Laibach

THIS live album was recorded in 1985 and is a momentous reissue of Laibach's original vinyl equivalent. The cover is grey on black and features a drawing of a stag, a theme the Slovenian band has been developing since its amazing 'Life Is Life' period. Those who were quick enough to pre-order this CD prior to its release, also managed to procure a special 'Neu Konservatiw' T-shirt, limited to just 100 copies and now long sold out.

As their most loyal fans already know, Laibach is not simply about music - it's a way of life. The group has its own semi-mythical homeland, NSK, complete with passports and known as 'the Slovenia of Athens'. It also likes to disseminate written propaganda and spread its ideas by way of artistic symbolism. The music is always dramatic, the imagery totalitarian. It's an assertion of Slovene identity in the face of what was at that time an increasing Yugoslav nationalism. It's also a reconciliation of the Germanic to the Slovene, and vice versa. This CD comes with a series of previously unpublished photographs and a new Laibach text, entitled 'Neu Konservatiw: The Return of a Myth'. According to the group themselves, the performance on this album is taken from a period 'so distant now as to be mythical - a time of obscure, half-remembered archetypes. By the time Laibach arrived in Hamburg for this concert it had become a machine generating myths, rumours, fears and auto-disinformation'. And this is precisely what Laibach has always been good at. Their performances have always led to confusion and misinterpretation, leaving a trail of speculation about their alleged neo-fascist and dictatorial sympathies.

This 10-page text, however, seeks to define what Laibach really believes about these and other controversial issues. They explain the way in which Laibach have managed to transcend the useless sterility of the mass pop industry by creating a mystique around themselves; how well-distributed posters and graffitti always preceded their arrival in cities and towns; and why they released bootlegs and 'semi-legal recordings' in order to subvert established business practices and create a demand for rare underground material at the same time. Laibach's analysis of an 'Occupied Europe' throughout which there is a proliferation of 'unprocessed myths and traumas distorting present reality', predates similar interpretations (as formulated in 'The Matrix', for example) by almost twenty years. The group uses harsh sound and heightened imagery to create a fanatical blend of - amongst other things - Communist and National-Socialist iconography. Their concerts are designed to subject audiences to forms of audio-visual experimentation and both gauge and manipulate the effects. But Laibach tend to use recorded crowd noise to stimulate a reaction among their audiences, so therefore unless you happen to be present it can be rather difficult to assess the results purely by listening to a live album.

'Vier Personen' is a multi-faceted amble through discordant pathways, but less aggressive than a lot of their material. Three minutes later the slow Industrial beat is exacerbated by a loud bass guitar. 'Nova Akropola' begins very quietly, its Classical leanings initially resembling 'The Planets suite' by Gustav Holst. Soon, however, it becomes a thump-crash thump-thump-crash of yelling vocals. A sampled demagogue urges Yugoslavia to nationalistic war against its enemies, passionately juxtaposed with Slavic pride. 'Vade Retro Satanas' is said to function as a form of self-exorcism, Laibach's attempt to cleanse itself of the images which have been invoked by its own hand. The crushing bass used on 'Vier Personen' returns alongside a piercing electronic shriek that sounds like a toy police car on its way to Tinnitus Central. And behind all this we have an occasional Omen-esque drone sliced through with aggressive vocals. 'Die Liebe' starts with the same high-pitched whine, before emitting a brief German voice-sample and earth-shattering drumbeats. 'Du Der Du Herausforderst' - which, in a deliberate bastardisation of the German language, means 'You Who Challenge' - rises slowly from its menacing and odious origins towards a rythmic drum and bass clatter. It's torrid and uncompromising. The final track, 'Der Staat', brings in the famous stabbing violin piece used to depict the fatal shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock's 'Psycho' (1960). This is followed by a cocophony of effects used on previous tracks; including a stuttering drumbeat, shrill alarm sounds and nasal announcements. Around the six-minute mark a warlike soundtrack arrives and the beat begins to increase in speed. To conclude, then, whilst this is undoubtedly a great album it would be unfair to compare this release to other albums like 'Jesus Christ Superstars' or 'Opus Dei' because it's far more Industrial and doesn't contain any proper songs or nearly as much Classical material. It's fairly repetitive, too, but well worth a listen if you want forty-three and a half minutes of brutal drumbeats and bombastic energy. Strap yourself to a chair and set the volume to maximum.

June 2003