You know what I’d kill to hear? Everybody’s favorite faux-totalitarian Balkan state musical group doing a cover of Grand Funk–entitled, of course, “We’re a Slovenian Band.” It’s not like they don’t do covers–they’ve lent their unique martial industrial touch to The Beatles’ Let It Be, The Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil,” “Jesus Christ Superstar”–and the list goes on and on.
On their latest (2018) outing, Laibach–who’ve been inciting controversy since the early 1980s with their foreboding music and parodic flirtation with the iconography of nationalism, totalitarianism, and militarism–turn their attention to the soundtrack of Rogers and Hammerstein’s 1959 Broadway musical The Sound of Music, and the results are hilarious, unexpectedly accessible and even (dare I say it?) occasionally sweet.
Laibach’s decision to reinterpret the story of the Von Trappe family, who fled Austria to avoid persecution at the hand of the Nazis, is a provocative one–it takes one back to the Second World War, Slovenia’s annexation by Nazi Germany and fascist Italy, and ultimately to the expulsion of ethnic Germans from that country at war’s end. Unlike Austria, which docilely accepted Hitler’s takeover, Slovenia–or at least many of its citizens–fought back. If the Von Trappe family were the best Austria could do in the way of resistance, what did that say about Austria?
You would think that The Sound of Music would be enough of a “concept” for even Laibach, but they can’t resist tacking on a couple of Korean folk songs, which makes a twisted kind of sense given Laibach’s decision to debut their new material in North Korea in 2015. Hence the delightful album cover, on which Laibach singer Milan Fras sits surrounded by adorable North Korean tykes in frightening military uniforms. Oh, and Laibach closes the LP with the rousing welcoming speech delivered upon their arrival in North Korea by one Mr. Ryu. Seriously, you can’t make this shit up (unless they did!).
Fras’ demonic croak provides the perfect counterpoint to these much-beloved songs, as well as to guest vocalist Marina Mårtensson, who lends her lovely voice to “Do-Re-Mi,” “Sixteen Going on Seventeen,” and the playfully titled “Maria/Korea.” Fras is to Slovenia what Killdozer’s Michael Gerald was to the U.S.A.–set him to a cover and he’ll subvert the hell out of it. And Fras also sounds great in front of a children’s choir, which is one trick Gerald never thought of. As for Boris Benko, Fras’ co-vocalist, he’s got a fine voice on him, as he demonstrates on “Edelweiss” and elsewhere. Think of him as Fras’ straight man.
What surprises me most about The Sound of Music is just how accessible it is; take away Fras’ vocals and the results are shockingly listenable. Why, it’s enough to make me wonder if the group isn’t slipping. The covers on 1988’s Let It Be, for example, are such radical reworkings of The Beatles’ originals there’s no recognizing them; just listen to the crowd noise that constitutes “The Long and Winding Road.” On The Sound of Music, on the other hand, Laibach eschews total subversion in favor of instantly recognizable takes on the Rogers and Hammerstein originals.
I have my faves. On the molasses slow (most of the songs on The Sound of Music proceed at a crawl) “Climb Ev’ry Mountain,” Fras and Benko swap stanzas to wonderful effect. “Do-Re-Mi” is as lovely as a view of the Alps thanks to Mårtensson and its nonstop drone. “Edelweiss” is bottom heaven and almost funky, Fras sinisterly insinuating. “So Long, Farewell” starts like a dream thanks to the child choir and delicate piano (you even hear the sound of a cuckoo!), only to kick into overdrive as Fras comes in. And the interplay between Fras’ leering vocals and Mårtensson’s innocent coo on “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” is wonderfully perverse. You’ll never hear the song the same way again.
“The Lonely Goatherd” almost rocks, and the interplay between Fras, Benko and the children’s choir is primo. And the children’s choir works to wonderful effect on “My Favorite Things.” As for the Korean folk songs, “Airang” opens with some delicate piano work before Fras, who almost sounds soulful, comes in. The instrumental “The Sound of Gayageum” is wilder, boasts some obscure string instrument, and sounds more eastern European than Korean to me. But I’m no ethnomusicologist and what do I know? As for the “Welcome Speech,” I have no idea whether it’s for real or not, but it’s attributed to the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea Committee for Cultural Relations, and who am I to doubt the word of Laibach or the Democratic People’s Republic of North Korea? They would never tell a lie!
I love Laibach. They’re rebels and jokers at the same time, and they’ve faced very real state oppression in their time. Their motives have been questioned, and they’ve been condemned for their utilization of iconography all decent people can agree is repulsive. But anyone one who has listened to their music will agree they’re on the side of the angels of human freedom. Why? Because their ingenious mating of liberal critique and kitsch is funny, and fascists, nationalists, and militarists have no sense of humor, that’s why. Now if they’d just get around to covering “We’re an American Band.”
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
