Dark Entries is an independent Belgian music webzine with a focus on dark sounds. The webzine itself is completely in Dutch and can be found at www.darkentries.be. This blog was created with the intention to have an additional online place where our editors can post their English articles.
‘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.
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.
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.
Minimal wave, or synth wave if you prefer, is doing well. Think of Zanias, Selofan, Kaelan Mikla, Lebanon Hanover, NNHMN... And let's not forget the two projects by Hélène De Thoury, both of which are among the best in this genre: the duo Minuit Machine and her solo project Hante. The first group has released two EPs during the lockdown, the solo project has just released a new record: ‘Morning Tsunami’. Hélène will also present that record live on October 2 in De Klinker in Aarschot, thanks to the organization Into The Dark. Reason enough to have a conversation with De Thoury.
Hi Hélène. We are very impressed with your new Hante record: ‘Morning Tsunami’. You described this record as your ‘most accomplished and inspired work to date’. In what sense is this work an evolution from your previous records?
Hallo! First of all thank you very much! Something happened that I can't explain when I was composing ‘Morning Tsunami’. It was as if I was really one with the music, that it was an extension of me. I had never felt this way before. I think that with everything that has happened in the past year, some deeply hidden emotions have surfaced and triggered new feelings that I had to get out. There was also the desire not to make any concessions in terms of style, production, visuals. I broke away from the pressure you have as an artist to appeal to a certain type of audience, to create dance floor hits. I've also moved away from the classic stanza/chorus construction. Most songs are built up progressively and sometimes it takes a long time before they get going. I knew it could be a risk, that people would be less moved or would not find themselves in the songs. I tested new ways of working, using new plugins, new virtual synths. I renewed my range of sounds. In the end I was rewarded for taking this risk as the reception was extraordinary!
Can you tell us more about the title 'Morning Tsunami'?
I was looking for a very personal title to accompany the album. I quickly thought of ‘Tsunami’ because it is a word that I find both very beautiful and which frightens me. It's a recurring nightmare I have. I am on a beach or in a city and a huge wave is coming in the distance. And there is no way to escape it. I've associated the word ‘morning’ with it because I often have these kind of nightmares when I return to sleep in the morning. It is a very special moment, between two worlds. This was already a very important theme on my album ‘Between Hope & Danger’: the search for those moments when it is possible to escape reality, which unfortunately always comes back to us.
All lyrics on ‘Morning Tsunami’ are yours. Don’t you feel the need to approach other people to write lyrics anymore, like you did on 'FIERCE' or with your other band Minuit Machine?
I would rather say the opposite, that sometimes I find it necessary to be able to write my own story, to express the emotions in words myself. And that's one of the reasons I created Hante. When I started composing ‘FIERCE’, it had been 2 years since Amandine and I stopped playing in Minuit Machine. I wanted to rediscover the creative inertia you have when you compose a song with several people. That's why I invited several artists to write and sing lyrics on the album. But now that we've restarted Minuit Machine, I'm happy to find this hidden, private garden of Hante and to be able to fully express myself through this project.
I really like the way you sing in both French and English. Was it something that came naturally or was it a preconceived idea? How do you determine whether a text will be in French or in English?
Strangely enough, the lyrics come to me more easily in English. I have the impression that you can convey a very strong idea with just a few words in English. While that's more complicated in French, I think. But it remains my native language and I feel the need to include it in my musical project because I want it to match me 100%. Sometimes, when I have a first impression of a text in French, I seize the opportunity and explore it to the end.
The album ‘Morning Tsunami’ was made in COVID times. Has the lockdown affected your work?
Of course! As I said, this period has stirred up a lot of emotions and that has inspired me enormously. The lockdown, the sense of helplessness, the sadness and fear that the world was plunged into… But it wasn't all negative, I have questioned myself thoroughly, like many people, and there is inevitably a before and an after in our personal developments. I also took a lot of time to be inspired, to listen to a lot of music and to discover projects that greatly influenced me in the making of the record, such as the album ‘Unreleased Tracks’ by Kas:st.
During the lockdown, you also released two EPs with Minuit Machine: ‘Don't Run From The Fire’ and ‘Basic Needs’. I have the feeling that many artists did not dare to release records during the lockdown. Why did you decide to release these records anyway?
I would say there are two reasons for this. First of all, from a financial point of view, we just had to carry on. There was no question of letting the projects bleed to death. But besides that, I realized very quickly that people – contrary to what many artists thought – wanted to listen to new music and that they were willing to support artists even more than usual. It's obviously not that easy to promote an EP or an album without combining it with a tour. But whether it was for Minuit Machine or for Hante: we felt real enthusiasm with every release and that convinced us!
Minuit Machine, in which you are accompanied by singer Amandine Stioui, has also become a cult group. Isn't it a bit schizophrenic to be active in two groups at the same time?
It's a little complicated sometimes, yes. But it is more a matter of organization. A calendar organization, of course, but also in your head, so as not to get everything mixed up and, above all, not to be influenced too much by one or the other project. I think I have managed to distinguish the two worlds. And also to accept that they can take different paths. It's not always easy, but I'm working on it!
You also have your own label Synth Religion, which releases records by Hante and Minuit Machine, as well as other artists such as Fragrance, Marble Slave, The Colder Sea and Box and the Twin. I see that you actively participate in the records of these bands, you do the production or mastering, or you participate in the compositions. How do you select the groups you work with and what determines your level of involvement?
Most of the artists I've released on the label are friends or people I've met along the way and with whom I get along on a personal, even more than a professional level. The only exception is The Colder Sea, who emailed me and I fell in love with their music! Unfortunately, we never met. The problem I have now is that I don't have much time left to work for other artists. And the more my projects grow, the less I can invest in the label. So now, production-wise, I'm focusing on my two personal projects.
With all these activities, I believe you have to make a living from your music. Can you manage that? Also and especially in the difficult months we just went through?
I can get by, yes, but with difficulty I must say. I am extremely lucky to have a community of enthusiasts who support me and who continued to buy merchandising when the concerts were all cancelled. As a result, I could continue to work, I even had to continue to produce. I hope it gets better with the return of the concerts! Because it's a vicious circle that you need: the more concerts you play, the more people notice you, the more people listen to you, the more merch you sell, the more you can play etc.
Le minimal wave, ou le minimal synth si vous préférez, fait fureur. Pensez à Zanias, Selofan, Kaelan Mikla, Lebanon Hanover, NNHMN... Et n'oublions pas les deux projets d'Hélène De Thoury, tous deux parmi les meilleurs du genre : le duo Minuit Machine et son projet solo Hante. Le premier groupe a sorti deux EPs pendant le confinement, le projet solo vient de sortir un nouveau disque : 'Morning Tsunami'. Hélène présentera également ce disque en live le 2 octobre à De Klinker à Aarschot, grâce à l'organisation Into The Dark. Raison suffisante pour avoir une conversation avec De Thoury.
Bonjour Hélène. Nous sommes fort impressionnés par ton nouveau disque de Hante : ‘Morning Tsunami’. Tu annonces ce disque comme ton disque ‘le plus accompli et inspiré à cette date’. En quel sens est-ce une évolution par rapport au reste de ton œuvre ?
Bonjour ! Tout d’abord merci beaucoup ! Il s’est passé quelque chose que je ne saurais expliquer lorsque j’ai composé « Morning Tsunami ». C’était comme si je ne faisais vraiment qu’un avec la musique, qu’elle était une extension de moi et je n’avais jamais ressenti ça à ce point. Je pense qu’avec tout ce qu’il s’est passé l’année dernière, cela a fait resurgir des émotions bien enfouies et créé des nouvelles sensations que j’ai eu besoin d’extérioriser. Il y avait aussi la volonté de ne faire aucun compromis quant au style, à la production, aux visuels. Je me suis détachée de la pression que l’on a en tant qu’artiste de plaire à un certain type de public, de créer des hits dancefloor. Je me suis aussi éloignée de la construction classique « couplets / refrains ». La plupart des tracks sont progressifs et mettent parfois du temps à démarrer. Je savais que cela pouvait être un risque et que les gens accrochent moins ou n’arrivent pas à rentrer dans les tracks. J’ai testé des nouvelles façons de travailler, en utilisant de nouveaux plugins, de nouveaux synthés virtuels. J’ai renouvelé ma gamme de sons. Au final j’ai été récompensée de cette prise de risque car l’accueil a été extraordinaire !
Tu peux nous donner un mot d’explication quant au titre ‘Morning Tsunami’ ?
Je cherchais un titre très personnel pour accompagner l’album. J’ai assez rapidement pensé au Tsunami car c’est un mot que je trouve à la fois très beau et qui me terrorise. C’est un cauchemar récurrent que je fais. Je suis sur une plage ou dans une ville et une immense vague arrive au loin et il n’y a aucune possibilité d’y échapper. J’y ai associé le mot « Morning » car je fais souvent ce genre de cauchemars quand je me rendors le matin. C’est un moment très particulier, entre deux mondes. C’était déjà un thème très important dans mon album « Between Hope & Danger » : la recherche de ces moments où il est possible de fuir la réalité, qui malheureusement finit toujours par nous rattraper.
Tous les textes sur ‘Morning Tsunami’ sont de ta main. Tu ne ressens plus le besoin de faire appel à d’autres personnes pour l’écriture des textes, comme tu l’avais fait sur ‘Fierce’ ou bien avec ton autre groupe Minuit Machine ?
Je dirais plutôt l’inverse, que le besoin est parfois d’écrire ma propre histoire, de sortir les émotions par les mots aussi. Et c’est une des raisons pour lesquelles j’ai créé Hante. Lorsque j’ai commencé à composer « FIERCE », cela faisait déjà 2 ans qu’Amandine et moi avions arrêté Minuit Machine. J’avais envie de retrouver cette inertie créative que l’on a lorsque l’on est plusieurs à composer une chanson. C’est pourquoi j’avais invité plusieurs artistes à chanter et écrire des paroles sur l’album. Mais maintenant que l’on a recommencé Minuit Machine, je suis contente de retrouver ce jardin secret qu’est Hante et pourvoir m’exprimer pleinement à travers le projet.
J’aime beaucoup le fait que tu chantes aussi bien en français qu’en anglais. Est-ce quelque chose qui est venu naturellement ou était-ce une idée préconçue ? Comment décides-tu si un texte sera en français ou en anglais ?
Les mots me viennent plus naturellement en anglais bizarrement. J’ai l’impression qu’avec peu de mots, on peut véhiculer une idée très forte. Là où en français, c’est plus compliqué je trouve. Mais cela reste ma langue natale et je ressens le besoin de l’inclure dans mon projet musical car je veux qu’il me ressemble à 100%. Parfois quand j’ai une première idée de paroles qui me vient en français, je saute sur l’occasion et je l’explore jusqu’au bout.
L’album ‘Morning Tsunami’ a été créé en période COVID. Le confinement a-t-il influencé ton travail ?
Bien sûr ! Comme je disais, cette période a fait ressortir beaucoup d’émotions et cela m’a beaucoup inspiré. L’enfermement, le sentiment d’impuissance, la tristesse et la peur dans lequel le monde a été plongé. Mais cela n’a pas été que négatif, j’ai eu une grosse remise en question comme beaucoup de gens et il y a eu forcément un avant et un après dans nos développements personnels. J’ai aussi beaucoup pris le temps d’être inspirée, d’écouter beaucoup de musique et de découvrir des projets qui m’ont énormément influencé dans la composition de l’album comme l’album « Unreleased Tracks » de Kas:st.
Pendant le confinement, tu as aussi sorti deux EPs – ‘Don’t Run From The Fire’ et ‘Basic Needs’ – avec Minuit Machine. Je sens que beaucoup d’artistes n’osent pas sortir de disques pendant le confinement. Pourquoi as-tu décidé de tout de même sortir ces disques pendant cette période ?
Je dirais qu’il y a deux raisons à cela. Tout d’abord, financièrement parlant, il fallait continuer. Il n’était pas question de laisser mourir les projets. Mais en plus, je me suis rendue très rapidement compte, qu’au contraire les gens avaient besoin d’écouter de la nouvelle musique et qu’ils étaient prêts à soutenir les artistes encore plus qu’en temps normal. Alors bien sûr, ne pas pouvoir promouvoir un EP ou un album avec une tournée derrière, ça n’est pas aussi simple. Mais que ce soit pour Minuit Machine ou pour Hante, on a senti un vrai engouement à chaque sortie et ça nous a porté !
Minuit Machine, dans lequel tu es accompagnée de la chanteuse Amandine Stioui, est aussi devenu un groupe culte. N’est-ce pas un peu schizophrène d’avoir deux groupes actifs en même temps ?
C’est parfois un peu compliqué oui ! Mais c’est plus une question d’organisation. Evidemment une organisation de calendrier mais aussi dans la tête, pour ne pas tout confondre et surtout ne pas trop me laisser influencer par un projet ou par l’autre. Je pense être arrivée à bien différencier les univers. À accepter aussi qu’ils pouvaient prendre des chemins différents. C’est pas toujours facile mais j’y travaille !
Tu as aussi ton propre label Synth Religion, qui sort les disques de Hante et Minuit Machine, mais aussi d’autres artistes comme Fragrance, Marble Slave, The Colder Sea et Box and the Twin. Je vois que tu participes activement aux disques de ces groupes, en faisant la production ou le mastering ou bien même en tant que compositrice. Comment sélectionnes-tu les groupes avec qui tu travailles et qu’est-ce qui définit ton degré d’implication ?
La plupart des artistes que j’ai sorti sur le label sont des amis ou des gens que j’ai rencontré sur la route et avec qui j’ai accroché sur le plan personnel au delà du professionnel. La seule exception est « The Colder Sea » qui m’ont envoyé un email et j’ai eu un coup de coeur musical ! On n’a jamais eu l’occasion de se rencontrer, malheureusement. Le problème que j’ai actuellement est que je n’ai plus trop le temps de travailler pour d’autres artistes. Et plus mes projets grossissent et moins je peux m’investir dans le label. Donc pour le moment, en ce qui concerne la production, je me focalise sur mes deux projets personnels.
Avec toutes ces activités, je suppose que tu dois vivre de ta musique. Y arrives-tu, surtout avec les mois pénibles que nous venons de passer en confinement ?
J’y arrive oui mais péniblement je dois dire ! J’ai extrêmement de chance d’avoir une communauté de passionnés qui me soutiennent et qui ont pris le relais via les ventes de merch quand les concerts ont tous été annulés. C’est pour cela que je ne pouvais pas arrêter de produire. J’espère qu’avec le retour des concerts, cela va aller de mieux en mieux ! Car c’est un cercle vertueux qui est nécessaire : plus tu fais de concerts, plus on te voit, plus on t’écoute, plus on achète ton merch, plus on te fait jouer etc.
Can art change the world? If you know the history of Laibach, then you also know that the answer to that question is 'yes'. Laibach undoubtedly had an important influence on the history of Yugoslavia and the Slovenian state in the 1980s. And this record - 'We Forge The Future', available on CD and vinyl - is proof of that.
On the disc, you will find a recording from 2018 that was intended to be a new performance of the controversial concert that Laibach gave on April 23, 1983 at the XII Music Biennale in Zagreb, the capital of the Croatian state. It was a turning point in Laibach's career, and the group would receive a lot of criticism as a result. But it was precisely this course of events that made Laibach legendary.
Yugoslavia
Before we look at that performance, I would like to give some historical context. After all, Yugoslavia held a special place in the cold war. After a few years of conducting himself as a fine student of Stalin, the Yugoslav leader Tito broke with the Soviet Union in 1948, and with that, in fact, with all the other Eastern Bloc countries. Tito co-founded the Movement of Non-Aligned Countries, an association of countries that did not want to take sides between the two superpowers in the Cold War.
This led to a relatively more liberal policy in Yugoslavia, although the country remained a one-party dictatorship that sent dissidents to prison. Not only as a result of liberalism, but also because of economic necessity and the isolation the country was in, Yugoslavia was very open to Western European culture. Records of many Western rock groups were thus freely available, as were Western films and other cultural products.
Slovenia, the northernmost state of Yugoslavia, was even more liberal, partly because it was more prosperous economically and partly because it operated on the periphery of the Yugoslav federation, where more was possible. Thus, in 1969, Radio Študent was born, an independent radio station resulting from student protests at the University of Ljublijana a year before. Radio Študent operated under the wings of the ZSMS, the Union of Socialist Youth of Slovenia, affiliated with the ruling communist party.
Also affiliated with the ZSMS was the ŠKUC, a cultural organization founded in 1978 that, among other things, released the Sex Pistols record in Yugoslavia, and organized exhibitions and concerts by alternative artists. But all this also arose at a time of increased authoritarianism as a result of nationalist aspirations of young people in the federal states (especially after the Croatian Spring). The ZSMS increasingly became the mouthpiece of the disatisfied Slovenian youth.
This is the context in which Laibach came to the fore in 1980. Laibach's first event, a few months after its founding, was immediately banned after the group pasted lurid posters in their hometown Trbovlje. It took until 1982 before Laibach could perform for the first time in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. This too was not without a struggle, because the name Laibach was the German-language name of Ljubljana, a name that evoked memories of the Nazi occupation and the colonialism of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
The performance 'Mi kujemo bodočnost' - We Forge The Future - took place in April 1983 in Zagreb, the capital of the Croatian state. Here too, Laibach already had a bad reputation. After a performance by Laibach at the 1982 Yu-Rock festival in Zagreb, the group was questioned by the military police for using real military smoke bombs as visual effect during the show, causing considerable difficulties for musicians and audience.
Ten days after this concert, singer Tomaž Hostnik committed suicide by hanging himself on a kozolec, a kind of drying structure for hay that is sometimes seen as a national symbol of Slovenia. The group condemned the act and posthumously fired Hostnik from Laibach. Still, Laibach would regularly pay tribute to Hostnik in the future, as we'll see later.
Also in Zagreb, an exhibition of Laibach Kunst – Laibach's visual arm – was banned after a few days because of the shocking images. But the biggest scandal was the performance at the Zagreb Music Biennale. This festival was highly regarded because - as the conditions in Yugoslavia allowed - it invited both Western and Eastern musicians. The festival was mainly based on contemporary composers, but in 1983 the organizers decided to schedule two evenings with avant-garde rock groups.
Music Biennale
However great the freedoms in Yugoslavia were in comparison to other communist regimes, Laibach managed to cross the lines. The problem was not so much the inscrutable industrial music, and the uniforms and visual references to fascism might also have been possible. It was the projected videos that went too far.
As the festival represented high-quality culture, Laibach decided to turn it into a multimedia show with 10 different screens. On it, they showed their experimental film 'Morte ai s'ciavi' (Death to the slav[e]s). The group also showed the agitprop film 'Revolucija še traja' (The revolution is still going on), a documentary retracing the history of Yugoslavia since the Second World War, simultaneously with a porn video.
When at a certain moment a speech by Tito coincided with images of a penis, the organizers broke loose, because the images were undoubtedly also seen by the police informants in the room. Since there are different versions on the internet about the events that night, we decided to ask for the experiences of someone who was definitely there that night, namely Laibach chief ideologist Ivan Novak:
‘The whole event for the Music Biennale with Laibach, Last Few Days and 23 Skidoo started at 24:00. Last Few Days was the first group to play, and it went through well. Laibach was second, around 2am, and we managed to play the show from beginning to end also. But because of our show, and especially the film projections, the police and later even the military arrived soon and they interrupted the concert of 23 Skidoo.
As far as I remember they were not even allowed to go on stage. We decided to go on nevertheless. The three bands took the stage and we would jam together as long as they didn’t pull us off by force, which eventually happened around 4 AM or even later, when the electricity was turned off and the audience had to leave the venue as well.
There were about 1000 people in the room, maybe more. I believe they were astonished from the whole show and to certain extend also entertained by the entire circus that happened when police arrived.’
Someone who wasn’t able to enjoy the show was organizer Igor Kuljerić. He is said to have suffered a nervous breakdown as a result of the performance and fled to the Croatian island of Silba to seek peace and avoid legal prosecution. Thanks to the intervention of a number of high-ranking party members – including Ivo Vuljević, then director of the Vatroslav Lisinski concert hall – the consequences for the festival were fortunately limited. Still, the Croatian government would protest to their Slovenian counterparts about the concert.
Panic in Slovenia
Three weeks after the performance, Laibach published its manifesto - Action in the name of an idea - in Nova revija, a literary magazine from Slovenia (which had announced at its inception that its goal would not be action in the name of an idea). In reality, the text was already written in 1982 with the input of Tomaž Hostnik, among others.
A few quotes:
Laibach works as a team, according to the model of industrial production and totalitarianism, which means that it is not the individual who speaks, the organization does.
The name Laibach is a suggestion of the actual possibility of establishing a politicized ideological (regime) art because of the influence of politics and ideology.
All art is subject to political manipulation, except the art which speaks the language of this same manipulation.
Laibach practices provocation on the revolted state of the alienated consciousness (which must necessarily find itself an enemy) and unites warriors and opponents into an expression of a static totalitarian scream.
Laibach thus adopts the ideological goals of the Yugoslav regime, in what is sometimes referred to as 'over-identification' or 'over-affirmation'. Laibach poses as the biggest fans of the Yugoslav system, but in doing so also undermine the system, by letting their identification go together with a lot of references to Nazism and by pushing their totalitarianism to a point where it becomes absurd.
Television star Jure Pengov thought it was time to teach the band a lesson. He interviewed Laibach in his TV Tednik program, which was broadcasted immediately after the television news. In the interview, we can see Laibach in military uniforms, looking straight ahead, with totalitarian posters behind them (recorded in the ŠKUC gallery, the gathering place of underground Ljubljana that operated under the auspices of the communist youth league).
The interview refers to the scandalous performance in Zagreb, and to the reaction of the organizers who claim that Laibach promised to refrain from provocations and did not keep that promise. Apart from that, Laibach just continues to play its totalitarian parody:
‘Happiness consists in the complete suspension of one's own human identity, in consciously giving up one's personal taste, conviction, judgment, in voluntary depersonalization and the ability for self-sacrifice, identification with a higher, superior system - with the multitude, collective, ideology.’
Laibach also repeats the statement ‘Art is a sublime mission that requires fanaticism’ several times, including when they are reminded of the suicide of their former singer. This is a quote from Hitler that is included - of course without citing the source - in their discourse, just as Laibach often incorporates references to all kinds of political or artistic figures in its works.
At the end of the interview, Jure Pengov, the interviewer, rhetorically asks whether someone will finally act against these dangerous ideas and expressions. The answer came quickly. On June 29, 1983, the municipality of Ljubljana announced a ban on the use of the name ‘Laibach’. Performing under this name is therefore no longer possible, and Laibach is de facto banned in Slovenia.
We Forge The Future
Now let's look at the new record. This is a new performance of the concert at the Zagreb Music Biennale in 1983. It was part of the exhibition ‘NSK. From Kapital To Capital’ about Laibach and the NSK (Neue Slovenische Kunst: an art movement that united Laibach with other art collectives and which again included a reference to fascism, namely to the Junge Slovenische Kunst under the Nazis) at the Reina Sofia Museum in Spain.
The exhibition was opened by the Spanish King Felipe VI and the ex-Communist Slovenian President Borut Pahor, a sign that Laibach is now recognized in the highest political circles. The booklet with the record also contains an interview with Ivo Josipović, ex-president of Croatia and assistant at the Biennale at the time (later also director). He emphasizes that Laibach's performance was 'not a great artistic achievement', although he does think it should be legal as an expression of artistic freedom.
With a Laibach disc, the layout is always important. The cover shows the group in front of a painting that reminds one of Picasso's Guernica, the masterpiece referring to the bombing of a Spanish city during the Spanish Civil War and which is the main work of the Reina Sofia Museum. But anyone who studies the painting will notice that it is not the Guernica… Laibach has made a Slovenian Guernica, in which it incorporated drawings by Nikolaj Pirnat – a Slovenian partisan during the Second World War.
By the way, on the cover of the booklet you will find Tito with his partisans, although the heads of the partisans were replaced by early members of Laibach like Tomaž Hostnik, Dejan Knez, Milan Fras ... The title is 'The Revolution Is Still Going On', which is of course a reference to the documentary that Laibach played at the Biennale. In the booklet you will find images from the film and from the simultaneously played porn film.
Musically the record most resembles the 'Revisited' box that was released last year, and more specifically the third CD from that box: 'Underground'. That record was also a new performance of the concerts of the early days of Laibach concerts by some of the original members of the group. On 'We Forge The Future', you can hear the current band members, but the records are very similar in terms of sound and setlist.
Those who like to hear how the group sounded originally in these early years, can look for the record ‘Ljubljana-Zagreb–Beograd’. This now hard to find record contains performances from the time when Tomaž Hostnik still sang. I have to say that the sound on this old record is very different from the new ones: it is messier and rougher, but it is an important time document. Anyone who wants to go for a pleasant listening experience will prefer this 'We Forge The Future', which is simply recorded in better conditions and with better musicians.
Legalization
How did Laibach fare after the ban on their name? Initially, the group turned its attention to the international level. They did several European tours and even moved to London. But they would challenge the Slovenian government again by performing an anonymous concert in Ljubljana in late December 1984, exactly two years after Tomaž Hostnik's suicide. The poster only saw a black cross - the symbol of Laibach that the group members also wore on their bracelets - and the location of the concert.
In 1985 the same tactic was used to release Laibach's first album. Here too, we see only a black cross before which a body turns as if it were being crucified. In this way, the use of the name – which was prohibited – was avoided. The record was released by ŠKUC , the cultural youth organization associated with the communist youth league ZSMS. ŠKUC has actually supported Laibach from the very beginning.
The pressure to legalize Laibach increased. The ZSMS had strongly condemned Laibach's first prohibited action in 1980, but in the following years was heavily influenced by the emerging new social movements: punk, LGBT movement, environmental movement, peace movement ... In 1986, the ZSMS openly advocates legalizing Laibach.
In 1986 also, Laibach released its second album 'Nova Akropola' on the British Cherry Red Records, a sign that the band managed to score internationally. On February 17, 1987, Laibach is legalized and can finally perform openly again in Ljubljana, which is celebrated with a Yugoslav tour. A few days later, 'Opus Dei' is released on Mute in the UK and confirms the group's international breakthrough with hits such as 'Geburt Einer Nation' (a cover of Queen's 'One Vision') and 'Opus Dei' ('Life is Life' by Opus).
Yet Laibach still manages to torment the government. Every year in Yugoslavia, Youth Day was celebrated on the day of Tito's birthday. Every year a different republic was responsible for the event, which was preceded by a tour with a torch held by youngsters that ran through the different states of the federation and ended with a large-scale sporting event in Belgrade.
In 1987, Slovenia was responsible for the Youth Day, but the ZSMS had become very committed in its fight against Yugoslav centralism and lacking pluralism. It strongly criticized the Youth Day, even suggesting that the entire event should be abolished. It ordered a poster for the Youth Day from Novi kolektivizem (new collectivism), a designer collective associated with the Neue Slovenische Kunst, in which Laibach played a very active role.
The poster showed a muscular young man in front of a Yugoslav flag and with a number of other typical Yugoslav symbols. The image seemed to reflect the social realism that hard-line communists loved, and was thus approved by the central committee in Belgrade. But they soon found out… that the poster was a reworking of a 1936 Nazi poster by Richard Klein. The Nazi flag and symbols had been replaced by Yugoslav and communist symbols.
Of course, a huge scandal broke out, which shook the whole of Yugoslavia. Worst of all, the ZSMS just kept supporting Laibach. They even wanted to print the poster on the front page of their magazine Mladina, but that was forbidden by the government. So they put the poster on their fold-out center page and replaced the front page with an article about the poster scandal.
Independence
Mladina plays an important role in the Slovenian independence efforts. In 1988 there was a major lawsuit against the magazine for allegedly releasing military information. One of the defendants was Janez Janša. At Mladina, Janša specialized in the army, which was generally regarded as the enemy of Slovenian progressives (among other things because young people often had to do their military service in other republics and therefore in a different language).
Public opinion fully supported the defendants, forcing Slovenian President Milan Kučan to take the lead in the constituent republic's quest for independence. Janez Janša became increasingly anti-communist and has become the right-wing populist first minister of Slovenia today. (In 2012, Novi kolektivizem would also launch a poster campaign against austerity measures by the then Janša government.)
Laibach was of course there to worsen everything when they proclaimed on their ten-year anniversary in 1990: 'Ten years of Laibach, ten years of Slovenian independence'. It led some to blame Laibach when war broke out in 1991 after Slovenia's declaration of independence.
Laibach connoisseur Alexei Monroe argues for just the opposite. It was impossible for true radicals in Slovenia to be even more radical than Laibach, which mitigated their fanaticism. In that sense, Laibach would have ensured that the bloodshed was kept to a minimum.
Be that as it may, I hope to have shown with this article that Laibach had a real impact on the political developments in Slovenia in the 1980s. Conversely, I hope that it is clear that Laibach is a typical product of the Yugoslav system, and did not just arose in a vacuum. Art can indeed change the world, and Laibach is proof of it!
The Imaginary Suitcase - Laurent Leemans' solo project - has released another new epic: "The gods gave you victory today only to make your final defeat more bitter". That is a mouthful and also a very pessimistic quote (from a Roman general after a lost battle against the Celts), two characteristics that we can also apply to the new record. We invited Leemans to explain more about the record and every song on the record, and we weren't really surprised that he had a lot to say again ...
The gods gave you victory today only to make your final defeat more bitter
I know, I know, for those who follow me from the beginning, three years to make an album is a geological era ... The answer to the questions why is usually in the songs, but in short we can say that 2018, 2019 and 2020 were years in which I came across many things that were difficult to manage, many events that forced me to question everything that had structured my life until this date.
Obviously, if you have to look for a common thread in this album, it’s this: at some point in your life, life shows you through A plus B that almost everything you learned, almost everything that seemed obvious to you, almost everything your parents, school, society, laws, your culture taught you is false, or at least not as clear, more ambiguous, double-edged than you thought. When that moment comes, you are faced with a choice: take this revelation head-on and reinvent yourself, and yes, it means going through tough times, experiencing discomfort, even pain, but you can hope to finally become a free person… or ignore it, carry on as before by lying to yourself, and keep some comfort there, but at the expense of your soul and your dignity.
It won't surprise anyone if I say that I obsessively listened to 16 Horsepower and Wovenhand while making this album ... Even though I don't share the faith of David Eugene Edwards, I admire and respect him as a musician as well as a man, for his faith is anything but hypocritical, and he has nothing in common with these hypocritical bastards who open their mouths only to condemn, curse, insult, humiliate, and threaten in the name of Christ.
1. Hey stranger
You meet your soul mate, and for the first time in your life you are sure that you have found the person you will grow old with, you have no doubt that she is the one who will prove this quote from Seneca: "a friend is a soul in two bodies". But soon the outside world decides it's not right, the voices of ancestors who lived in resentment and couldn't tolerate your escaping it begin to whisper in your ear. And you unconsciously begin to sabotage what is most precious, you defile yourself what you have promised to cherish yourself. Until the day when ...
2. My garden
Watch out for dormant water, never forget that calm is just a break between two storms, never believe the secrets will never be revealed, and don't imagine getting out of it without bruises.
3. Father
My father was an old-fashioned man, he conveyed to me the values of righteousness, fair work, and respect for all. I love my dad, and he was right. He just forgot to teach me that the rest of the world doesn't respect these values. He was a wonderful man, gifted in everything he did, but I lived in his shadow for too long, convinced that I would never reach half his level.
4. Pigeons playing chess
A slightly lighter song. In French, we say that arguing with an idiot is like playing chess against a pigeon: regardless of your level, the pigeon will just knock over the pieces, shit on the chessboard, and prance proudly as if it won the game. I admit that I have spent a lot of time in sterile, dumb, senseless, impactless, clueless discussions on social networks. And even today it happens to me to relapse (lol). So, this is dedicated to all of Facebook's fighting cocks, as well as all the activists who are more in love with the fight than their cause.
5. Hope is a sick joke
A song for men. Please admit it: It's been more or less 4,000 years since we've been the kings, the princes, the popes, the bankers, the bosses, the philosophers, the directors, the presidents, the generals, you name it. And what legacy do we leave behind? With what have we filled the history books? Wars, murder, famine, torture, mutilations, genocides, massacres, and monuments elevated to the vanity of those we have considered demigods. The word of the victims is being released everywhere and this is the best that could have happened to us. Since I have a very high idea of men, I believe we are and can be much better than what we have shown so far. But before that, we must first admit that our entire education is manipulative, unhealthy and is aimed at making us, not men, but good little soldiers ready to fight someone else's war.
6. Complice
I don't often write in French, even though it is my native language. But since this album is stripping like I've never done before, it seemed appropriate. For most of my life, I have behaved the way I thought they wanted me to behave. And this is a scam.
7. OK Boomer
There is a generation that clings to its privileges with all its might, who would rather see the whole world burn instead of giving up a crumb of its comfort, its privileges, or question its ideology. This generation is losing ground and feels that its time is up. I like Millennials and GenZs. They will no longer be satisfied with a decent place in the system, but claim that the system is rotten and unrecoverable, and they no longer want it. The current backlash of sexism, racism, white supremacy and capitalism is scary as hell, but it is the Von Runstedt offensive of an old world dying out: a desperate attempt - I hope anyway - doomed to fail.
8. The greatest love
All the songs on this album were composed in 2019 and 2020. Except this one, which dates back to 2015, when I had a really big, totally hopeless crush on a girl. I hadn't included it on the previous albums because I thought it was not in line with them in terms of sound. But here, on an album entirely devoted to torment, to loss, to the impossibility to love, if I hadn't recorded it, where?
9. No questions asked
In relationships there is (too) often a dominant and a dominated one. And more often than you might think, the ostensibly dominated is actually the real master of the game. Skillfully used, the appearance of weakness can be the nuclear weapon of manipulation.
10. Coming home
I come from a family where a merciless omerta reigned. It was impossible to talk about one’s emotions, fears and grief or to ask questions. We clenched our teeth and kept up appearances, even if it was Pompeii in our heart. I have never been able to express my emotions, except through the songs I listened to or composed, my only valve for a long time. I have a lot of work still to do with this family legacy, and I will be human, but also ruthless with them. 'Families, I hate you', said André Gide ...
11. Anachie Gordon
A Scottish Traditional About Forced Marriage. Every year about 15 million girls get married against their will and, contrary to what one might think, this barbaric practice is not at all reserved for the Third World. This horror must stop. My oldest daughter Daria sings with me. She's fantastic, and she's going to be a great singer. I love her and I am so proud of her.
12. The bungler
The saboteur syndrome, I know it well. Too damn well. It has soiled all my pleasures, all my joys, it has managed to spoil almost all my projects, it whispered in my ear for 45 years that I was nothing, that I was useless, that I would not reach nowhere. But it is over. I'm smashing it’s face with a brick and it feels great.
13. Sex & drugs & rock & roll
This may be true for famous musicians, but as for me, I have not known this situation where I only have to choose from clusters of girls who were ready to jump on me after a concert. Sadly enough. (lol). This is a satire that can be linked to this quote from Pete Townshend "I learned guitar because with a face like mine it was the only way to pick up girls". This widespread idea that artists are superior beings, made of a more precious metal, angers and revolts me. We artists are in no way superior to a baker, an accountant or an unemployed person. We're shit and angels just like everyone else, and when we're shit, the reverence, indulgence, and impunity we enjoy often makes us monstrous shit.
14. Whiskey
This album is very dense, heavy, intense and I made no effort to make it comfortable to listen to. But I had remorse to leave you on a complete "low down bummer". So I wrote "whiskey" as a funny and slightly uplifting ending, nevertheless consistent with the rest of the album.
