Dimensions, perspectives, visions

The first ever Delerium tour. After many FLA caravans, it signals change. Signal turns to noise after seeing crowd gathered at the venue. No rivetheads, spiked hair, PVC. No tension or strong energy. Red carpet, cocktails, salón atmosphere. Among all of these exhibition pieces, Bill Leeb. Far from focus, unnoticed. Countless number of concerts and tours behind him, but this one is special, different. His appearance as well: interested, observing, wondering. People here came for music, not to meet Delerium. Their name is just that, a name - not a symbol. Signal of change in his career.
I took opportunity to discuss this new experience with living legend of EBM. We are witnessing a specific moment where an era of Front Line Assembly is being put to rest and new direction awaits Delerium. In the middle of that moment is Bill Leeb. In the middle but not in focus.

Kristy [Thirsk] made a joke that Front Line Assembly represents your masculine side, while with Delerium you’re connecting to sensual you, to feminine side of Bill Leeb. Care to comment?

<he laughs>Yes, it even might be true! <smile> But I think that it is more of trying to make something different than FLA. You can not go all your life with strong, idealistic music. We’re too old for that sound, and we don’t feel as a part of the scene any more. As a matter of fact, we feel alienated from the industrial scene for many years now. And I think that shows on our recent albums. We make them for ourselves and they sound as we want them to. As for Delerium, we could continue to make music like that until we’re sixty years old. It is something more lasting, and I have to admit, more appealing to wider audience. And we don’t have to worry about anything but music.

But when you look back now, how do you see yourself, as a man who defined electro/industrial scene with FLA or a man behind Delerium?

Well, both. I am fascinated by people, artists especially, who left their mark in history. I am reading loads of books about lives of artists and in every city I am in, I spend hours in museums, sitting there in silence, thinking. There were so many people who risked everything they had, being humiliated by their contemporaries, but stood to their work. Also, many were selling their art at city streets for almost nothing, just to buy food for the day. Now they’re immortal. That kind of sacrifice amazes me.

You have been making music for over twenty years now. When you look back to period, let’s say, of “Initial Command” compared to today, how do you feel?

Back then, I just wanted to make music. It was all ideas, wanting to create something. The drive and idealism of the scene at that time was amazing. We didn’t care about sales, record deals, money; speaking of “Initial Command”, I remember us packing the cassettes in paper bags, putting stamps on and sending them. We made no money off that album, and didn’t get paid for the first European tour. We slept in a backroom of a record store in Brussels and ate what people gave us. We did that tour with Klinik and they were on stage without shirts, just painted red crosses on their chest and they used huge horn to signal the start of their concert. Marc [Verhaegen] was amazing, energetic and full of ideas. It was so much different from now. Now every kid has computer in his room and makes music thinking first about record deals and putting their album out. I don’t think they would sleep under the bridge or, I don’t know.. banging tin barrels with drumsticks. I simply don’t see that idealism in industrial scene, that is why I am not part of it anymore.
Now, I am here with Delerium; completely different crowd, different style. I don’t think anyone knows who I am. Isn’t that bizarre? <laugh> They have no idea about FLA or me. Look at the people! It’s amazing, no one is wearing black! <laugh> What do you think about people here tonight?