It’s only 28 years or so since BM heard Laibach’s comprehensive deconstruction of The Beatles’ ‘Let It Be’ album, turning the “back to basics” hippyish singalongs into lambasting military anthems – the whole album. The vocals were some sort of deadpan caricature – Stalin’s showbiz younger brother might approximate the tone. Amazing – have wanted to see them live in action ever since.
The Slovenian art collective (yes really) have survived pre-1990 persecution, post 1990 actualisation (at one point they founded their own state as things in FYR got a bit tough) and have been relatively frequent visitors to these shores – they have played this Glasgow venue a couple of times in the past decade. This combo has a long and complex history, a brief diversion into Mittel-Europe and its dialectical ways is probably not what most ITM readers really want, so let’s just leave it and concentrate on tonight.
So tonight on BM’s arrival around 8.30pm, they were already onstage in a fairly packed venue (the top deck cordoned off for the mixing desk).
They are promoting current release ‘Spectre’, with an extensive merch stand of T-shirts, back catalogue etc. and there looks like quite a devoted fanbase – have to say when buying the ticket for this BM thought she might be standing with one man and a saukerkraut, sorry…
The Laibach of 2014 is a somewhat different combo from that of the ‘Let It Be’ era, with BM thinks only one of the “original” fab four still performing on stage, he of the ridiculously low and studied vocal, believe he goes under the name of Milan Fras, but pseudonymns and actual shape-shifting are not unknown mit Laibach, there are on a par with ID on that front…
Anyway, the doomy, somewhat gothy sound is frequently melodramatic, sometimes cheesy and oft recalls the Sisters of Mercy in their more dramatic, Floodland, era, along with, some say, Rammstein, but BM thinks they are ploughing slightly different lines. There are some “let’s invade someone, anyone” swipes, some totalitarian provocations: “Resistance is Futile”, “No History”. A more decorative female Ice Maiden has replaced several aging members and belts out the melodies in between Milan’s Iron Curtain Marlboro Man musings – all fair and good. There is also a sense of humour here but it is quite black, possibly opaque and let’s just say born of experience, saying any more might offend.
Onstage they are apparently a five piece, the two vocalists, two keyboardists and a drummer, but it’s hard to tell at times given all the various visuals – they are definitely masters of theatre and mystery as well as musicians.
But it is BM confession time, not here to listen to their original material, ok as it is, it is their choice of cover versions that is the absolute icing on the cake. No ‘Let It Be’ numbers here, not even their unsurpassed version of ‘The Final Countdown’, but they do pull out a couple of real surprises, and some evergreens as well.
You haven’t really made it as an artist unless Laibach have covered you, really. Apart from possibly Scooter (unironic German techno maniacs, best cover to date ‘Marianne’, also by SoM, are we seeing a pattern here?), Laibach are the “go to” for OTT militaristic cover versions. Tonight the first cover is ‘Each Man Kills The Thing He Loves’ (credited Jeanne Moreau, written by?), fair enough, then one better with a Siddharta cover **BM not too familiar with, but the biggest surprise and highlight of the night was the hysterically funny cover of ‘Ballad of a Thin Man’ by Dylan, sounding like a going over by Slovenia’s equivalent of the Stazi, Mr Jones… ‘And Blind Lemon Jefferson’s “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean’ is also hilarious.
They also didn’t disappoint with their trademark Queen cover (in German) ‘Geburt Einer Nation’ and after the techno groove of ‘Tanz Mit Laibach’ (almost a DAF/Kraftwerk cover in itself) the night ended with the Opus cover ‘Leben Heisst Leben’ (Live is Life), taken to the furthest degree of manglement in the vocals and treated effects, a disembowelment heading straight for a car crash.
BM hopes that this combo go on forever – true originals.