absent from our rehearsals without ever giving a reason. He just disappeared at crucial times. This became something of a recurring thing with him, which ultimately cost him his place in Ancient Rites and its side band, Danse Macabre.

Besides all that, our soft drug use, which Geert had brought into the rehearsals, became a big part of the band’s undoing. Rehearsals started to turn into excuses to smoke pot until deep into the night. I wasn’t happy with that, but I didn’t possess the authority to nip it in the bud either, not least because I was a guilty party.

 


2001: Crucifire dies a quiet death, but around the turn of the century you reboot the project. You change the name to Ahráyeph and steer the ship towards gothic rock, without the metal influences. What was your motivation to start over?

Well, it may sound funny, but that first demo played a big part in that. I met the drummer of a band that often had opened for Ancient Rites. He was a fan of the songs on the demo and sang their praises in the presence of friends of mine, who only knew my alt rock project Sole, so they became curious about what I had done prior to that. However, I was too embarrassed about its bad quality to let them listen to it. Eventually, though, it did happen and one of them, one of the biggest fans of The Sisters Of Mercy I’ve known, was of the opinion that Crucifire was where my heart was at more than those alternative songs. That made me think, and after a couple days of brainstorming, I decided he was right and rebooted Crucifire. Still a while later, I changed the name, because I indeed wanted to expel the metal influences present in Crucifire. Not that I suddenly resented metal; I was just looking to conceive a more organic, open sound, with more atmosphere. Besides that, an Australian thrash band who used the same name had come into existence in the interim (they are no longer active). And lastly, I was the only remaining original band member, so it was an easy decision.

 

2004-2007: You once again become a member of Ancient Rites. You’ve contributed significantly to this band in this period, especially as a song writer on the ‘Rubicon’ album. In 2007 you leave Ancient Rites to concentrate on Ahráyeph. What do you remember about your time in the band?

Oh boy… You got a couple of hours? A lot happened back then, both good and bad. To keep it positive: we’ve played several great gigs. There was the Revoltallo XIII festival in Vigo, Spain, where we played on a mountain which looked out over the bay where the city lay. A beautiful spot, which had a restaurant nearby which was situated under a large rock. Fascinating. The audience was truly amazing that night. I had contracted a twenty-four-hour flu from the air conditioning on the plane and played with a fever, but the audience was so riled up they really pulled me through with their unbridled enthusiasm.

I also met Marec in the band, who had recently become their sound engineer. He would also come to fill that position in Ahráyeph. A wonderful human being who knew his craft inside and out, to both bands’ advantage. Unfortunately, he got diagnosed with Meunière’s Disease shortly before the pandemic hit, which is causing him to lose his hearing. A serious loss, both for Marec and the bands he worked with. But the comradeship remains, even if we don’t talk very often. He even came and helped me out with the renovations here for a few weeks right before the pandemic hit, just out of kindness. He’s contributed so much to Ahráyeph, more than many an ex-band member, so I would be remiss if I didn’t mention him.

Our gig at the Graspop Metal Meeting in 2006 was of course also a personal high note. I’m a full blood Kempian (Kempen being the Belgian geographic region where the festival is held annually), so being able to play in your own region at the biggest metal festival in Belgium and one of the biggest in Europe, couldn’t be anything else than a high note. Musically, it may not have been our strongest concert, no doubt due to raging nerves, but the Marquee was packed to the rafters, all the way to the outside, I was told later, and we got an amazing reception. There were also friends and acquaintances in the audience, which made it extra special. Other than that, our backstage trailer was across from Alice In Chains’, who are musical heroes of mine. I was able to exchange a few words with Jerry and Sean, very nice guys. But the most rock ’n roll moments of my life happened when I went to the toilet before our gig and ended up standing at the urinals between their singer William DuVall and the New York Dolls’s David Johanssen. Then you know you’ve arrived, hahaha!

Another high point was of course the album ‘Rubicon’ itself. I’m still immensely proud of that album. It’s true that the music for most of the songs was written by me, but Erik’s songs and ‘Brabantia’, which I co-wrote with Domingo are just as strong. There are no weak songs on that album. And it also contains some of Gunther’s strongest lyrics. I recall that Erik and I went out for a drink one night during the recording process, because we needed a break and during the ride into Krefeld, we agreed that we had a strong album on our hands. This was evidenced later when the invariably positive reviews started coming in. That’s also the reason why I stayed in the band longer than I intended, as after the record was finished, things were said and done to which I took great exception, but I just couldn’t detach myself from those songs. Let’s call it vanity…

 

2008: it’s finally here: ‘Marooned on Samsara’, Ahráyeph’s debut. I’ve come to understand it was a difficult undertaking, because even though you had a band, you’ve recorded a lot of it by yourself. How happy were you with this album?

I was happy that the album was released and got the opportunity to do so via D-Monic. Contrary to what you often hear, I’ve never had any complaints about the label that released ‘Samsara’. They’ve always treated me fairly and stuck to the contract and the agreements we made. It’s just unfortunate they weren’t able to provide tour support because they weren’t big enough to do that. I’m sure they would have if they could have. That could’ve made a difference.


2008: I’ve only seen you live once, at a gig promoted by Bunkerleute at the Lido (Leuven, BE). You still had a band back then, now you’re doing everything on your own. Is there still a chance you’ll be playing live again with Ahráyeph?

That chance is definitely still there, but unfortunately, with the times being the way they are, it’s not the right time to start organising that. I’d have to find new musicians to accompany me, organise rehearsals, find a booking agency… As long as the pandemic rolls on and the uncertain times for artists continue, I don’t think it’s the right time to put all of that in motion, even if the desire to play live definitely exists. I’ve not played live for much too long and it’s something I always loved. After my first European tour with Ancient Rites, I knew I was born to be on the road, as exhaustive as it can be. I came back from that tour completely drained, but after just one night’s sleep in my own bed, I was ready and willing to jump back on the tour bus and do another ten days straight. That says it all. I come alive when I’m onstage, even if I don’t talk much or at all between songs. That’s not arrogance: my songs are my way of communicating with the audience, what more do you need to add to that? But I’d really love to do that again. If there are any interested musicians out there: you can always contact me through the band’s official Facebook page.

2013: You get the diagnosis of having Autism Spectrum Disorder. On the one hand, you’re extremely intelligent, on the other you have issues with things that are mere afterthoughts to the average person. Do you think this disorder had an impact on your work with Ahráyeph?

Without a shadow of a doubt. Everything I do, right or wrong, is being determined by my disorder. It’s only when I got that diagnosis, that I started to realise how deep the impact of it has been on everything I’m doing and everything I’ve experienced.

Allow me to say that I think it important to be open about my A.S.D. Some people, even fellow musicians, have tried to pressure me and told me I shouldn’t, but especially in times like these and after everything I’ve been through, it’s important to me to be able to be who I am. And I’ve also always supported other people in their quest to be who they are. I was bullied in high school, my family looked down on me… I ended up with bouts of prolonged severe depression and an extremely negative self-image because of that; I constantly hit the walls of my own boundaries, I was (and still am) considered a weirdo because I react in a raw and unfiltered way to everything, something I still often do because unfortunately, it’s beyond my control. I’ve been hurt, but I also have hurt, sometimes without realising just how much. There are certain relationships where, in hindsight, I have to admit I can’t hold it against those women that they ended them, because due to the combination of my autistic nature with those depressions and their ensuing self-esteem issues, I treated them less than they were worth. At the same time, I’ve also been easy prey for women who didn’t have my best interests at heart, due to my A.S.D. That’s how a song like, say, ‘Lilith’ came into being. Since my diagnosis and the therapy going along with it, I’ve become (more) aware of my own shortcomings, but just as well of my own boundaries, and that helps. Ahráyeph, in that sense, has always been an outlet for all these autistic experiences and observations. Ahráyeph is my self therapy. I certainly am not the only one in the music scene in that respect. And speaking of that self-esteem : it’s a lot better now. I don’t hate myself anymore, but the emotional damage I’ve accumulated over four decades has left an indelible imprint on me. It can’t be helped, but fortunately, I have Ahráyeph to help me deal with that.

Practically speaking, my A.S.D. has also interfered with Ahráyeph and cost me many an opportunity, because I am, after all, who I am and the disorder is an integral part of my personality, even if I am, obviously, more than just my disorder. I am simply unable to turn it off. It’s always there and that’s often tiring, even for me. And when it comes to interpersonal dynamics, it’s never easy to deal with other people. I’m extremely detailed and hence very verbose (for example: it’s not easy for me to keep my answers to your questions concise, because I want to paint as detailed a picture as possible, which is, of course, impossible), am always striving for perfection and hence am not making it easy on myself as well as others. And at the same time, I have zero tolerance for laziness, manipulative behaviour, and selfishness. When it comes to band dynamics, those were too often the causes for rifts, not just in Ahráyeph, for that matter.

 

2015: It takes seven years before there’s a follow up to ‘Marooned on Samsara’, a delay caused in part by a serious burn out. Nevertheless, ‘AnimAElegy’ is a real gem. This time you record everything yourself, except for guest musicians on drums and keyboards. Are you still proud of this album?

Definitely. I have to correct you, though: Ness was not a guest musician, but a band member in Ahráyeph’s last live line up. It’s too bad she, too, had to give priority to her job, because she was without a doubt the Ahráyeph band member who meant the most to me, both on a personal and a musical level. I still miss working with her.

Getting back to ‘AnimAElegy’ then, I feel that it’s a step up from ‘Samsara’, even if my observation is that the debut struck a chord with a few people, more than this album or the releases that followed. Even so, when it comes to song writing, production and also lyric writing, I’m more than happy with ‘AnimAElegy’. Aside of ‘Desert Songs’ - which apparently is too long - all of my albums, E.P.s and songs are now on all streaming services, which makes me hope ‘AnimAElegy’ can burrow its way into the dark hearts of listeners a bit more that way, because I really think it deserves it.

 

2016: You release the 'Desert Songs'-E.P., building on the work of Robin Proper-Sheppard - a man who you happen to know personally - and his band The God Machine. Can you elaborate on the inspiration behind the ep?

 I wouldn’t say I was building on Robin and his previous band’s work necessarily with this E.P. The God Machine are, as you know, a big influence of mine, but I’ve only borrowed that title, because when I was writing the songs, they evoked a desert like atmosphere in me. My mother, who is by no means a fan, observed a couple of times that I ‘write cinematic music’ and when it comes to ‘Desert Songs’ in particular, I do agree with that assessment. While I was composing, I kept envisioning scenes of big sand dunes, red evening skies with a sun setting on a horizon trembling from the heat, caravans ploughing through the sands, trying to reach an oasis and nightly desert skies lit up by stars and planets.

On the other hand, I was living through that burn out you just mentioned at the time. How I felt back then was described perfectly in the title track of prog metal band Queensrÿche’s fifth album, ‘Promised Land’: ‘Life’s been like dragging feet through sand and never finding a Promised Land’. Queensrÿche may at first glance not be a band you’d listen to as a goth (even if ‘The Mission’ and ‘Suite Sister Mary’ on ‘Operation:Mindcrime’ are early examples of what later would become ‘gothic metal’), but this album has a very dark and sullen vibe. It’s more Pink Floyd than heavy metal, but that makes the album all the better to me, and the title track is really very dark and depressing. Everything being described in it could have come from my own life back then, so that came to mind when I was working on ‘Desert Songs’. Thanks to the image of someone ploughing through sand and not getting anywhere, I got the idea to use that title and write lyrics in the same vein, which was surprisingly easy. I feel they are among my best lyrics, if not my best. The book ‘What Dreams May Come’ was also a source of inspiration. I remain convinced it also was the main inspiration behind Carl McCoy’s lyrics on the Fields of the Nephilim album ‘Elizium’. I had just reread the book and was riffing on the concept of the ‘Summerland’, the dimension in between death and the next reincarnation, so that’s part of it as well.

 

2016: With ‘Desert Songs’ you also announce a temporary hiatus to Ahráyeph. You want to concentrate on your metal project, Trans World Tribe, with singer Staci Heaton. The band releases an E.P. and a single in 2016, but fades into obscurity thereafter. What happened?

In short: just like Ness, Staci decided to give priority to her career. She works for the Californian government, where she is part of the environmental and agrarian department. She’s also married (her husband Brian recently co-authored the very first biography on the aforementioned Queensrÿche) and is raising a daughter. That all these things take precedence over a music project is something I completely understand. On the other hand, she’s a very talented singer and it’s a pity I can also no longer work with her. But Trans World Tribe isn’t dead, just hibernating. I don’t yet know when or how, but there will be a follow up. I still have plenty of demos and song ideas lying around to work with, so there’s no shortage of material for the future.

 

2018: You release the ‘Heavy like the ancient sun’ album, an homage to your deceased friend James Blaast!™. What was your motivation behind that?

James was, without exaggeration, my best friend. Our friendship was completely mutual, something I can’t say of many other people. It’s hard to explain why our friendship was so special… It just clicked from the first moment we met. It was as if we’d known each other our entire lives. That in itself wasn’t obvious, because as everyone who knew him can attest to, James wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with. He was very outspoken and didn’t mince words to the point where if his words had actually been meat, he could provide the whole of Scotland with prime, unminced beef for years. He also had no issues writing off people when he was done with them for whichever reason. Even I butted heads with him a few times because he crossed the line. But contrary to where he’d stick to his guns with other people, he’d always make the effort to make amends and respect my boundaries. He even told me so in no uncertain terms the last time this happened, and he kept that promise until the day he died. That’s the way he was. On the other hand, James was the most loyal friend a person could’ve had. He never thought twice about giving me a Facetime call and if I took too long to do so myself, I’d get a good natured ‘ERSE!’ in my mailbox, signalling it was high time for me to return the favour. Those calls turned into one- or two-hour conversations, sometimes twice that.

He also was very patient with me. If, for example, I had a bad day and kept that from him, he wouldn’t say anything about it, but, almost always successfully, tried to make me laugh, after which he subtly - yes, he could be subtle - let me know he knew something was wrong with me. The man knew how to handle raising my spirits without being intrusive. That’s real friendship. I thought I knew a lot when it came to music, but James, generous as he was in sharing his musical knowledge, taught me a lot more still. His knowledge of music was vast and his love for music even greater. It was all encompassing, especially where it concerned prog rock, goth and metal. The fact that I know Chameleons’ ‘Script Of The Bridge’ is entirely his merit, because this band wasn’t on my radar back in the 80’s.

He also was a graphic designer, something I later became too, in part due to the things I learned from him. I owe my diploma in part to him. He also managed to pass on his love for his hometown, Glasgow, to me. I love that city; I love its mentality and the people who live there and its good and bad aspects. James and I always addressed each other in ‘Weegie’, the Glaswegian accent, which I’ve since made my own, even if my command of it may have waned since I’m unable to talk to James anymore, like we did up until two days before he died. James was my brother from another mother and he and his mum Molly, who died about eighteen months after him, were fantastic people to have known. James also was Ahráyeph’s No.1 fan. It was he who bestowed the ‘prog goth’ label on Ahráyeph. He even came to Belgium to attend Ahráyeph’s very first live gig. His support was unconditional, even if he could be critical when he felt it was needed, which was also something I always appreciated. So why would I not honour his memory in a way he would have found fitting, with music?

 

2018: You release a reworked version of ‘Marooned on Samsara’ digitally. All songs were re-recorded. Were you that dissatisfied with the original recordings?

I was, actually. In the interim, my knowledge of music production had improved exponentially, and I also had better tools to implement them. I’m speaking in particular of the speakers I was using, the right studio speakers, which are different from hi fi speakers, make a huge difference. It’s something I learned empirically. All of a sudden, I didn’t have to work as hard to get a good mix, because I had a clearer sonic picture to work from. Additionally, the CD version of the album was sold out and no longer available. This made me feel it was the right time to re-record it and right a few wrongs. On top of that, I had a run in on Youtube with an American publishing company who, as part of my deal with D-Monic, had gotten their hands on the rights to my songs for the duration of the contract. I was warned I had no right to publish my own songs on the platform. Even though the rights reverted back to me after three years and I once again retained full ownership to the songs, I felt it prudent to re-record the album and re-register the songs, so I would keep the author- and publishing rights, so things like that would never happen to me again. People seldom realise it, but there’s a lot of administration involved when it comes to making music professionally, and if you’re not careful, there can be big consequences.

 

2020: You announce the ‘Heaven No. 7’-E.P. as an inbetween release to make up for the long wait for the next album. I do like it, and was especially impressed by the profound lyrics. Can you tell me how you handle writing lyrics for Ahráyeph?

Ooff, that’s a question that often gets asked, just like ‘how do you write your songs?’, and for which there is no simple answer, really. As I’ve already mentioned, my lyrics deal with my own experiences and observations. I would, however, like to write something from a different perspective down the line, even something fictional and I already have come up with a few ideas, which may even be used for Trans World Tribe, but in Ahráyeph, I mainly am addressing my own life and emotions, not least because, as I mentioned before, Ahráyeph is my outlet and therapy.

Something I do try to avoid, is to become political in my songs. I did make an exception to that rule during the repulsive Trump era and the events of January 6th. That’s how the song ‘Superspreaders’ ended up on ‘Heaven No.7’. The man is Roman emperor Nero incarnate and you can take that literally. Anyone going through the effort of checking out the Wikipedia page on that emperor can’t get around the often shocking similarities. Only, Nero didn’t have social media to spout his poison. But other than that, you shouldn’t expect any politically inspired songs from me, except if there would be a neo nazi and fascist takeover in this country and in Europe. That must be resisted by any means, even musical ones.

What’s always been really important to me where Ahráyeph’s lyrics are concerned, is that they work. I have a very allegorical and metaphorical style of writing, often laced with references to other songs, authors and metaphysics. That’s not just due to my literary and musical influences, but also to me not being good at writing ‘direct’ lyrics, in which I express myself in a more explicit manner, like, for instance, Robin Proper-Sheppard. If I write like that, it ends up in clichés and schmaltz and it ends up sounding fake. Whereas when he does it, I instantly believe what he’s singing. I once told him I consider him an impressionistic writer, both in the God Machine and in Sophia. It’s a craft and he possesses that craft, I don’t. Furthermore, I just don’t want to be a copy of anyone else. I’ve searched long and hard to find my own literary ‘voice’, another reason why that Crucifire demo makes me break out in hives of shame, because those lyrics were, for the most part, really bad, with a few nuggets here and there. The irony of it all is that, right after I finished that demo, I did start finding that unique literary voice to express myself through. It still wasn’t easy, but at least I found the right angle to express myself in my very own way.

 


2021: The ‘XXV’-E.P. is supposed to celebrate 25 years of Ahráyeph. It contains three songs, a Depeche Mode cover among them. How important was it for you to celebrate this symbolic anniversary?

A little, haha. Twenty-five years is a milestone, and it doesn’t suck to emphasise that, does it? It doesn’t really feel like twenty-five years to me and to be honest, it’s not as if I’ve had it on my mind for this entire year. It’s just that by the end of last Summer, I looked back on my career and realised it’s been twenty-five years since Jo, Peter, David, Raf, Geert and I got together in that rehearsal shack to become a band and work on songs together. That made it easy for me to couple the release of the ‘XXV’ E.P. with it. Also gave me an easy title, haha.


One constant, from the Crucifire demo to that E.P., is that I’ve always recorded cover songs. At that time, it was an English version of the song ‘Laatste Woorden’ (‘Last Words’) by Belgian band De Lama’s, retitled ‘The Hand That Feeds’, for which I wrote completely new lyrics and which I reworked as if it were a Type O Negative song, until now with Depeche Mode’s ‘Never Let Me Down Again’; because I always wanted to cover one of their songs (‘Stripped’ got discarded because I just couldn’t hear myself sing ‘Let me hear you make decisions without your television’ seriously). And since that song had a personal connotation for me, it was an obvious choice, even if I did manage to put in a few musical references to ‘Stripped’ en ‘Clean’ at the end. Funny thing : it was my cover of The Cure’s ‘A Forest’, conceived during the latter Crucifire days, which lay the foundation for what later became the ‘Ahrayeph sound’. The way I arranged it was kind of a light bulb moment which I would use to my advantage from then on, even if it has evolved over the years, because I don’t want to repeat myself.

 

2021: You release the single ‘Bloodletting’ with the promise to release a song from the next record each month. That didn’t prove feasible, but we’d love to hear about the new album you’ve been announcing for a while…

To be clear: those monthly releases were intended for the monthly ‘Bandcamp Friday’ initiative, which ran until May. But I did indeed struggle with the lyrics and was forced to postpone ‘XXV’s release, which turned out to be for the better in the long run.

As for the fourth album… It’s a bit of a tough one, because I wanted to approach it from a different angle than I usually do. I’ve got a certain concept in mind which I don’t want to disclose much about right now, but it requires me to write all of the lyrics before getting to the music. It’s not the way I work usually, even if there are plenty of Ahráyeph songs which had lyrics before I wrote the music. However, doing that for an entire album doesn’t seem to be all that straightforward, at least not to me. I’ve been struggling with it for a few years now and that’s also the reason why I’m releasing all those E.P.’s: if I’m sitting on songs that don’t fit the concept but are too good to save up for an album, I’d rather release them. Also, and I hate saying this because I love albums; but the album format is gradually losing its importance. Music these days is being - I’m this close to gagging - ‘consumed’ in a more fragmentary manner. Of course, true music lovers, who luckily still exist, will take exception to this statement because they don’t listen this way, but unfortunately, they’re the minority. That’s just the reality of it. I can’t release CD’s or vinyl albums for that minority because it would amount to a huge financial loss, not least due to the lamentable ‘renumeration’ streaming services ‘pay’ artists. It’s less than peanuts. Only Bandcamp, the platform I’m using to release my music, is treating artist fairly. Hence, it’s becomes important for artists to regularly release music and stay relevant and in the public eye, especially during a pandemic like this.

In the meantime, I’m continuing work on the album - I’m currently on hiatus due to my annual ‘hibernation period’ - but I can’t and won’t make any predictions about when it will be released at this moment. Just a few weeks ago, I think I’ve finally found the right way to open the story with and that’s been the thing I’ve been struggling with the most, because I already have several other parts written for other songs. But due to the nature of this concept, it’s essential that I start with Song One and finish with the last song, in order to keep things transparent and orderly for me. But it’s anything but simple, for me anyway, so I’d rather not say anything about it until it’s (nearly) done. But it will eventually be finished and released, that’s for certain, even if there will still be another E.P. coming soon.

Ahráyeph: bandcamp / facebook

The Dutch version of this interview first appeared on www.darkentries.be.

maandag 15 november 2021

Whispers In The Shadow: I’m not a conservative songwriter and I’m not interested in the status quo. I’m interested in progress.

Whispers In The Shadow exists for 25 years, and that should be celebrated. A new compilation is out: ‘Gilding The Lily’, which consists partly of new recordings of the best songs from the past quarter century. The band has undergone a serious evolution during that period, and you can read all about it in the conversation we had with front man Ashley Dayour. Together, we discussed the entire career of this psychedelic wave rock group, the highs and lows and the permanent search for innovation. 

Hi Ashley. We’re celebrating 25 years of Whispers In The Shadow this year. So, happy birthday. I suppose you were born out of the goth scene in Vienna. How was this scene at the time? What attracted you to it? 

Thanks a lot. Originally, I’m not from Vienna. I grew up at the countryside far from the big city so to speak - if you can call Vienna a big city. So, I wasn’t really part of any scene really. Of course, the music was influenced by the sound of guitar driven wave and goth bands but the little gothic scene we had and have in Vienna got nothing to do with it. I also must add I’m not a big club fanatic, never was. I don’t go out much and I don’t know a lot of people. So, I can’t really say much about the scene back then, and the same goes for the goth scene now. It’s small, but always has been active. And there’s a few people who really keep it alive and just don’t stop doing so, which is admirable. 


The first cassettes were released in 1996. It seems that you were Whispers In The Shadow, playing all the instrument. What should we remember from this period? Can you recall how you started Whispers In The Shadow? 

I was also playing in a band called Sanguis Et Cinis at the time but got a little frustrated how things were moving with them. I just wanted to play the music I was actually listening to. There was no place for that sound with Sanguis Et Cinis, so I decided to record something more or less on my own. The first demos were 4-track-recordings we recorded in my bedroom at my parent’s place when I was still living there. I was very young, it was more than one lifetime ago, actually. 

I wasn’t really satisfied with the first demo, but the second one was more to my liking. It was the one who got me a record deal. So within just a couple of months we had a deal and a few months later we were in a professional recording studio. We were lucky. Funnily enough only three Songs from that demo made it onto the final album. ‘Face’, ‘Rain’ and ‘Crying Eyes’, the rest were all new songs we wrote afterwards, and they sounded very different from the original Demo tape. 

I still remember the confused faces of the label executives when they came into the studio to listen to what we’ve recorded thus far. They said something like, ‘Hmm that wasn’t on the demo, wasn’t it?’. They repeated that sentence after every song, and of course I was aware of the slightly more concerned faces after each track. Within a couple of months, we changed a lot. But the record did well enough. 

On the first two albums of Whispers In The Shadow – ‘Laudanum’ from 1997 and ‘November’ from 1999 – the band grew to become a trio with Richard Lederer, known from Die Verbannten Kinder Evas, Weltenbrand and Sanguis Et Cinis; and Zebo Adam, who has rejoined the band last year and is a well-known producer in Vienna. How did they join the band then and how was is to work with those people? 

It was clear to me that I wanted to play live. Obviously, I couldn’t play all the instruments at once, and what’s the fun in touring alone? I knew Richard from Sanguis Et Cinis, so I just asked him if he wanted to be in the band. And Zebo was and still is a very close friend of mine, he’s been with the band ever since, not always as a member, but as a very close adviser and/or producer. I remember these first shows very well. Was good fun, some of them anyway, others not so much. 

The first albums were very influenced by ‘Pornography’-style The Cure. If I’m not mistake, you also had this ‘big hair’-cut that is often associated with Robert Smith. Did it bother you to be compared with The Cure? 

At the beginning it did not. Because that was what I wanted to do. Take on where The Cure left in 1982 and write songs which had that sort of space and darkness. Thing was, you have to know The Cure was pretty much out of fashion in the mid 90’s. They didn’t have the ‘God like’ status they have now. I mean, nowadays their influence can be heard in pretty much every guitar sound from every post punk band around the planet. So back then we created a sound which was totally against what people thought was cool. The same goes for the look. 

But I didn’t care much to be honest. Later on, with our third (‘A Taste Of Decay’) and especially our fourth album (‘Permanent Illusions’), when we expanded our sound and experimented more, it started to bother me a bit when the press still reduced us to that Cure-ish sound. Today I really don’t care at all. I love The Cure, they are part of my musical DNA, as is David Bowie by the way. I just don’t give a damn anymore. 

Just recently one guy called me a Peter Murphy clone. He was the first! And surprisingly so. But you see people always need to compare you to other things. I couldn’t care less. 


‘A Taste Of Decay’ saw the band expanding, and offered a more direct rock sound. How did this switch happen? 

After two albums which explored the dark wave sound in full, I just wanted to do something different. I always have been interested in changes and other perspectives. I’m not a conservative songwriter and I’m not interested in the status quo. I’m interested in progress. We wanted to be a rock band so we got us a real drummer and became a ‘real’ band. The line-up changed completely. That album has a few fantastic songs on it, like ‘Nothing Stays Forever’ which is sort of a quintessential Whisper In The Shadow song. The production wasn’t very good though. It was our first recording with a real drummer. It’s a very naïve record, and somehow that might even be sort of its strength. The new versions we did for ‘Gilding The Lily’ from two of these tracks - ‘Nothing Stays Forever’ and ‘A Taste Of Decay’ - show the actual potential. I also have to point out we really became a band at this stage with Fork on Bass and Martin ‘Acid’ Gutmann on keys, who is still in the band and who produced our last couple of records with me. 

The next album, ‘Permanent Illusions’ from 2001, is a further step forward. It offered a more psychedelic sound which earned you the title of ‘goth floyd’, and a first taste of mythological references, in this case to the legend of Pandora. You worked with the Austrian writer Thomas Havlik for the concept, didn’t you? How did this collaboration work? 

Yeah, that was the start of a difficult time and we bit too much of what we could chew. ‘Permanent Illusions’ was a very ambitious thing and only parts of it succeeded, to be honest. Thomas did write a story around some ideas I had. But the story wasn’t ready when the album came out. I think the problem was we were a bit too spaced out at the time. Nevertheless it has some great songs on it. ‘Pandoras Calling’ became a stable live favorite for quite some time. And yes you are right, our ongoing fascination with mythological themes started there. 


A long silence followed between ‘Permanent Illusion’ in 2001 and the live album ‘A Cold Night’ in 2007. You said in an earlier interview that this period almost saw the band disappear. What were the difficulties and how did you overcome them? 

‘Permanent Illusions’ didn’t do well, neither with fans nor with the press. I was frustrated. Also, the band fell apart. There were private matters which were complicating things. The typical near 30 years of age crises. We also tried different directions. But nothing really worked. We recorded a whole album and tried to get our feet on the ground again. Parts of that album were released on the compilation release ‘Borrowed Nightmares And Forgotten Dreams’. Other parts remain unreleased to this very day. How did we overcome this phase? We finally found a direction which felt right. I began to have a clearer vision of what I wanted to do. And we also got us a new record deal. Within a year or so everything fell into place again. 

The next big step must have been 2008, when you started a series of records around occult themes, a four-part cycle: ‘Into the Arms of Chaos’ in 2008, ‘The Eternal Arcane’ in 2010, ‘The Rites Of Passage’ in 2012 and ‘Beyond the Cycles of Time’ in 2014. Each album treats another alchemic state. In total, you have worked more than seven years on occult themes. The references to Austin Osman Spare and other occult writers are legion on these records. What did inspire you in their work? 

I always was fascinated with Magick and Occult themes, and I wanted to get that into the music. However, it all began with the movie The Fountain from director Darren Aronofsky. That movie changed a lot of things. Overnight, I dived deeper into the subjects of that movie. So, the changes for me were obvious. I learned about the usual subjects, Spare, Crowley, etc. and that influenced my lyrics and music. And it worked. We were back. A resurrection! We also became a five-piece around that time. With Lazy Schulz on guitar our sound became much richer, especially live. 

When I had the idea of writing 4 albums with these themes, I knew that this would be a lot of work to stay focused and explore that path to the end. After that fourth ‘occult’ album It took a couple of years to actually write songs again. Because clearly all was said and done with the that old direction. 


‘The Urgency Of Now’ in 2018 saw you taking another turn: more direct rock and more political themes. Did the reaction of the public fulfil your expectations? 

Just a few days ago, there was a review of ‘Gilding The Lily’ and the critique pointed out that ‘The Urgency Of Now’ is her favorite album. That happens a lot. When it first came out, I didn’t realize people liked it that much, or maybe it was a slow grower. We were one of the first bands of our genre who went more political. It was about time. And it certainly wasn’t expected from us. It’s a good album. Especially lyric wise. It was written pretty fast. It’s an album driven by hate but equally so by hope. I think that’s why it resonates a bit more with people. Because its themes are more universal. 

On ‘Yesterday Is Forever’, the record from 2020, the music is more diverse than ever before, in my opinion. Even though you claim not to have started from an overarching theme this time, as you did on the last six albums, I can still see a subject connecting the songs: the relation between past, present and future. Do you agree? 

Yes, you might be right. But that wasn’t planned. It was just something that happened. And I also agree that it’s our most diverse and kaleidoscopic album. I wanted to show the world and mostly myself that this band is still able to surprise and that we are not done yet. By all means I wanted to do the opposite of a nostalgic “back to the roots” record. Which is something most bands do around that point of their career. That doesn’t mean we will never ever record such a record though. I’m still very happy with that one. I consider it one of our best. By far actually. 


The new record – 'Gilding The Lily. A Retrospective' – is a compilation that was made to celebrate 25 years of Whispers In The Shadow. How difficult was it to select the right songs for the album? What criterions did you use? 

It was very difficult indeed. If you have over a hundred songs to choose from, that’s not an easy task. My idea was to have at least one and maximum three tracks from each album. Of course, there are songs we had to include: the hits, so to speak. But I also wanted to take the opportunity to dig out some deep cuts, songs that were slightly forgotten or didn’t get the attention they deserved when they first came out. 'Pillowcase' and 'Halous At Dawn' are such songs. Also, the album is designed as a live set. My idea was to get away from the usual chronological playlists of such records and make it something else. Like a real album, actually. 

You also chose to make new records of the tracks on ‘Gilding The Lily’. Sometimes you just changed the vocals, sometimes you rerecorded the whole track. Why was that? 

I wanted it to be coherent in terms of production and sound, so it was obvious we had to re-record the older songs. Also, I’m a way better singer now than I was when we started. So this was a good opportunity to set things straight. And I wanted to make it special, even with the older material. I wanted to do something new. A lot of songs are updated versions which represent the band in the here and now. Take a song like ‘Back To The Wound’ for example. My vocals now have a different attitude than on the original 10 years ago. That goes for most songs, actually. We also did a new video for ‘Back To The Wound’. It was interesting to create something visual for an almost 10-year-old song, but somehow present it like it would have been on the last album. 

Finally, when you look back upon these last 25 years… There have been a lot of changes in musical style, in content, also several line-up changes… But Whispers In The Shadow was always there. You always survived. What has made the longevity of the band, and what is the one thing that the output of the band has in common, that defines Whispers In The Shadow? 

As long as I exist this band will most likely survive. It really is that simple. Of course, I have played with thoughts to call it a day from time to time, but then I think again and realize it’s stupid. I mean, if I would break up the band, we would be back in a couple of years anyway and honestly, I really don’t want to become one of these bands you know. We are way too honest for that. 

Musically I think my voice is what defines the band. That’s what makes it Whispers In The Shadow. With all its pro and cons that is. I’m aware that I’m not a spot-on singer. But it is my voice, it got better and it is the one constant. And spiritual wise I would say our consistency is to do what we think is best. We were not always right, by far not. But that was never the point. Create music I’d like to hear and maybe surprise me and our audience from time to time. 

In the end it comes down to that. That’s why we are still here. That and that feeling when you just played a really good concert. Which is about time again. There are some very interesting shows planed for 2022. Fingers crossed they will finally happen.

Whispers In The Shadow: website / bandcamp / facebook




vrijdag 22 oktober 2021

Winterstille: There are two contradicting aspects of individualism: the promise that you can achieve anything and the blaming of the individual for not achieving it.

‘Puin van dromen’ (Ruins of dreams), the debut of Winterstille, was released at the end of October 2020, The record offers a mixture of folk, chanson and gothic. Winterstille will present their CD on 12 November in the De Krop in Kampenhout, and they will open the Porta Nigra Autumn Passage on 13 November in Aarschot. Reason enough to dig deeper into the backgrounds of the various songs on ‘Puin van dromen’. By the way, Winterstille consists of two of your servants at Dark Entries: Xavier Kruth on vocals and Gerry Croon who wrote the arrangements. 

Drink nog een glas (Drink One More Glass) 

A drinking song, albeit of a rather melancholic nature. A man goes to the bar, drinks a few beers, talks to strangers, and returns to his house drunk and still lonely afterwards. Alcohol helped to make his life a little easier, if only for a short time. 

If I Would Only Know 

This song is based on the book ‘Die Leiden des jungen Werthers’ by Goethe. It really just covers the story line, and some sentences are even directly taken from the book. A young man is desperately in love with a girl he cannot get, writes about it to a friend and ends up committing suicide. ‘It’s not just me. All people see their dreams vanish, see their hopes crushed, to the ground.’ 

Boze wolven (Big Bad Wolves) 

The big bad wolves in the text are just a metaphor for our daily fears: being lonely, getting old, meeting other people, reactions on Facebook... and perhaps also the fear of loving someone without restraint. So... don't be afraid of the big bad wolves. Gert Kleinpunk made a beautiful homemade video for the song. 


Sans rien dire (Without saying anything) 

I was too ambitious for this song. I first wanted to write a requiem for the revolution, then a lullaby for the working class. It finally became a lullaby for a small child, something that has no deeper meaning (hence the title: without saying anything). The adult who calls the child to sleep actually tells her that her dreams will always be more beautiful than reality, so sleep well and make beautiful dreams… Some parts of the text are the adults speaking, other parts are the child dreaming. 

Partizanen van de volle maan (Partisans of the full moon) 

I wrote this song after watching the movie 'Hair', a musical that tells the story of hippies who refused to take part in the Vietnam War. The song is about a hippie commune and the way they don't want to participate in the real world, with its wars, hatred and bigotry. They prefer to live in their dreams. (The title is a reference to the song of the same title by the Russian band Akvarium.) 

The Shores of Normandy 

The shores of Normandy is a song about the landing in Normandy in 1944 from the perspective of one of the Allied soldiers who took part. I had read a very interesting article about the invasion and saw it as an opportunity to write a text about it. It is also influenced by Eric Boggle's famous anti-war songs, such as "Green Fields Of France" and "The Band Played Waltzing Mathilda", which is why you can hear Irish and Scottish patterns in the music. 

Eric Boggle's songs sing about the First World War, which is easier to classify as a total waste of young life in the name of a fanatical elite. The subject of the Second World War is more ambiguous, as I believe that it was right to fight against the Nazis. But since I didn't want my song to be a glorification of war, I decided that the protagonist of the song should die on the beach, as a reminder that war is always a terrible thing that wretches millions of lives. The orchestrations of Gerry work out great on this song, and we have also included some authentic sound excerpts from the landing in Normandy. 

Und sie tanzten (And They Danced) 

Gerry wrote the music to this piece already in 2004. Thus, it is the oldest song on 'Puin van dromen' (Rubble of Dreams) and is off course very influenced by the early work of Lacrimosa, and to a lesser intent by bands as Goethes Erben and Sopor Aeternus. Gerry asked me if I could write a text in German for the piece. I decided to delve deeper into the meaning of the song, which is a tribute to the goth scene of the nineties. When I was in Waregem to attend the W-Festival in 2019 – one of the great wave festivals in Belgium – I happened to stroll past the Steeple, a great place where many Gothic parties and concerts used to take place. It is now replaced by apartments. That was the basic idea for the song: someone remembers the big parties that are no longer part of his life. The song contains references to Lacrimosa and Goethes Erben, and even to some obscure songs of the former DDR. As we got nice feedback to this song, we decided to make a video about it. We recorded it on an old brickyard in Boom, as in the Saint Stephanus Church in Nederokkerzeel, where an old Wauters organ from the beginning of the 18th century has a prominent place. 


Vrij zinnig lied (Free Thinking Song) 

It started out as a reply to a friend of mine who wrote in an article that the free human will doesn’t exist, something that I vehemently disagreed with. The song turned out to be a deeper reflection on individualism. In the first part of the song, the protagonists claims that they can become whatever they want in their life, that they can make all their dreams come true. In the second part of the song, they are confronted with the fact that they didn’t reach their goals, and that they as individuals are entirely to blame for this. These are two contradicting aspects of individualism: the promise that you can achieve anything and the blaming of the individual for not achieving it. At the same time, the song is still an individualist call to never conform to the masses. 

Egmont Park 

I wrote this song after watching a TV show about Charles Aznavour. I am strongly influenced by French chanson and singers like Aznavour, Yves Duteil and Renaud. In this program, Aznavour sang his song ‘Comme ils disent’, which was praised in the 1970s for breaking the taboo around homosexuality. But I saw it as a story about loneliness in the big city. My solitude song is about an old woman who goes to the park – I thought it would be nice to refer to the beautiful Egmont Park in Brussels – and talks to strangers about her life and – perhaps more important – dreams. ‘But who cares if they’re true or not, these dreams are all I have ever got.’ 

Als ik mijn leven overschouw (When I Look Back Upon My life) 

A very existential song about someone who looks back on his life and realizes that his dreams did not come true. He comforts himself in the idea that one day his life will come to an end. Great orchestrations by Gerry make this song a highlight on the disc.

Winterstille: website / bandcamp / facebook

12/11/2021: CD-presentation 'Puin van dromen', zaal De Krop, Kampenhout, 20u

13/11/2021: Porta Nigra festival, De Klinker Aarschot, 16u

Pictures: Luc Luyten

maandag 27 september 2021

The Ultimate Dreamers: Dimitri from Wool-E Discs had learned that I was part of a band in the 80s and asked me to listen.

The 80s haven't released all their secrets yet. Take The Ultimate Dreamers. They played on the stages of Lessines and surroundings from 1986 to 1990, but they never released a record. Until now. After a dive into his archives, singer Frédéric Cotton - also known for the Fantastique.Nights concerts and the Club New Wave parties in Brussels - found enough songs to release a record, and it is published by Wool-E Discs and Dans Les Profondeurs. In addition, the group is being reformed and will play several concerts in the coming months, starting with the release concert at the CaliClub in Drogenbos on October 2nd. 

Hi Frédéric. The Ultimate Dreamers come from Lessines, the city of surrealists René Magritte and Louis Scutenaire. Can you describe the atmosphere that reigned in Lessines in the mid-1980s, and in particular the access you had to music and especially new wave? 

Hi Xavier! Lessines was a small provincial town where there wasn't much going on. Musically, it was pretty deserted, and we were just a small group of friends interested in underground music. There was only one record store and although the owner did what he could, we preferred to go to Brussels or Ghent to buy records or see concerts. Inevitably, dressed in black and with a weird look, we were seen as unapproachable by some small local minds. A classic story, I guess. 

It is in this context that The Ultimate Dreamers was born. How did the group come together? 

We were still in high school when we created the No Position project, with Joël on drums, Laurent on bass and myself on synth and vocals. Two other guys were also playing synths. We only played two concerts and then Joël, Laurent and I, who had darker tastes, left to create The Ultimate Dreamers. 

If I understood correctly, the band started out as a more synth-focused trio and then evolved to include more guitars. Can you give us more details on this evolution? 

Indeed. At the beginning, we used a rhythm machine, synths but also a very present bass. It was a formula that offered a lot of possibilities. Then Laurent, who was a multi-instrumentalist, took over the drums and we entrusted the bass to a newcomer: Bertrand. A little later, I started playing guitar, which made us evolve towards a harder sound, a little more rock. 

I heard that you have organized your own underground festival in Lessines. How did it fare? 

That's right. As nothing was happening in Lessines, we decided to organize our little festival ourselves. We obviously made the mistakes of beginners and had the foreseeable problems with SABAM (with m as mafia), the police, the municipality, etc. There have been 3 editions of this Summer End Festival, with bands such as Designed To Die, Heaven’s Above, Courtisan Holy or Nijinsky, if I remember correctly. A few people still approach me about it sometimes. 

The Ultimate Dreamers ended in 1990. What led to the end of the band? 

Like many other bands, we didn't split up. We should rather speak of a long pause than of an end. Laurent first left us to devote himself to other projects he was leading in parallel, notably with a noisy pop group (it was the beginning of the 90's) called Mosaic Eyes, which had some success. In the process, Bertrand decided to quit for family reasons. After testing a few substitutes without success, I got a little discouraged and focused on my studies. Joël continued with many very varied projects: bands, a label and even a wrestling career! 

Now you are releasing a compilation of The Ultimate Dreamers: ‘Live Happily While Waiting For Death’. If I understand correctly, you took the time during the lockdown to browse your archives for the last remnants of the group. Is it correct? 

It's almost that. In 1990, I made a little “best of” cassette that had been lying around among my CD's, near my Hi-Fi system. A few years ago, Dimitri (from Wool-E Discs) had learned that I was part of a band and asked me to listen, but I did not follow it up. During the corona crisis, so much happened that I finally decided to digitize the tape. I posted a few snippets on facebook, with amused and interested reactions as a result, and sent them to Dimitri. He quickly suggested that I should release an album, much to my surprise. I then searched to find the original recordings ... 

How many songs did you find during your research and how did you select which songs were suitable for release on the disc? 

I found 25 tapes that I quickly digitized and listened to. It was like a trip down memory lane. I didn't count the number of songs but there must have been between 50 and 100. I did a first sorting and then Dimitri and I made a finer selection with the intervention of Bertrand and Joël. Finally, we had the cassettes digitized in a studio, then restored and mastered the selected pieces. 

In addition, you resuscitated the group. Two of the former band members join you with a newcomer to promote the record live. How did you manage to bring these people together? 

Bertrand and I still saw each other regularly and I still had contact with Joël and Laurent. Initially, we discussed the record. Then the idea for a release concert came up. Finally, we quickly found the pleasure of playing together. After a few weeks, I contacted Sarah, whose keyboards I had really enjoyed in the Brussels post-punk band The Panties. She agreed to participate. We rehearsed together and the chemistry was there. The Ultimate Dreamers were back. 

The sound of the record is very 80's. Did you update some songs to give them a more modern sound live? 

Our current repertoire is made up of our old compositions. Some are present on the record, others not, because the sound was not good enough. By recreating these pieces, they naturally evolved with a more modern sound, without it being a real purpose. But it’s the reality and it’s pretty good. 

Today, you are mostly known as the organizer of Fantastique.Nights concerts and Club New Wave parties. Was it a natural evolution to go from musician to concert organizer? 

May be. Like I said before, I started organising concerts early on. I continued when I was a student in Mons and then in Brussels. After a few calmer years, I resumed around 2000 when I joined the team of the fanzine Khimaira and the webzine LeFantastique.net (hence the name Fantastique.Nights) as a columnist and then as music manager. Concerts have always fascinated me. The parties mainly have a financial interest, which makes it possible to continue to organize concerts. 

During the pandemic, you also became a public figure as a professor and director of the ULB's medical chemistry laboratory. How did you experience this? 

We have all lived through an incredible period that has rocked the entire planet in many ways. As a health professional in academia, it has been very stressful at times but also very intense. At one point, faced with the repeated mistakes of certain ministers, I felt the need to react. I wrote an opinion piece in the newspaper Le Soir which made a lot of noise, especially on the French-speaking side, and I found myself projected onto the media scene. This is a situation that brings a lot of problems, ultimately. It’s not just Van Ranst who has attracted dangerous lunatics. Finding The Ultimate Dreamers allowed me to escape the stupidity of conspirators of all kinds (unfortunately quite numerous in the dark scene). 

If we combine your experience as an organizer and your medical expertise, you must have an opinion on the resumption of concerts and nightlife while the virus is still active. Tell us about it! 

As an organizer, I was very careful because the successive waves were predictable. Cancellations are demotivating and costly. Now, I am more confident because the general population has good protection thanks to the vaccination. But the crisis is not over. Too many people still refuse useful measures with often stupid arguments. We may still see small waves but nothing comparable to what we experienced in 2020. Temporarily, the Covid Safe Ticket or the COVID Certificate can still be very useful.

The Ultimate Dreamers

Band pictures by Xavier Marquis

Upcoming concerts:

The Ultimate Dreamers: Dimitri de Wool-E Discs avait appris que j’avais fait partie d’un groupe dans les années 80 et m’avait demandé à écouter

Les années 80 n'ont pas encore dévoilés tous leurs secrets. Prenez The Ultimate Dreamers par exemple. Ils ont joué sur les scènes de Lessines et ses environs de 1986 à 1990, mais cela n'a jamais conduit à un disque. Jusqu'à maintenant. Après une plongée dans ses archives, le chanteur Frédéric Cotton - également connu pour les concerts Fantastique.Nights et les soirées Club New Wave à Bruxelles - a trouvé suffisamment de chansons pour sortir un disque, sorti sur Wool-E Discs et Dans Les Profondeurs . De plus, le groupe se reforme pour l'occasion et donnera plusieurs concerts dans les prochains mois, à commencer par la première au CaliClub de Drogenbos le 2 octobre.

Bonjour Frédéric. The Ultimate Dreamers sont issus de Lessines, la ville des surréalistes René Magritte et Louis Scutenaire. Peux-tu me décrire l’ambiance qui régnait à Lessines au milieu des années 80, et en particulier l’accès que vous aviez à la musique et surtout la new wave ? 

Bonjour Xavier ! Lessines était une petite ville de province où il ne se passait pas grand-chose. Musicalement, c’était assez désertique et nous n’étions qu’un petit groupe d’amis à nous intéresser à la musique underground. Il n’y avait qu’un disquaire et bien qu’il fît ce qu’il pouvait, nous préférions aller à Bruxelles ou à Gand pour acheter des disques ou voir des concerts. Inévitablement, habillés en noir et avec un look bizarre, nous étions considérés comme des gens peu fréquentables par certains petits esprits locaux. Une histoire classique, je suppose. 

C’est donc dans ce contexte que The Ultimate Dreamers a vu le jour. Comment le groupe s’est formé ? 

Nous étions encore à l’école secondaire quand nous avons créé le projet No Position, avec Joël à la batterie, Laurent à la basse et moi-même au synthé et au chant. Deux autres types jouaient également du synthé. Nous n’avons joué que deux concerts puis Joël, Laurent et moi, qui avions des goûts plus dark, avons pris la tangente pour créer The Ultimate Dreamers. 

Si j’ai bien compris, le groupe a commencé en tant que trio plutôt axé sur les synthétiseurs, puis a évolué en incluant plus de guitares. Peux-tu nous donner plus de détails sur cette évolution ? 

En effet. Au départ, nous utilisions une boîte à rythme, des synthés mais aussi une basse très présente. C’était une formule qui offrait beaucoup de possibilités. Puis Laurent, qui était multiinstrumentiste, a repris la batterie et nous avons confié la basse à un nouveau venu: Bertrand. Un peu plus tard, je me suis mis à la guitare, ce qui nous a fait évoluer vers un son plus dur, un peu plus rock. 

J’ai entendu que vous avez organisé votre propre festival underground à Lessines. Comment ça s’est passé ? 

En effet. Comme il ne se passait rien à Lessines, nous avons décidé d’organiser nous-mêmes notre petit festival. Nous avons évidemment fait les erreurs de débutants et avons eu les ennuis prévisibles avec la SABAM (avec m comme mafia), la police, la commune, etc. Il y a eu 3 éditions de ce Summer End Festival, avec des groupes tels que Designed To Die, Heaven’s Above, Courtisan Holy ou Nijinsky, si je me souviens bien. Quelques personnes m’en parlent encore parfois. 

The Ultimate Dreamers s’est arrêté en 1990. Qu’est-ce qui a mené à la fin du groupe ? 

Comme d’autres groupes, nous n’avons pas splitté. Il faut plutôt parler de longue pause que de fin. Laurent nous a d’abord quittés pour se consacrer à d’autres projets qu’il menait en parallèle, notamment avec un groupe noisy pop (c’était le début des 90’s) appelé Mosaic Eyes et qui a eu un certain succès. Dans la foulée, Bertrand a décidé d’arrêter pour des raisons familiales. Après avoir testé quelques remplaçants sans succès, je me suis un peu découragé et je me suis concentré sur mes études. Joël a continué de son côté avec de nombreux projets très variés : des groupes, un label et même une carrière de catcheur ! 

Maintenant, vous sortez une compilation de The Ultimate Dreamers : ‘Live Happily While Waiting For Death’. Si j’ai bien compris, tu as pris le temps pendant le confinement pour parcourir tes archives à la recherche des derniers restants du groupe. Est-ce correct ? 

C’est presque ça. En 1990, je m’étais fait une petite cassette « best of » qui traînait depuis parmi mes CD’s, près de ma chaîne Hi-Fi. Il y a quelques années, Dimitri (de Wool-E Discs) avait appris que j’avais fait partie d’un groupe et m’avait demandé à écouter mais je n’avais pas donné suite. Pendant la crise sanitaire, il s’est passé tellement de choses que je me suis enfin décidé à digitaliser la cassette. J’ai mis quelques extraits sur Facebook, avec des réactions amusées et intéressées, et les ai envoyés à Dimitri. Il m’a très vite proposé de sortir un album, à ma grande surprise. J’ai alors fait des fouilles pour retrouver les enregistrements originaux… 

Combien de morceaux as-tu trouvés pendant tes recherches et comment as-tu sélectionné les morceaux qui étaient aptes à sortir sur le disque ? 

J’ai retrouvé 25 cassettes que j’ai rapidement digitalisées et écoutées. C’était comme un voyage dans le passé. Je n’ai pas compté le nombre de morceaux mais il doit y en avoir entre 50 et 100. J’ai fait un premier tri puis Dimitri et moi avons fait une sélection plus fine avec l’intervention de Bertrand et Joël. Enfin, on a fait digitaliser les cassettes dans un studio, puis restaurer et masteriser les morceaux retenus. 

De plus, tu as ressuscité le groupe. Deux des anciens membres du groupe te rejoignent avec une nouvelle-venue pour promouvoir le disque en live. Comment as-tu réussi à réunir ces personnes ? 

Bertrand et moi nous voyions encore régulièrement et j’avais encore des contacts avec Joël et Laurent. Initialement, on a discuté du disque. Puis l’idée d’un concert de présentation est venue. Finalement, on a vite retrouvé le plaisir de jouer ensemble. Après quelques semaines, j’ai contacté Sarah dont j’avais beaucoup aimé le jeu aux claviers dans le groupe de post-punk bruxellois Les Panties. Elle a accroché. On a répété ensemble et l’alchimie était là. The Ultimate Dreamers étaient de retour. 

Le son du disque est très années 80. Est-ce que vous avez remis à jour certains morceaux pour leur donner un son plus moderne en live ? 

Notre répertoire actuel est composé de nos anciennes compositions, certaines présentes sur le disque, d’autres pas, car le son n’était pas suffisamment bon. En recréant ces morceaux, ils ont naturellement évolué avec un son plus moderne, sans que ce soit une réelle volonté. Mais c’est la réalité et c’est plutôt bien. 

Aujourd’hui, on te connait surtout en tant qu’organisateur des concerts Fantastique.Nights et des soirées Club New Wave. Était-ce une évolution naturelle de passer de musicien à organisateur de concert ? 

Peut-être. Comme je l’ai dit précédemment, j’ai en fait commencé à organiser des concerts dès le début. J’ai continué quand j’étais étudiant à Mons puis à Bruxelles. Après quelques années calmes, j’ai repris vers 2000 quand j’ai intégré l’équipe du fanzine Khimaira et du webzine LeFantastique.net (d’où le nom de Fantastique.Nights) comme chroniqueur puis comme responsable musique. Les concerts m’ont toujours passionné. Les soirées ont surtout un intérêt financier qui permet de continuer à monter des concerts. 

Pendant la pandémie, tu es aussi devenu un personnage public en tant que professeur et directeur du laboratoire de chimie médicale de l’ULB. Comment as-tu vécu cela ? 

Nous avons tous vécu une période incroyable qui a secoué toute la planète à bien des points de vue. En tant que professionnel de la santé en milieu universitaire, ça a été très stressant par moments mais aussi très intense. A un moment, face aux erreurs répétées de certains ministres, j’ai ressenti le besoin de réagir. J’ai écrit une carte blanche dans le journal Le Soir qui a fait beaucoup de bruit, surtout côté francophone et je me suis retrouvé projeté sur la scène médiatique. C’est une situation qui apporte beaucoup de problèmes, finalement. Il n’y a pas que Van Ranst qui a attiré des fous dangereux. Retrouver The Ultimate Dreamers m’a permis d’échapper à la bêtise des complotistes en tous genres (malheureusement assez nombreux dans la scène dark). 

Si on combine ton expérience en tant qu’organisateur et ton expertise en médecine, tu dois bien avoir un avis sur la reprise des concerts et de la vie nocturne alors que le virus est toujours actif. Raconte ! 

En tant qu’organisateur, je me suis montré très prudent car les vagues successives étaient prévisibles. Les annulations sont démotivantes et coûteuses. A présent, je suis plus confiant car la population a globalement une bonne protection grâce à la vaccination. Mais la crise n’est pas terminée. Trop de gens refusent encore les mesures utiles avec des arguments souvent stupides. On risque encore de voir de petites vagues mais rien de comparable à ce qu’on a connu en 2020. Temporairement, le covid safe ticket ou le covid pass peuvent encore être très utiles.

The Ultimate Dreamers

Photos du groupe par Xavier Marquis

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