Faust - Chronicles of a Disconnection

CHRONICLES OF A DISCONNECTION

by Antonio Ciarletta

On the occasion of the release of “Disconnected”, a collaboration between Faust and Nurse With Wound, we got back in touch with Jean Hervé Peron to get his thoughts on the album and on the band's new course. As accommodating as ever, Jean Hervé spoke freely about everything, holding back a few diplomatic silences but not sparing a couple of jabs at his former bandmate Joachim Irmler...

I'd like to start by talking about Faust's most recent period. What pushed you, Zappi and Irmler to reform the group at the start of the '90s?

Ooops, false start. I won't comment on this question.

Because in the '80s you weren't active. What happened?

We were thrown out by Virgin, because of our bad behaviour I suppose, or because we weren't doing what Richard Branson wanted us to do. So we finished our last tour without Sosna and Irmler, who had already left the group. I fell in love with a beautiful New Zealand woman, so I stayed in London for a while. I'd like to see her again, she was a good friend. Then we got back together in southern Germany, where we organised a few fairly obscure festivals and concerts - we didn't use the name "Faust", but we were playing... in the end we were active, but we avoided the press and the press ignored us (laughs, ed.)

The “new” Faust have an intense live schedule, with a great response from audiences. What's changed in the way you relate to them, compared to the '70s?

Zappi and I have always loved playing for audiences and sharing our music with them... not Irmler. Now that Irmler is no longer in the group, things are easier and more fun. We help each other out, we accept and support each other's ideas, we have fun, fun, fun (repeated three times, ed.). There are no more internal conflicts. We play improvised, dada, abstract, fun stuff. And we're having the great opportunity to work with people of real substance like Amaury Cambuzat, James Johnston, Geraldine Swayne, The Ectogram, Colin Potter, Geoff Leigh, Lucienne Lassalle, Andrew Liles, Ken Matsutani, Rye, Zoe Skoulding. They share our love of improvised music and let us take part in their art, which inspires us enormously.

Zappi and I don't pay much attention to money. In the past all this wasn't possible without arguments, without getting into conflict, without bad vibes coming up

“Rien” from 1994 is a great album. What had changed in your approach to composition compared to the '70s? What role does improvisation play?

I have to admit that in the past I wasn't too comfortable with improvisation. Then Zappi helped me find confidence in that kind of situation, and showed me how to enjoy improvised music. In turn, he accepted my desire to play more finished pieces. Now we're able to combine both approaches and it comes naturally to us. We mix improvisation with old Faust material depending on what we feel like doing at the moment of the show, and then we talk about it with our musicians. We have a completely free approach to it, and I think the audience can feel that.

The current incarnation of Faust includes Amaury Cambuzat. How did you get in touch? Did you know Ulan Bator's music?

Olivier Manchion of Ulan Bator came to see us at a few Faust shows, in Cologne I think, in 1996. Before that I didn't know Ulan Bator. We played together with them (Zappi and I, not Irmler) in Metz in the spring of 1997, at Musique Volantes, in a tiny venue. Later, in 1997, when I left the group, Ulan Bator supported Faust for a few concerts. In 2004, Zappi and I were back together in Faust, and Zappi suggested I ask Ulan Bator (Olivier and Amaury) to join us again. So we went on tour together and it was a success. Later Olivier left the group because he became a father and started a family. Amaury is a great musician and a reliable person, until he recently decided to leave the group without giving us any explanation, one day before our UK tour

What was Cambuzat's role in Faust?

He played guitar and keyboards, and sometimes sang. He brought a lot of good vibes into the group.

Kraut-rock. Do you think it was an appropriate term to describe German musicians and bands of the '70s? Does kraut-rock exist as a genre in 2007?

In the '70s, "kraut-rock" was used to describe a type of music (mainly German) that the English couldn't understand at first. Then they started loving it enormously. The "Krauti" refused to draw on any form of American rock. That's how we managed to create a truly distinctive style, one that broke away from those clichés. They called it, precisely, "kraut".

Nowadays, times are different and "kraut" doesn't mean anything.

Let's talk about "Disconnected". What does a new Faust album mean in 2007?

I don't know what it means to the rest of the world, but for Faust it means a lot: it's our first studio work since "You Know Faust" from 1997! After that we only released live and remix albums. We invited Amaury to join us in the studio for 5 days. We all had tremendous energy coming off our last tour, which was very successful, so we decided to record a lot of new material. ALL of it made up of improvisations.

What does the term "Disconnected" refer to? Why that name?

I don't want to steal your imagination... you tell me what you feel when you say "Disconnected". Do you feel uneasy? Do you like being "connected"? Or would you rather be "disconnected"? Actually, the choice of name was spontaneous, and the word doesn't refer to any specific meaning. I do think it's quite evocative, though.

Do you think "Disconnected" is a kraut-rock album? How would you describe it?

Yes, absolutely... it's pure kraut-rock!

"Disconnected" is part of a broader project that involves presenting new works made with different producers/collaborators. This one was made with Nurse With Wound (Steve Stapleton and Colin Potter), and it's extremely subjective, open to interpretation...

The next one, which will follow shortly, will be "objective", like a documentation. Don't ask me to describe my music... "Disconnected" is like a hot bath, like getting lost in the forest, like waking up early, like scratching someone's head. Ok!?

"Disconnected" is, precisely, a collaboration with Nurse With Wound, who is a huge Faust fan - Whose idea was it to collaborate on making a record?

The idea was Fabio Vercoquin's, an Italian music expert and a personal friend of mine. He always wanted Faust to collaborate with Nurse With Wound. Faust's friends on our forum (www.faust-pages.com) repeatedly asked/suggested that I collaborate with Nurse With Wound. So I was convinced.

What can you tell me about the album's composition process? What was it like working with Stapleton?

Composition process? Okay, you play music your whole life, so you go into a studio where, again, you play music. That's it! The music plays in your head and you let it pass from your head into the instruments...

It was extremely easy to collaborate with Steve and Colin. They're both crazy and skilled. We didn't need to talk, we were on the same wavelength.

Faust had a huge influence on industrial music. What did you think when, in the '80s, some industrial and neue deutsche welle bands took up your ideas?

Hmmm... I never even noticed (laughs, ed.).

Let me ask you a couple of provocative questions... The first: in issue 276 of The Wire there's a rather irritated letter from Hans Joachim Irmler, in which he claims that you and Zappi formed a new incarnation of Faust without explaining anything to him. What can you tell me about this situation?

No comment.

The second: on the Nurse With Wound website, Stapleton and Colin Potter say they were "amazed" and "appalled" to find a limited edition of the album with an extra track. Is that the reason for the two versions of "Disconnected"?

Look, it was a funny, playful misunderstanding. Nurse With Wound and Faust are extremely anarchic musicians who have deep mutual respect for each other. Someone misread the joke... Go check the Nurse With Wound website, and you'll see it's all been cleared up.

What are your future plans?

Breathing, and moving what I have inside.

Thank you very much, Jean Hervé...

Thank you and your readers for the interest you have in our music. I sent you a copy of "Disconnected", so you'll be able to find the answers to some of the questions you asked.

(12/09/2007)

***

ACROBATICS OF A KRAUT-ROCKER

by Filippo Neri

Faust are currently active in two distinct reincarnations. Of the two, the one involving Jean Hervé Peron and Werner "Zappi" Diermaier is the lineup that can boast the greater number of original members of the band (the other features only Hans-Joachim Irmler).

Unable, for technical and time reasons, to conduct the interview at their concert in Catania (their only Italian date, at the So Far Festival), I arranged with Peron to send him my questions via e-mail. And here is the result of this "digital" chat.

Jean Hervé, I’d like to start by taking a step back in time, if that’s alright with you. How did your calling for music come about?

My mother always sang and my father played the violin… It was completely natural for me to be drawn to the world of sound. We lived in a small village and my family was quite involved in community life, so I was in constant contact with bands, musicians, festivals, dances, parades and even the church (both my parents, my brother and my sister were communists! So why did they take me to church?)

Would you like to tell me about your first approach to music as a musician?

By singing! As a child. At every family event – weddings, communions (here we go with the church again!), Christmases, funerals – they always asked me to sing: so I’d stand up on the table and sing, no guitar, nothing else: just my child’s voice. I remember everyone would stop chatting and listen to me. Now, at a lot of concerts, people keep talking and drinking while I sing. That makes me sad.

Later on my mother forced me to study music theory – much gracias amor-mama. So I didn’t learn any instrument at first, just theory.

Eventually I was asked to choose an instrument: I picked the horn and then the trumpet. I played in my music school’s bands: one with a “classical” repertoire and the other was a marching band!

Finally I put together my own group: a dixieland combo.

I taught myself guitar and started other bands: rock and roll, folk.

One day, I told my friends I was going to leave my hometown and wouldn’t come back until I became famous (smiles)… I left Cherbourg and set off for Hamburg. Not long after, I was playing in a group that would later become Faust.

What drew you to this profession?

The answer is complicated, and you never really know why you do one thing rather than another.

Partly because for me it’s a wonderful feeling to give music to others, to share it, to make it.

Partly because I’m an egocentric and I like it when things happen because of me.

Partly because it was fun, with the girls, the drugs and the travelling.

Partly because I can express things that are good for me or good for others.

I'm a comedian: that makes me happy and unhappy at the same time.

The legend of Faust began in Wümme, the place where you spent your first years in near-total isolation. What was Wümme like?

An extremely small village, made up of just a few buildings – some were farms, one of them was a kind of bar – all scattered along a long, straight road. The building we lived in had previously been a school. Now it's a retirement home. Could that be a sign? (smiles)

What kind of atmosphere did you experience there, both on a human level and in terms of technique and composition?

"Humanly" speaking, we lived in partial isolation. Every so often we'd get a visit from Uwe (Nettelbeck, the creator/producer of Faust, ed.), or from friends. No TV, no radio. We liked it that way. We wanted it that way. Every so often there were orgies with women and drugs, then we'd spend weeks eating macrobiotic food and doing musical experiments.

During the Wümme period we lost all contact with reality, both because of the situation and because of the drugs. It's a beautiful and an ugly thing at once. It was necessary and pointless at the same time.

The relationship between the members of Faust was obviously an intense one. There were six of us musicians – Arnulf Meifert, Gunther Wüsthoff, Hans-Joachim Irmler, Jean-Hervé Peron, Rudolf Sosna and Werner Diermaier – plus an engineer, Kurt Graupner. And two or three dogs. Later on, our roadie Ruud Bosma joined too.

Sometimes it was like a monastery, other times like a brothel.

Looking back on it now, I have to admit I had a great time, really. I was completely happy, completely fulfilled.

We very often lived naked, I thought we were all brothers... It took me decades to realize that wasn't actually the case.

Technically it was a paradise too: we were equipped with a truly amazing recording studio and we had the best sound engineer in the world! I can't give you details because I never cared much about technical niceties, but yes, we were privileged.

This period also saw some important collaborations...

Yes. Tony Conrad, Slapp Happy, Tomorrow's Gift, Moon, Yello... do you know them? I'm sure you know Tony Conrad and Slapp Happy. And Yello too. Moon were a band that showed up in Wümme one day: they played rock. They asked me to sing, but it didn't work out... I don't really remember much about it...

Tomorrow's Gift were a band you might know under the name "Release Orchestra", though we didn't actually collaborate with them, they just recorded and then left. They were friends of ours. Let me think, who else?

For me, the most interesting recordings were the ones with Mr. Conrad, they shaped and influenced my later attitude toward music.

In 1973 the split with Polydor happened, and you were forced to abandon the studios that, I imagine, you had come to feel were your own, after working there for so long and so closely. How did the move to Virgin come about?

You know, I'm French. I didn't understand much about how things were going, and I wasn't really interested either. Still, I realised we'd run out of money the moment we started eating dog food, which I actually liked. Then I noticed everyone was leaving, so I left too.

I confess I didn't understand what was happening: too many drugs. In the end Wümme became a sad place, the equipment disappeared, some of us had already left. I think I stayed right up until the very last minute with our roadie Ruud Bosma. But maybe I'm wrong, it's been too long.

I remember we had to play for Simon Draper (a Virgin scout at the time).

I remember that shortly afterwards we were at the Manor (Virgin's recording studio in Oxfordshire) with Mike Oldfield… then we set off on tour around the UK, and I lived there with a New Zealand woman.

How did your composing habits and your lifestyle change?

Well, we had so many ideas left over from the Wümme period that picking them back up and working on them was absolutely no problem. Even now, every so often, I think about how many Wümme ideas were never fully developed!

When we arrived at the Manor studios, we organised ourselves as usual: some themes improvised and recorded live, and some “songs” that we remembered.

From isolation to sharing a studio with music royalty. Does any particular episode come to mind, maybe even a funny one?

Yes, Mike Oldfield used to often get down on all fours under the table where we ate and bark at us. So we'd kick him, which was actually what we did to our dogs when they barked at us. What a ridiculous game, I really don't know why he barked! English humour? An inferiority complex?

But also meeting Kevin Ayers and Daevid Allen, meeting Chris Cutler…

Playing naked in London, with a broken arm in Oslo, leaving the stage amid flames in Wales… the usual rock and roll lifestyle, I suppose.

The first work released for Virgin was “The Faust Tapes”. Could you explain the process that produced such an extreme work?

I have no idea. As I said before, I didn't care much about that side of Faust. I was more interested in making music, women and dogs.

Was the decision to sell it at the price of a single imposed by the label?

I wouldn't know. I suppose it was an ingenious publicity stunt! It worked. We sold a lot and immediately achieved a certain notoriety.

Staying with the early years of your career, there are strange legends circulating about your first live shows. I'm thinking in particular of the one presenting your first LP in Hamburg…

A beautiful flop. Actually we weren't very well prepared technically: we wanted quadraphonic sound on stage, but we'd never actually tested it beforehand.

The whole thing turned out really "dada": a wonderful audience in Hamburg, the entire pop press world, whole truckloads of equipment, and in the end nothing worked… fantastic! One of the greatest non-performance/deconstruction events of all time.

After the brief interlude with Virgin, not before putting out a wonderful record like "Faust IV", you disappeared completely from the scene. Was that your own decision, or did you in some sense feel forced to drop everything due to the demands of the record market?

I'm really glad you appreciate "Faust IV".

We were simply kicked out by Virgin! We refused any compromise and they got rid of us… Rudolf left, and with him three quarters of the Faust spirit vanished. We finished a tour without him, bringing in Uli Trepte and Peter Blegvad (former members of Guru Guru and Slapp Happy respectively, ed.), and that's about it!

Later we went to Munich to record together, but Virgin rejected the tapes and also refused to pay the studio bill, which led to a few complications…

Practically nothing is known about what you were up to between 1973 and 1990. Tell me how you managed to survive…

I had regular respiratory and intestinal activity.

What memories do you have of Rudolf Sosna?

He's a genius. He is Faust. When he played, he had a golden aura around him. At the end of his life he was alone, we abandoned him because it was hard to deal with his illness. I should have helped him. I'm sorry, Rudolf, forgive me.

1990 is the year of your big comeback, the Hamburg and London recordings are extraordinary documents. Table of the Elements' interest also led to "Rien", with the chance to collaborate with sacred monsters of the calibre of Jim O'Rourke and Keiji Haino. How did it all come about?

The Hamburg concert happened because Zappi and I decided to start playing again. The whole thing came together within forty-eight hours. London followed in the same spirit.

Afterwards we were contacted by Jeff Hunt (the boss of Table of the Elements, ed.), I'm not sure what his real motivations were, never mind… anyway we talked about a series of concerts in the United States, so in the end Zappi and I set off on tour. We met AMM (great musicians), Keiji (Haino, ed.), Gate, Sonic Youth and, of course, Steven Lobdell. I asked Steven to join Faust for the subsequent European tours.

Jim O'Rourke handled the mixing on the album "Rien", which was essentially a collection of live recordings from the US tour plus a studio session with Keiji, Steven, Thurston Moore, Michael Morley, and who else? Jim did a great job on that occasion.

Let's finally get to the present. You've reunited with Zappi after a few years apart. A new tour, two new partners – I'm obviously referring to Olivier Manchion and Amaury Cambuzat – a new box set. If I'm not mistaken, this is a collaboration with roots going back to the 90s…

Yes, Zappi and I were invited to play in Metz in 1996 by Olivier and Amaury, members of Ulan Bator. I like these two guys. It's great playing with them. They're sincerely and deeply committed to their art.

After eight years apart from Faust, Zappi and I sought each other out on the very same day, at the very same minute! We recorded a session called "Trial And Errors 2005". I like it.

We've kept working together ever since. He has his own interests (he makes videos and records music in his basement studio), I have mine (now with www.art-errorist.de), and I have fun.

In a recent radio interview I heard you sounding particularly amused by an anecdote: you're universally known as a kraut band, but right now you're three Frenchmen and an Austrian…

Oh yes: apparently we're a "German band", which always makes me laugh…

As far as I'm concerned, I feel more than anything like a citizen of this planet, and I don't really care that much where people think I come from.

I'm happy I don't have to learn French, and I'm glad I was born in this place, but, that aside, what nationality will I be when I'm reborn?

Is there a place you feel particularly attached to as a band?

Yes! I want to tour, always, all around the world!

I attended your show in Catania, the third Faust gig in Italy, though I believe it was your first time there.

You're wrong! Back in my "beatnik" years, around 1969, I played thousands of times on the streets all over Italy, and did pretty well for myself (smiles). But of course you're right, Faust played in Italy two other times without me.

What did you feel? Is it different from playing in the Scottish Highlands, as opposed to Germany or anywhere else?

Catania was both heaven and hell for me. It would take many words to describe every nuance of the emotions I felt. I can tell you I was deeply moved by the warmth of the people, their attention and their encouragement. The audience was simply amazing and carried us through the whole show. The organization, though, tested my patience quite a bit. (smiles)

We've dealt with every kind of audience since we started out as Faust: I'd put Catania in the top-ten. The first five rows were so enthusiastic, they made me forget every worry I had in my head.

Audiences at extreme latitudes (both north and south) seem to be far more enthusiastic, far more emotional...

In general, I can say that Germany isn't the ideal place for Faust... maybe Germans just don't like us that much.

On that occasion it was very exciting to be in the front row, taking part - even physically - in your show. Sparks, the blinding light of the welder, torn-off sheet metal. In your view, is destruction a cathartic process that exhausts itself in the act, or is it capable of generating something else?

I don't understand the question... I'll try to answer and hope it helps.

I think conflicts can be generative.

I think destruction is the beginning of construction, which is in turn the beginning of destruction, which is the beginning...

I build sounds when I destroy things...

In any case my goal isn't to destroy. It's more a feeling of "insertion", "getting closer", "becoming one"... does that help?

Yes, you've perfectly grasped the spirit of the question.

Staying on the subject, your most recent shows offer a fairly balanced mix of improvisation and old hits. Looking ahead, are you more inclined to keep going down this road, focusing on live performance and improvisation, or will there be room to go back to composing in the studio?

Yes. It's fine to play songs from the back catalogue because that's what the audience wants, and it's right to satisfy that wish. For me too it's really enjoyable to play old songs while trying to inject new life into them, to recreate them, in a way.

On the other hand, improvisation is an essential part of our music. We can't do without it.

Personally I really like the idea of collaborating on stage with other musicians, it gives our performances a touch of unpredictability.

Is there an album, among your entire discography, that you feel particularly attached to, or that you simply like best?

You Know FaUSt

It's the last Faust album.

It was played with joy, fun, friendship, intensity. It was recorded by friends, produced by our beloved wives. Distributed by a label that belonged to our beloved wives. The music was really good. The spirit is that of Faust, just like on the first album.

So "You Know FaUSt" closes the story of Faust.

What follows are just Faust's offshoots. They are what they are, but they are not Faust.

What are you currently listening to?

All sorts of promo CDs from the artists who'll be taking part in my avant-garde festival, which will be held from September 1st to 3rd this year (2006, in Schiphorst, a small town halfway between Hamburg and Lübeck, ed.).

Are there any artists you'd like to collaborate with?

Many. Animals or things too. I can't name them all. Names don't matter.

A question a lot of people have probably been asking you lately. What do you think about the possibilities offered by digital technology?

Fantastic. It took me a while to realize the potential of digital technology, at least for processing music. For composition? It's definitely not "my cup of tea", but I recognize the legitimacy of creating with computers. Musical instruments, after all, have always been a byproduct of technology: now we live in the age of microchips and processors… let's "digitalize" ourselves! (the pun is untranslatable, ed.).

What about file sharing online? Do you think it's harmful to the record industry, or on the contrary, useful for spreading music?

For now I accept the fact that it can't be avoided, and I'm not worried about how much it might hurt my earnings, for the simple reason that I don't make money from my music (smiles).

Sometimes I try to convince myself that it's a good thing our music can be shared by lots of people who don't necessarily have to pay for it… at least until the car insurance bill or the taxes arrive…

Will you be coming back to Italy?

I think we'll be back in Italy very soon. How do you say it? "Que sera sera".

By the way, I have a question for you: does it mean "whatever will be, will be" or "whoever will be, will know"?

It means "whatever will be, will be". Thank you so much Jean Hervé!

Thank you for your interest in our music.

translation by Elisa Goolvart

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google