METAL MANIACS zine (by Nathan T Birk - Terrorizer)
LUGUBRUM: BROWN CELEBRATION
“Black metal” or no, it doesn’t get any more enigmatic and
idiosyncratic as Lugubrum. Like the unholy afterbirth of The Birthday Party,
Belketre, and Autopsy – salaciously spawned in Darkthrone’s classic
Creative Studios, natch – for more than a decade these Belgian necro-ne’erdowells
have defied all odds, all idioms and anything approaching a “rule,”
basically any sense of “sanity” and instead instituted their own
version/vision of “cult.” And it’s paid off in spades, if
not immediate comprehension and subsequent acclaim.
Not surprisingly, it ain’t getting any easier with Lugubrum’s eighth
and latest album, Heilige Dwazen. Picking up the Party-rockin’ skronk
‘n’ swing of the preceding De Vette Cuecken and taking it deeper,
more cantankerously into its kraut-rockin’ roots – Damo Suzuki-era
Can reconfigured as brown-metal assault, anyone? – with freeform sax-blow
atop the copious crust, Heilige Dwazen is a rough ‘n’ very tumble
affair. And yet, there’s a perverse sense of playfulness equally at work
here. Songs speed up and slow down teasingly, not so much out of indecision
or incompetence but rather out of instinct and arrogance; the recording’s
raw yet clear, its practitioners drunk on their own power (and much else) yet
completely functional all the same; lyrics venture further into the absurd –
titles like “The Kiss on the Anus” and “We Slyly Sucked on
Stolen Bread” should say enough, and then some – while painting
a most (dementedly) carnivalesque tapestry; and there’s even comparatively,
er, tender moments where the guitars rein in all clean ‘n’ reverbed.
Gasp!
“For me, it’s still very much a black metal album, but some
people might object to this,” alleges founding guitarist Midgaars
about LP#8. “I think De Totem was the ultimate Boersk Blek Metle experience,
but you’ll still find a lot of these elements on Heilige Dwazen. In the
end, labels are there for the people who want to sell CDs and make money. The
people who buy our stuff don’t really care; they know what Lugubrum stands
for by now. Throughout Lugubrum’s history, there’ve been a couple
of ‘style periods,’ much like the stages of a painter’s development.
Heilige Dwazen is like a subtle mix of these, with the addition of a new color.”
As for that self-appointed “Boersk Blek Metle” demi-tag, no doubt
bolstered by Midgaars’ frequent use of banjo(!), vocalist Barditus delves
deeper: “This is how we've been describing our music since De Totem
album. Until last year, the Lugubrum headquarters – the place used for
rehearsing, recording, drinking, driveling, and freaking out in general –
were situated in Lovendegem, a quite rural town near Ghent. ‘Boersk’
can be roughly translated as ‘black metal for farmers,’ the main
target group being smutty people digging in the soil all day for relatively
no use at all, reeking of manure and such...but, of course, also for other freaks
and metalheads. I have this perverted idea spinning around in my brain of even
the Dalai Lama adoring Lugubrum, and we being the first ever to get the lad
seriously drunk!”
But what about those ol' prospector outfits, from that De Totem era? Like, what
(absurd) outfits are the Lugubrum lads sporting these days – are pirate
suits not too far off on the horizon?
“That was a totally crazed photo session,” assures Barditus.
“In fact, it was for the re-release of De Totem, this time with a
thicker, heavier sound and two bonus-tracks. But when we were doing this, it
seemed perfectly normal for us to do; we just dug up some old clothes and took
out the kitchenware, as you can see in those pictures. We'll pass on the pirate
suits, though. Things can't become too funny – that's not the intention.”
“This past winter we were donning the ol’ 40-day-old underwear
‘n’ chains,” chuckles Midgaars in response to my (absurd)
query, “nothing fancy…. What you call ‘prospector’
is actually more ‘Boer’-style wear. When we were originally making
De Totem, Boersk Blek Metle was at its peak, and consequently I was heavily
inspired by the ultimate farmer battle: the Anglo-Boer war [1899-1902], in particular
the South African farmers – like me, of Dutch origin – fronted by
Paul Kruger, who gave the English such a hard time with their guerilla tactics
and Mauser Mod 96 rifles. Another connection is Kruger export beer, one of our
favorites. We never got round to adding this element the first time, so when
we did the re-release I thought these pics would be a nice touch. By the way,
these were the last pictures of us ever taken on our land in Lovendegem and
feature our joined weapon collections.”
Back to Heilige Dwazen, and deeper into the wonderful(ly absurd) world Lugubrum
inhabits. Compared to its not-inconsiderable predecessor, the swampy ‘n’
shambling De Vette Cuecken, Lugubrum’s latest LP finds the saxophone receiving
more emphasis this time, and all for the better – and above all, all the
more out there.
“Bhodidharma cannot be reined,” Midgaars says of the (skronking)
saxophonist, “he’s chaos…it’s hard enough to get
him to leave his mountain and goat farm! We just jam together for a bit, and
then we place a mic in front of him. Most of the parts were done in one take.
This is our preferred way of working, anyway, except Bhodi is just a genius.
It’s like he’s always…out there…”
Musically, then, how much more OUT THERE can Lugubrum get?
“Let me give you an example of how we work,” offers the
six-stringer. “The other week we were trying some new stuff, and I
proposed to play some slower stuff based on improvisation. Then Barditus says
he wants do make a really fast, blasting song with lots of structure. [Drummer]
Svein says he doesn’t care. So, we just start jamming and came up with
this Neil Young-type riff that works really well! You just cannot predict these
things, so it’s best not to try. Lugubrum is a combination of spontaneity,
laziness, and a hint of genius/madness.”
That about sums up Lugubrum better than I have in the past 1000 words. All things
considered, though, with the lustily spoken intro all the way through to the
alternately aggravating/whimsical ambient outro, one could successfully argue
that Heilige Dwazen is the most total Lugubrum experience yet – and yes,
the filthiest jewel in an already well-crudded-up crown.
“The outro’s great, isn’t it?” beams Midgaars.
“Svein actually made that to annoy the crowd before a live performance,
but we’ve become addicted to it. I can just picture little naked midgets
dancing to this…. The intro was read by my old friend Slosse, a bearded
pirate and well-known holy fool here in Ghent; some inspiration for the lyrics
came from his adventures. A total Lugubrum experience would be to listen to
all the albums in one sitting, but this would be very likely too much even for
those without a pacemaker, so I guess Heilige Dwazen is probably the next best
thing.”
From the Black Legions as mischievous hicks of De Totem and Al-Ghemist to the
increasingly Autopsied smoke ‘n’ stumble of Bruyne Troon to the
King-Ink-feels-like-a-bug coupling of career highpoints De Vette Cuecken and
especially Heilige Dwazen – and that’s not accounting for the omnipresent
scat fascinations or the, um, “outfits” or any of the other sundry
non-sequiturs orbiting around its (brown) world – Lugubrum has built up
a body of work that defies convention and definition, that challenges and chortles
in equal measures, that’s just fucking ace any way you look at it, BM
be damned. And although Lugubrum’s doubtlessly a stratifying lot, it’s
downright criminal these Belgians don’t carry more truck with the more-cult-than-thou
crowd and certainly beyond. Thankfully, the band’s hardly concerned with
such trivialities.
“I really don’t care,” Midgaars shrugs in conclusion.
“What’s important is that more and more people are getting to
know us, and they either love us or hate us. These are people from all over
the world from various musical and ethnical backgrounds. This I find heartwarming,
that for instance you can go to a scrap-metal dealer in Calcutta where these
eight-year-old kids are taking apart old cars in hazardous working conditions,
while from a window next door you could hear someone playing Bruyne Troon. Imagine
the effect a couple of minutes of Lugubrum can have on a child! I truly think
the perversion will safeguard it against growing up braindead and playing shit
music or working in a bank. Imagine this effect worldwide – I’m
talking about a whole new generation of highly intelligent individuals. Pissed
out of their brains, of course, but still…. I like kids, I understand
where they’re coming from. Too bad they cannot hold their beer. Monkeys
can – trained, private monkeys. Now there’s an investment for ‘ya!
Carnival music is nice….”