Category Archives: Interviews

Interview: Laibach

Originally published at kemptation.com on 12 April 2016. Words by Andrejka Zupancic

Slovenia’s industrial avant-garde pioneers Laibach first spoke to Kemptation writer Andrejka Zupancic in March 2015. In the interview, a feature which benefits from multiple readings, the band appeared to cover every angle, unafraid to speak their political minds and making reference to police surveillance, manifestos and the illusion of Europe, an institution that was born into a state of “constant disintegration”.

Since this first interview, the Eurozone has taken a giant hit, Greece’s finances have imploded, mass migration has swept the continent and politicians have had their dirty laundry exposed via the infamous Panama Papers.

The band travelled to North Korea in 2015 to play their first set of concerts there, and the first by a Western artist. Indeed, if Laibach were relevant before, they are more so now than ever.

Andrejka Zupancic speaks to the band in the run-up to their appearance at London’s O2 Forum Kentish Town.

You recently played live in North Korea. How was that – and was there ever a moment where you feared you may not return?

The journey to North Korea was very casual. There were no complications; perhaps most of us were a little afraid that we would feel too good and we would be more scared of returning home.

Did you adapt your repertoire of songs to the Korean audience?

North Korean cultural censorship is much more innocent and ethical compared to censorship that is happening in developed countries, where there is dictatorship of the market and capital

Although as a rule we do not discriminate against our audiences, in the case of North Korea we decided that the program would communicate along the perceptions of the Korean audience, which, in both the aesthetic and value senses, functions in a completely different paradigm to Western and European audiences. We therefore chose songs that were, at least to some extent, known to them. Tunes from the musical The Sound of Music, for example, are relatively well known because they learn English through these songs in high school. They even have their own arrangements of songs from this film – of course renovated following the model of their cultural milieu. In the processing of the Western samples, North Koreans use a similar method to what we use in Laibach and, therefore, we felt it would be appropriate to offer them their own version of songs from this famous musical, to show the parallels between “them” and “us”. Part of the audience had heard at least of The Beatles and so we played our version of Across the Universe. We also added a few cover versions of their popular songs, specifically We’ll Go to Mount Paektu, Honourable, Alive or Dead, Arirang and some stuff from our iron repertoire (Final Coundown, Life is Life, etc.), which to some extent also has a “heroic” character.

Was there censorship present?

Of course – as we expected, though it did not burden us. North Korean cultural censorship is much more innocent and ethical compared to censorship that is happening in developed countries, where there is dictatorship of the market and capital. They asked us to withdraw some of the songs, because they were simply too aggressive in their view, and this was done without any problem. The concert was no less “subversive”, though. In a way, it is simply impossible to censor Laibach; then it would no longer be Laibach.

How long have you been cooperating with Norwegian director Morten Traavik and how did this cooperation develop?

We met Morten as a director and multifunctional artist two years ago and we immediately offered him the job of directing the video for song Whistleblowers, from the last album Spectre. He was the one who suggested we all go to Pyongyang and perform two concerts in the North Korean capital. Through his projects, Morten has been successfully opening the door to North Korea for a long time. He also managed to convince us that Laibach was right for them and so a tour followed. Arrangements for the tour took almost an entire year – until the last minute, we were not even sure whether the performances in Korea would really happen.

How did the audience react to the performance?

Although most North Koreans have never heard such music as that played by Laibach, the audience reacted well, applauding for each song and giving a standing ovation at the end of the concert. Choe Jong Hwan, an older visitor, gave the following statement: “I did not know that in the world there is such music, but now I know.”

How the world will develop in the future really does depend on which direction the EU goes

Rodong Sinmun of the Workers’ Gazette (business newspaper of the Central Committee of the Workers’ Party of Korea) wrote the next day on the cover: “Artists with strong voices presented a very peculiar singing style and highlighted the beauty of each song with their virtuosity and, in this way, showed the artistic format of the group. And, much to the joy of the audience, Laibach played an extremely good version of the Korean song Arirang.”

Do you think that you have left a significant impression with your appearance and will your performance in any way affect the long-term change in Korean music and its art scene?

We certainly left behind some impression in North Korea – and elsewhere in the world probably even more so, which to this country and its culture, as a rule, behaves with derision and contempt.

In your song Now You Will Pay, you sing that “barbarians are coming, crawling from the East.” Can that somehow be interpreted as a prophetic forecast of what is happening in Europe today?

Given the fact that the song was originally recorded 13 years ago, in the perspective of the current refugee exodus, it really is very prophetic. Although, at the time of its creation, it referred more to the Eastern European nations that had joined the EU back then.

How much time remains for Europe as we know it today?

Europe, as we know it (and wish it to be) is essentially non-existent. It is a fiction, a desire, a mirage, a utopia. The real Europe is a system in constant disintegration. That disintegration is essentially the only stable principle on which Europe is de facto formed. With each decay of Europe – seen from an historical perspective – it is paradoxically, increasingly, becoming more stable. Therefore, despite all logic, we believe in a united Europe (which preferably would be all the way to Tokyo), as we have always believed in utopias and we hope that the idea of such a Europe could be realised. But this should not be cold Europe, led by political technocracies from Brussels or Frankfurt banking sectors and operated according to the dictates of neoliberal dogma. Instead, it should be the community, based on a common emancipatory project. And maybe the current disintegration of Europe, together with the current refugee-emigrant issues, should be taken very seriously to reverse the direction of Europe’s vision towards positivity.

How do you see the global organisation of the world in the coming years or decades? Do you think there will be enormous changes?

In light of the global organisation of the future world, there are three or four possible scenarios. After the first world, there will be domination and competition with one another – in the military, economic and cultural fields and in values – between several poles, such as the US, China, Russia, Europe and perhaps even any other pole. This is essentially already happening. Relationships will (continue to) run mainly (in selfish equity) in the interests of the individual poles.

The second utopian scenario shows the world in increased cooperation, domination of the idea of the United Nations and stable cooperation. There would be a kind of modern “Global Alliance” of nations. Hopefully, that could become true, although there is very slim possibility.

Europe is a fiction, a desire, a mirage, a utopia. The real Europe is a system in constant disintegration

The third scenario shows the world’s duopolistic regime, where at one pole there are countries that do not fight Islamic fundamentalism, along with their allies and and on the other pole, countries of the currently-developed West, which are more and more threatened by this ideology. Each of these two poles would defend its values and between the two poles there would be an imminent conflict of values. In this scenario, a gloomy forecast of the battle between civilizations would happen.

There is a fourth option, which will be a radicalised division of the world in the interests of only two superpowers – America on the one hand and China on the other. All other countries would be part of either one of this coalition.

How the world will develop in the future really does depend on which direction the EU goes, which is otherwise a global economic superpower, but does not play a serious role in the military field and which is actually under protection by (i.e. occupation of) America. Most of the EU wants as much as possible to be liberated from it, but currently there is not sufficient political unity, which would be needed for an effective European policy supported by the military and by moral strength. So far, Europe has only an economic power, but even that one at the moment is far from the reach of US power. Moral power on the continent has been completely taken over by the Vatican City.

In light of developments in the world, we can only hope for the best and behave like there will be hundred of years of peace, but get ready as if tomorrow war would happen.

I read somewhere that this year’s tour might be the last for Laibach. Is this true?

Very probably, the last European tour this year…

How has Slovenia’s audience transformed from Laibach’s beginnings to today?

Slovenia is a specific audience, but then so is every other. They still see us as something very strange and that is, in our context, essentially quite normal.

Could the message of your be music summed up in one sentence?

If that were possible, then this sentence would be endless.

Laibach 2016 Tour Dates

Apr 12, 2016 UK London The Forum
Apr 14, 2016 DK Aalborg Studenterhuset
Apr 15, 2016 DE Leipzig Haus Auensee
Apr 16, 2016 DE Dresden Alter Schlachthof
Apr 17, 2016 DE Munich Muffathalle
Apr 19, 2016 SK Košice Tabačka Kulturfabrika
Apr 20, 2016 PL Katowice MegaClub
Apr 22, 2016 IT Trieste SSG/Teatro Stabile Sloveno
Apr 23, 2016 IT Bologna Locomotiv Club
May 09, 2016 SI Ljubljana Cankarjev dom
Jun 24, 2016 SK Banská Bystrica Rockscape festival
Jul 01, 2016 BIH Tjentište OK Fest
Jul 03, 2016 ME Budva Stari grad

Interview: Kiran Leonard

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Originally published at kemptation.com on 21 January 2016. Words by Richard Kemp

Kiran Leonard leapt into many people’s eardrums with his 2013 record Bowler Hat Soup and its infectious-yet-puzzling opener Dear Lincoln. Now, with an exciting new album, Grapefruit, peeking over the horizon, the multi-talented songwriter has the likes of BBC 6Music’s Marc Riley, Stereogum and The Line Of Best Fit telling legions of listeners just why his music needs to be heard.

Kemptation had originally planned to ask Leonard a few questions over email and work them into an interesting feature. It turns out, however, that it’s far better just to let the man speak his mind. In the interview, we cover popularity, language, song construction, David Bowie and the true reasons why artists make the music they do.

We first came into contact with you through Marc Riley playing Dear Lincoln on his BBC 6Music show. Since then, we have been avid converts. Have you noticed an increase in listenership over the last couple of years?

I suppose I receive more nice e-mails and messages than I used to. I try not to obsessively track Twitter mentions and stuff but it’s kind of addictive. Sometimes I get the urge to just go home, give my copy of Future Primitive a big wet kiss and bury all my hardware in the back garden.

You speak Portuguese and even sing in Portuguese on some songs, such as O Hospideiro. Do you find that you can express things in this language that are not quite possible in English?

I don’t speak Portuguese fluently by any stretch of the imagination – I can read it alright, but I still definitely have a long way to go. I’ve also never tried writing lyrics or poetry in Portuguese: O Hospideiro is a cover of a song by a friend of mine that I translated into wobbly Portuguese as a linguistic exercise. Sorry, that was a really boring answer. I’ll try again in my response to the next question.

You mention on the liner notes to your 2015 EP, Abandoning Noble Goals, that you admire singer Daniel Johnston’s ability to present exactly who he is through song, and that this is something you find difficult to achieve yourself. Does singing in a different language help with this at all?

Well, again, I have never released a song in another language that I’ve written, so I can’t answer that question directly. I think that every human being, regardless of the language through which they choose to communicate, is faced with the task of rendering intangible, deeply personal feelings into tangible, accessible speech. I mean in day-to-day life, not just in arty farty ‘confessional’ songwriting. Reading in other languages, whilst obviously as pleasurable as reading usually is, offers more incomplete solutions to a problem that is impossible to overcome. It’s helpful in the way that if you climb up a stepladder you’re probably a bit closer to the Earth’s outer orbit.

Your latest single, Pink Fruit, which was released in anticipation of your forthcoming album, Grapefruit, is a whole 16-and-a-quarter minutes long. David Bowie just did a similar thing. Who’s riding on whose coattails here?

I thought the noise surrounding that new David Bowie single was very peculiar for two reasons. First of all, it’s not new ground for him at all to write long pieces that eschew traditional song structure – you hear that his new record is going to be full of long, strange pieces and just think, “oh right, like Station to Station.” You get the impression that people were freaking out ’cause David Bowie had recorded the song, not because the song had been recorded… and that’s just sheer celeb idolatry rather than judging a piece’s innovative qualities on its own merits. In of itself, the song is territory covered by a huge number of artists before him and by Bowie himself.

Pink Fruit is an exceptional track, a whopping cavalcade of genre-busting anti-merriment. How did this song come about?

Initially the song was just that one riff in 7/8 that you hear nine times 12 minutes or so into the song for a quarter of an hour – then, I figured that would be really tedious. I think I wrote the last four minutes first, then the first four minutes, then the middle bit. The music and the lyrics came together over the course of a year or so.

I don’t think it’s anti-merry! I guess it’s not a very pleasant depiction of human beings. It’s got saucepans in it though, and they’re well merry.

We are looking forward to hearing your new material played live. Did you catch the Sanctum here in Bristol recently? A 24-hour live exhibit of sound for 24 straight days; hundreds of musicians and storytellers took part. Sanctum’s mission was to show Bristolians a new way of experiencing their city. How about with your music? Do you use sound as a way to cultivate new experiences for others?

Well, I mean, on the one hand musicians don’t have a responsibility to cultivate anything for anyone except themselves. I’m still in two minds about the idea of art as a selfless act. You mentioned Daniel Johnston; believe me when I say that what he has written has helped me immeasurably at moments in my life. But ultimately he’s doing it for himself. That kinda goes completely against what Andrey Tarkovsky said about his films: he didn’t believe in any of that, he was all about art being… about an individual trying to articulate their own truth of existence to a wider population in the hope that it will help enlighten them – to depict but also to transcend – but he’s no martyr, he did it because he loved cinema and because he wanted to find these truths for himself. You make art for yourself but if it lacks a certain resonance with other people then I think that affects its quality.

I’m trying to avoid a “oh I don’t know about that mate, I just write songs and if anyone likes them, then-” sort of answer, because I fucking hate that complete lack of responsibility with every fibre of my being. It’s pathetic and cowardly. It’s good to have an outlook on what you make with a mixture of thoughtfulness and modesty, and to try to find a way to assert a belief in the worth of what you’re making without turning it into something self-aggrandising. I take what I write very seriously but… yeah, I like the way Tarkovsky put it. There is a value in what I express because there is a value in human self-expression. Does that answer your question? Not really. Bristol’s great though, I hope I get to visit next year at some point. I’m in the middle of reading his book, Sculpting in Time, so that’s why I’m gushing about Tarkovsky. He can talk about the role of art to its audience with much more beauty and precision than I ever can, and I think his definition applies to him as much as it applies to anyone as much as it applies to me. So ye m8 don’t mind me u know just write sum songs init and if some1 else likes it then that’s a bonus m8, ye.

Kiran Leonard’s single, Pink Fruit, is available as a one-sided etched 12″ via Moshi Moshi. His album, Grapefruit, will be released on 25 March 2016.

Find out more about Kiran Leonard via Twitter, Facebook, Bandcamp, Tumblr, SoundCloud and YouTube.

Interview: Elvis Perkins

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Originally published at kemptation.com on 6 December 2015. Words by Richard Kemp

It was almost a shock to learn that Elvis Perkins would be coming out with a third studio album. Until 2015, fans would have been forgiven for assuming the New York recording artist was on indefinite hiatus. Perkins released his debut, Ash Wednesday, in 2007, with album number two, Elvis Perkins in Dearland, following just two years later.

And then, silence…

OK, silence is perhaps an overstatement, but not a single new album emerged from the Perkins camp in that time. The bare-bones folk of Ash Wednesday had gained Perkins the tricky moniker of “New Dylan” (no doubt for its gripping opener, While You Were Sleeping) while …Dearland saw him and his band combine their efforts to create an out-and-out group record; the result bearing exuberant choruses (I Heard Your Voice in Dresden) and wholly memorable sing-alongs (Doomsday).

Understandable, then, that the Perkins fan base wanted him back. They needed more; and in early 2015, the musician announced that he would be returning with his third full-length studio album, the now-acclaimed I Aubade, and a full US and European tour. It is before the show on the Bristol leg of this tour that Kemptation meets with Elvis Perkins to talk life, language and revolution.

Elvis Perkins has been through more than most when it comes to heartbreak. He lost both of his parents by the time he was 25: his father, actor Anthony Perkins, famous for playing Norman Bates in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’, to AIDS in 1992, and his mother, photographer Berry Berenson, to the terrorist attacks in New York City on September 11 2001.

Naturally then, Perkins has a lot to be sad about. This certainly shows in his musical output (he even named his first record Ash Wednesday in reaction to the aftermath of the attacks, which occurred on a Tuesday). And yet, as the conversation flows, Perkins seems content, satisfied, even…happy. He cracks jokes and dives into unanticipated tangents, bringing up far more interesting answers than the original questioning could ever have managed. This change in character is clear on listening to the new record, too. The album, I Aubade, is a far cry from the Elvis Perkins of old. “It’s the most genuine Elvis Perkins record there is,” he says, putting this down to the fact that he wrote and recorded the entire album alone, without influence from any producer (as with Ash Wednesday) or from the rest of his band (as with …Dearland).

Perkins had no management or label following the release of …Dearland and the subsequent Doomsday EP and so he decided to take his time with I Aubade, to make the album that he truly wanted. ‘Aubade’, French for the morning version of a serenade and the title word of Perkins’ album, came to him out of the blue. He was immediately struck by the word’s ambiguity; it also seemed to fit perfectly with what he was attempting with his music. “I had been aiming to make songs that would be for metaphysical morning time,” he says, and so ‘aubade’ seemed like a gift from the unknown (or at least the app store – he is not shy in admitting that ‘aubade’ came to him via a word-of-the-day alert on his phone).

“If you have any kind of audience, any kind of a voice, you must use it for good, whatever good looks like to you”

Perkins is fascinated with language. He fills his songs with plays-on-words and double meanings, something that he learnt from an early age. He makes reference to his father, who was a keen word player and a relentless pun maker. The UK loves its puns, which sets Perkins to thinking about his British ancestry. “I don’t know where Perkins comes from specifically in the UK, but we definitely had ancestors coming over. I think we had one on the Mayflower in fact, so maybe it’s a blood thing. They brought the puns with them over the seas.”

Many of Perkins’ song lyrics and titles also come from what he describes as a “slur of the hearing”. How’s Forever Been, Baby? was something he thought he had heard at a barbecue while Send My Fond Regards To Lonelyville comes from him mishearing the name of a neighbourhood in Providence, Rhode Island called Olneyville.

Perkins, as well as playing with words, likes to experiment with perception. His music often combines sad themes with catchy footstompers that take a few listens to realise what you are dancing to. When asked why listeners respond to this so well, Perkins is at first reluctant to place a finger on it, though eventually attempts an answer: “it must have something to do with the binary nature of existence,” he says. “The life and the death, the black and the white…If you can present something that breaks apart dichotomy by giving you both at the same time…you have maybe broken through some kind of divide that is only perceived in the mind.”

While I Aubade is a personal record for Perkins, it has many more take-home messages for its listeners than its predecessors. Perkins believes that, as the Earth’s “self-appointed custodians”, humans are doing a poor job of protecting their planet and he is unafraid to sing about this. Album track 2$ is a wakeup call to any who believe in the power of the presidential vote. In the song, Perkins asks whether a Washington can redeem a Jefferson, alluding to the one-dollar and two-dollar bills and the fact that the real power and vote lies in where we choose to spend our money rather than what box we decide to tick on election day.

Activism is not the coolest subject for a songwriter to tackle – Michael Jackson and Neil Young are prime examples of this with their environmental calls to arms – and regardless of how imperative these issues are, Perkins has noticed some pushback. An audience member in Copenhagen had invited him and the band back to his place after a show. He was nice, says Perkins, but he also had no problems with saying exactly what he thought, even if it would ruffle some feathers. “He let me know that I had been preaching to the converted…it was difficult to not come across as an asshole. This was a fan of mine telling this to me.”

The experience in Copenhagen surprised Perkins and so began an internal battle between the side of his brain telling him he shouldn’t make songs like 2$ because they annoy people and the other side that saw it as his duty. Ultimately, he decided that, whether people want to hear it or not, his message is one which bears repeating over and over again: “if you have any kind of audience, any kind of a voice, you must use it for good, whatever good looks like to you.”

Tonight’s set includes a heady mix of classic Elvis Perkins songs – Doomsday makes an appearance, complete with marching bass drum, as does a heart-wrenching rendition (what other rendition is there?) of Ash Wednesday – plus many tracks from the new album. Pun-riddled jaunt Hogus Pogus gets plenty of laughs, with the singer recounting the tale of a man who has his heart replaced with that of a pig. New song Now Or Never Loves stirs the chuckles, too. Perkins and bassist Danielle Ackroyd play the will-they-won’t-they romantic couple, leaning in to each other and stopping short on the closing beat – “it’s a cliffhanger,” he says.

Perkins is clearly comfortable in his role as bandleader and stage performer. He recognises this himself, too: “I don’t know what happened in the past several years, but I enjoy the touring process much more than I did before.” When the band plays Slow Doomsday, Perkins encourages the Bristol crowd to sing along, calling with a grin, “we’ll let you know when your time has come, Bristol.”

“I believe that we need revolution if we’re ever going to survive and not kill off every other thing that inhabits the oceans and land and sky”

The band plays 2$ tonight as well, with Perkins introducing it simply as a song about spending your money wisely. Knowing the story behind the song and its shaky reception makes it all the more powerful when performed live. Instead of giving much preamble to this song, though, Perkins uses any available mic time to spread his love for all living things, reminding the crowd that we are all part of the same one world and that we’re all headed for the same place. He talks about second chances, too, something even the people who committed the abominable attacks in Paris on 13 November 2015 will receive. Spoken by anyone other than Elvis Perkins, this may have come across as naive, even thoughtless, but this is a person who has had more than his fair share of inner turmoil to deal with and so, instead, it is clear that Perkins is coming from a place of love.

This comes off during our conversation, too. Perkins talks about revolution – the internal kind, rather than external: “I’m not saying it needs to be violent or anything, when I say ‘revolution’, but I do think we need revolution if we’re going to survive and not kill off every other thing that inhabits the oceans and land and sky.”

The band pulls out a couple of unheard numbers during tonight’s set, suggesting that perhaps the next record will have a quicker turnaround than the five and a half years we had to wait for I Aubade. Speaking to fans after the show, Perkins assures them exactly this. He will be back, and Bristol will be ready and waiting with warm, welcoming and unfalteringly open arms.

Interview: Gordon Montgomery, owner of The Centre for Better Grooves, Bristol

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Originally published at kemptation.com on 3 August 2015. Words by Richard Kemp

When I walk into the Centre for Better Grooves, a newly-opened record shop on Cranbrook Road, Bristol, I am met with a scene like nothing of the manic, cluttered display so lovingly depicted in Nick Hornby’s novel ‘High Fidelity’. There are no sticky floors or disinterested sales staff. Instead, I feel as if I have stumbled into someone’s living room. I am offered a cup of coffee and those all-too-familiar feelings of guilt – of unworthiness for not having swotted up enough on myriad unknown musicians beforehand – quickly disappear.

Whether consciously or not, a good portion of the UK’s used record shops cater mainly for the seasoned music head. This can make shopping for records a stressful experience for anyone without the prerequisite knowledge. The owner of the Centre for Better Grooves, Gordon Montgomery, who made his name as the force behind nationwide success Fopp, looks to buck this trend, to do away with the unfriendly, impenetrable stereotype of the used record store.

“Yeah, I don’t encourage that. We’re inclusive,” says Montgomery. Say a customer enters the shop and has no idea where to start with seminal German outfits Can or NEU!, he and Dean McCaffrey (Montgomery’s equally knowledgeable and approachable sales assistant) choose instead to turn this into a learning opportunity. “People come in,” he explains, “and they say they don’t know but ‘this is the sort of thing I’m interested in, can you help?’. So we provide a service.”

I want people to come to my shop and say ‘this is how you should do a record shop’…I want to be the best.

Montgomery is a businessman, through and through. He makes no bones about this nor about the fact that his key mission for the shop is to turn a profit – if this weren’t possible, he would never have set up in the first place. Sure, it’s an independent second-hand record shop, but it’s still a business and so he employs a lot of the sales techniques he developed during his Fopp days. Many used record stores have signs all over saying ‘All records are untested’ or ‘No returns’, but Montgomery doesn’t run things this way. In his shop, all records, new or old, are guaranteed. “People go to a second-hand store,” he says, “and they take a bit of a punt. They don’t feel as if they should take it back…Here, we don’t make the distinction between ‘used’ and ‘new’. We just say they’re all ‘records’.”

Still, with so much competition on the nearby Gloucester Road (the longest stretch of independent shops in Europe), it is tough to bring in the punters. Cranbrook Road is not the most obvious of retail areas and so Montgomery decided early on that he would have to make his offer different from that of everyone else.

While other shops might buy in job lots of stock without considering whether it’ll sell, Montgomery makes sure to focus on the quality. He started record hunting in the mid-1980s by going to charity shops. “And when I’d lost the will to live,” he recalls, “doing three towns in a day, when I found myself in Newport, South Wales and I’d been there two hours with a bad belly and only managed to find one record for a pound, you start to think this isn’t quite right, is it?”

Now his stock comes mostly from dealers, which suits Montgomery fine since that’s where he often finds the best stuff. “The more serious collectors and DJs, they don’t want to be seen behind the decks with a repress, so they’ll pay a little bit more…they [the DJs] have built their collections over years and so they have long lists. If they can just buy a few off that list each month, I suppose they’re satisfied.”

Soul and funk are two genres with which Montgomery’s shop seems fit to burst. For every James Brown and Isaac Hayes record, there’s one from Bobby Womack, Sam Cooke or the Ohio Players. The shop’s jazz section, tucked away in the back (“always put jazz in the back,” Montgomery riffs. “They like dark places, jazz fans”), is mightily impressive. There’s a turntable on hand, too, for anyone who wishes to sit with their coffee and try before they buy. Even the rock section, which sprawls across the front of the store, has top-rated selections from the likes of Pink Floyd, Neil Young, Led Zeppelin and King Crimson. As he takes me further round his store, I get the feeling that Montgomery is proud of every record he sells.

“If a jazz aficionado walks into a record shop and sees a load of Tubby Hayes,” he says, “they’ll go through the rest of the jazz section. If they don’t see that, they’ll think it’s not a good jazz shop – ‘No Tubby Hayes? I’m out’ – and that would be the same for Hampton Hawes or Bill Evans…That’s merchandising. Small independent record shops are poor at it. Used record shops are absolutely abysmal at it. They don’t lay it out so people can find it easily…They don’t use that psychology…They think ‘bugger ‘em, let them find it themselves.’”

Some traditionalists might turn their noses at applying professional retail techniques to the used vinyl market, but Montgomery doesn’t see it this way. “Most people appreciate it,” he says. “Here, it’s neat, tidy and well laid out. People like it here. Generally, record shops are supposed to just have fag butts on the floor and stink of real ale, and put people off.”

“It doesn’t matter how big the business is, I lose sleep over this because it never goes away.”

The psychology of retail is a constant theme when talking to Montgomery. The importance of keeping the bestsellers at the front, for instance (“that way, you’ve got a product in your hand. And once you’ve got a product in your hand, you’re gonna buy more products”). He recalls his time working at Virgin on Market Street in Manchester, back when record stores could sell thousands of albums a day. “You could not put records on shelves between 1pm and 4pm. It was impossible. If you ran out of a line, even if you had it in the stock room, you couldn’t get out there…’cause people used to congregate in record shops…That’s why, you know, at Rise, that’s why that café was put in there: for dwell time and also to appeal to a new demographic. ‘Well, if they don’t buy a record, at least they buy a coffee and a panini and we can get some rent.’”

I ask Montgomery whether profit really is the only goal for him. Does he have any other aims for the shop? “I want to be the frontrunner, I don’t want to be at the back. I want people to come to my shop and say ‘this is how you should do a record shop.’…I want to be the best.”

In order to achieve this, though, Montgomery admits he’ll need to move locations. He has a two-year lease for now, but once that’s up he’ll need to find something bigger, and more central, where he can relocate. The other factor in this is the vinyl market itself. Many continue to argue how the resurgence of vinyl is set for another downswing, how it’s just a fad. Then there is the explosion of vinyl shops opening in the last ten years. Bristol alone has a plethora of independent, second-hand record shops and so what does Montgomery plan to do once the market hits saturation? “I’m great at ironing. I can charge 20 pounds an hour to iron – and that’s more than I make out of selling records. Just gotta teach Dean to iron properly and we’ll have a full service.”

There will always be a certain demand for good-quality records, Montgomery reckons. Whether there’s a profit to be made in future, though, is harder to tell. “If it doesn’t [make a profit], I’ll have to turn my hand to retailing other products. Or not retail at all. I’m unemployable. I can’t get a job. I haven’t interviewed since I was a kid…I don’t know how to dress or be compliant. HR would have me in the book within a week.”

Montgomery’s fine with this, though. He would much rather keep working for himself. I ask him whether he has advice for anyone looking to start a business: “Calculate the risk. Be prepared to lose a lot of sleep. It doesn’t matter how big the business is, I lose sleep over this because it never goes away…I used to run Fopp and I lose as much sleep over this as I did running Fopp…because you have to commit yourself. It’s not for everybody.”

In the end, it’s tough love that Montgomery issues over anything else: “Being self-employed, most people don’t do it – it’s too risky…There are no entitlements to running your own business. You’ve either got to get your sorry ass out of bed and do it or not.”

Interview: Niet

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Originally published at kemptation.com on 31 July 2015. Words by Andrejka Zupancic

Slovenian punk group Niet was founded in late 1983 and quickly became established as one of the best bands of the then-very-strong Ljubljana hardcore scene. The band was soon to carve a unique path for itself, recording first hit Depresija (Depression) in April 1984, and following this with two summer blockbusters inPesrpektive (Perspectives) and Ritem človeštva (Rhythm of humanity).

In 2008, after it had seemed that Niet would never grace the stage again, the group (under constant pressure from the public) returned with new singer Borut Marolt (ex-Prisluhnimo tišini / Listen to the silence) and a near-perfect, original lineup in guitarists Igor Dernovšek and Robert Likar, bassist Aleš Češnovar and drummer Thomas Bergant.

Kemptation writer Andrejka Zupancic interviews guitarist and original founding member Igor Dernovšek.

Zupancic: How did you come to the decision of reforming Niet after so many years?

Dernovšek: Yes, it was long. We were active (with a two-year interruption due to the then-mandatory military service in former Yugoslavia) from the end of 1983 to 1988. After the death of singer Primož Habič (1991), we gathered again in 1993 for a few concerts, but then we disbanded for 15 years. In the meantime, our popularity grew so much that we were practically forced to return. Luckily, we found enough will and an excellent new frontman in Borut Marolt.

What kind of audience comes to your concerts? Is it mostly those from your early years or a younger generation?

Upon our return in 2008, we were somehow distributed between the old and young fans. Now our audience is dominated by youth, between 15 and 25 years old. We are a band that have equal effect on all generations and this is one of the things of which we are most proud.

The social situation is such that now you have to be a rebel.

Which songs are your audiences most excited about – new or old?

Hard to say. In addition to old classics like Lep dan za smrt (Good day to die), Depresija (Depression), Vijolice (Violets) and Februar (February), we get equal response for 90s tracks Ruski vohun (Russian spy) and Bil je maj (It was May) and for newer ones like Vsak dan se kaj lepega začne (Every day something nice starts), Dekle izza zamreženega okna (Girl behind barricaded window) and Ti in jaz in noč in večnost (You and me and night and eternity). The last two are from our most recent LP, Trinajst (Thirteen), which was released in 2010. In 2012, we made music for the highly-successful rock musical Rokovnjači (Ruffians), which was also released on CD though not aimed at such a wide audience.

Your singer Borut Marolt is formidable in carrying out his mission. How did the audience react to this addition? Were there any negative critics in connection with Primoz Habič and a new singer? It’s clear that many people consider the singer to carry the appearance of the whole group.

He [Marolt] was accepted remarkably quickly, especially by the ladies. He himself, as well as the rest of us, were of course a little nervous at the beginning, because Primoz Habič was kind of iconic in the punk scene of the 1980s. I still remember the reactions in 1993, when I replaced him myself. But time apparently heals while also exaggerating nostalgia.

What are your earliest memories of Niet’s first years in the punk era? Do you have an interesting story from concerts during that period?

Naturally, we were very young at that time: 17, 18 years old. We were angry kids, we were creating a lot of nonsense. I do not know, not all of them [the stories] are for the public. It is also the fact that we were then a part of Yugoslavia and we had a market of 20 million. There were a lot more opportunities for concerts, several of which we played abroad in France, Italy and elsewhere. We were also lucky to be able to play with some of the giants of the English and American punk scenes at that time, bands such as Angelic Upstarts and Youth Brigade as well as with the biggest names of the former-Yugoslavian rock scene, such as EKV, Zabranjeno pušenje and Električni orgazam.

Could you tell us briefly what the biggest difference in style is between your early years and now?

I do not know exactly. In the 80s, we were rapidly developing and changing from the initial hardcore, some of which we still play at concerts. In recent months, we have already come up with a unique, shall we say, Niet style with a distinctive guitar sound, catchy tunes and shadowy texts. As time wore on, we endeavoured to expand our repertoire while keeping to the same base.

How would you define yourselves in terms of commercial success, now or in the past?

Once we played for packs of beer and for travel costs on the train. Today, however, we can hire a van and get a hundred or two hundred euros per head. Although we are among the most successful and desirable rock bands in Slovenia, it is far from plausible to speak of any commercial success. Slovenia is small, its population size that of a large European city, and the country’s music scene is dominated by techno and folk. The most important things for us are that audiences respond at concerts and that we are putting out well-made LPs.

I have always been interested in your private lives – is it possible to live in Slovenia and make money only from music?

Private lives? Our drummer (Bergant) is married and has two children while Likar (guitarist) is separated, has two children and a new, younger girlfriend. The two other members of Niet are single and enjoy life. I live on maize with a girl and have a 10-year-old daughter. We are all employed, as railwayman, postman, journalist, teacher and stage worker. We are all trying to live as fully as possible; we like to drink and smoke a bit but, above all, we love music.

In the end, it’s the common people who always suffer.

Unfortunately, in Slovenia, with fewer than two million people, earning money with music can only be possible for a few folk bands, each having some festival week. The pop and rock scenes have room for only about five to ten artists – and yet even those artists are not exactly wealthy. Some of the best session musicians, and some classical musicians employed in state institutions, can live from music alone. We, of course, would very much like to live off our music, but the circle of people who still listen to rock in the broadest sense, and who are also willing to pay, is becoming smaller and smaller. Technology, the Internet, it has all played its part and so even copyright cannot exactly bring in the money.

Are you still as rebellious as you once were?

Much more so. Back then, we were more ferocious but we did not exactly know what we were resisting. Now, the social situation is such that you have to be a rebel.

In one interview, you said that “The trough has changed, the pigs remain the same”. Who particularly are you targeting with this statement?

That in power there are always ‘rotten’ people. This may be the inner circle of the former Communist Party or the present ‘left’ and ‘right’ wing politicians and their capitalist masters. In the end, it’s the common people who always suffer.

Did you ever see Laibach as your competition? What do you think of them?

Laibach had formed a few years before us. Their music was in other waters and so while we did not really socialise together, we also did not compete. I appreciate them a lot: Laibach created a completely different form of expression and dared to provoke the then-still-very-orthodox communist regime while making a huge breakthrough into the rest of the world. Respect to them!

Have you ever been politically engaged?

In the 80s, no. We were teenagers; politics did not interest – not us even a little bit. Now, politics is of great interest to us and this is reflected in some lyrics, even though our songs continue to dominate personally-expressive poetry. To some extent, politics is my professional area since I earn bread as a journalist.

Which songs from your latest album are your favourites?

Our new album, V bližini ljudi (Near people), is due for release in September. We released the first single in June, which was has engaged people and become popular. The rest of the hits are to remain a secret as we are saving them for the second, third and fourth singles.

How would you describe your musical style?

As Niet, I do not know. It’s hard to say. They [the music industry] classified us as punk, though we are not that. The energy of our music is punk-ish, but there are some obvious melodic influences and 1960s psychedelia plus some other forms of rock and alternative music.

Plans for the future? Perhaps a tour abroad?

We will soon be releasing a reprint of our first cassette from 1984, Srečna mladina (Lucky Youth). The record, which will be released on vinyl and CD by Swedish label NE Records, became one of the most re-recorded cassettes of Slovenian in history, or so people say. Most of the reprint copies will go to the US, Germany and Japan. In August, we will be mixing our new album, V bližini ljudi (Near people), ready for its release in September. A tour of Slovenia will then follow, but perhaps some concerts abroad might be possible.

Interview: Laibach

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Originally published at kemptation.com on 17 March 2015. Words by Andrejka Zupancic

Laibach are one of very few acts truly deserving of the cliché, ‘more than just a band’. Formed in 1980, in the rural town of Trbovlje, Slovenia, Laibach became the musical arm of the Neue Slowenische Kunst (New Slovenian Art) collective, a group so radical that it would go on to found its own country, even issuing passports and opening embassies.

Laibach have influenced many great acts across multiple genres. According to Trent Reznor, if there had been no Laibach, it would be hard to ever imagine Nine Inch Nails or Rammstein coming into being.

Laibach, relevant as ever (or perhaps even more so), are currently haunting Europe with their eighth studio album, Spectre. We speak with the band about the new album, its message, the future of Europe and the concept of their international Party (you can’t leave the Party, apparently, but the Party can leave you).

You are currently on tour, promoting your album, Spectre. The lyrics have quite a political tone. What is the message of the album?

Spectre is basically a kind of ‘manifesto’ of the international Party, which we founded at the launch of the new album. There is an increased engagement in consciousness in Europe and elsewhere in the world – people are tired of the existing political and economic order and want to take power into their own hands and return the dignity and solidarity to social relations in ordinary life. In doing so, we can only support them and, in addition, we simultaneously try to return some political relevance and dignity into popular culture.

The entertainment industry should be fun (in the first place, at least), but it should also take its fair share of responsibility for the common social and political climate. Most of the popular entertainment industry today is completely trivialised and lost on all levels, particularly in the context of the basic issues of social justice and politics. One of the reasons for the establishment of a party is, therefore, also self-destructive; a cynical status in popular culture. Today, nobody takes music seriously, musicians and the music industry have gambled it away. But we believe that music can, in principle, still work as a mobilising force – think of all the brilliant periods in the history of pop culture – if it is not encumbered with itself, if it does not behave only as ‘music’, if it exits from its media and operates in the so-called ‘underground’, if it anarch-organises itself – not as a sub-culture alternative, but as a whip of God. Spectre therefore deals with this kind of content.

What is the purpose of the Party?

We established the Party as the classic ‘Stalinist’ international Party. It is available to all those who may be inspired by Laibach and who want something more than to just blindly consume ideas and objects. We do not want it to be a fan club; rather, we want socially and politically sensitive members who will actually engage themselves in their environments and connect and support one another (and help with other related projects), even remotely. We will also direct them a bit, so as not to get too mired in strange waters, but we will still allow them enough freedom, or at least its illusion.

You all have pseudonyms: Dachauer, Keller, Saliger and Eber. What do they mean?

Laibach works as a team, with a collective spirit, following the model of industrial production and totalitarianism. This means: no individual speaks; the organisation speaks.

The entertainment industry should take its fair share of responsibility for the common social and political climate.

Our work is industrial, language is political. The internal structure works on a directive principle and symbolises the relationship of ideology to an individual. The members of Laibach, since 1982, are Eber, Saliger, Dachauer and Keller, making a quadruple principle which, predestined, conceals any number of sub-objects (depending on needs). The flexibility and anonymity of membership prevents eventual individual deviations and allows a permanent revitalisation of the inner life juices. Subject, which can in the process of work be identified with extreme position of contemporary post-industrial production, automatically becomes a member of Laibach. Others hold the status of colleague.

Where are most of your concerts taking place and do you have a favourite audience?

We do not discriminate between audiences – or, at least, we pretend not to. We are politically correct enough that we are willing to lie about this. Nevertheless, our favourite audience is one that most loves us or hates us; those are the ones that are most inspirational.

The group was founded in Trbovlje. Do you still come back and organise concerts in your hometown?

Yes, we do that on a regular basis, in part because we were banned in Trbovlje when the band formed in 1980. It was in 1990 that we finally performed there for the first time – and even then under the watchful eye of the police. But Trbovlje gave a sense of perseverance, humour, ruggedness and sophistication. It marked us, so completely and thoroughly, that we still return to this, the most beautifully ugly city in the world.

It wasn’t until 1990 that we were finally allowed to perform in Trbovlje – and even then it was under the watchful eye of the police.

This is a typical Slovenian trait of dark cynicism and scepticism, but people in Trbovlje, though they are subject to all the junk of social roughness, are actually very sensitive and good. Today, the city varies considerably and instead of mining, power plants and heavy industry, there are now sophisticated companies such as the software company Dewesoft, which makes software for NASA in the USA and similar. A new youth culture has emerged, too, which organises the radical sound and music festivals. A new avant-garde collective has also formed, which hosts an annual international festival of new media called Speculum Artium – a few days of the year in which Trbovlje transforms into Slovenian Ars Electronica. Guests, artists, scientists and theorists come from all over the world – and we, of course, imagine that this change happened partly thanks to Laibach.

In your song, Eurovision, you proclaim ‘the collapse of Europe.’ Do you have a vision of how much time Europe has left?

Europe, as we know it and want it to be, does not exist. It is just a fiction, a desire, an illusion. The Europe that really exists is an intertwined and interdependent system in constant disintegration. And it seems this disintegration is the only stable principle through which Europe de facto has always been established. This was the case in the past and this will probably be the future. We wish her a safe journey and hope someday Europe will span the territory from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

After the release of your new album you are again getting politically active. In the 80s, the British press described you as “the most dangerous band in the world”. Why?

We do not know why. It probably seemed inconceivable to them that there could be such a radically different interpretation of the world, so different from the vision offered by the British and Anglo-American pop-rock sentiment.

What are the similarities and differences between Spectre and NSK (New Slovenian Art)?

The NSK was established at its inception and defined as an ‘abstract organism, supremacist body installed in a real political space as a social sculpture, consisting of the body heat, spirit and movement work of its members’. It is open to all, without exception, who want to become its citizens. Therefore, we left the country to its citizens, to organise themselves in any way they know how.

Unfortunately, nothing significantly different came out of it than just a kind of Laibach-ish. The NSK fan club was all about being some kind of artistic installation and trying to be to be more papal than the Pope. Therefore, we decided to establish a Party that would require from its members a specific social and political engagement and, therefore, give them specific tasks. Party membership is open to anyone to whom Laibach can serve as an inspiration and a formal link with like-minded subjects around the world – and we ourselves will be the ones conducting the Party.

In all your years of existence, who has tried to censor you most?

Ourselves. If this was not the case, today we probably would no longer exist.

What are your plans for the next album?

It exists, and we will start getting more involved with it, intensively so, in the second half of the year. But, for now, it is still too early to talk about it.

SPECTRE DIGITAL DELUXE ALBUM & SPECTREMIX OUT 30 MARCH 2015

UK Tour Dates:

30 March – Brighton, Concorde 2
31 March – Glasgow, Classic Grand
2 April – London, Electric Ballroom
3 April – Manchester, Academy 2