The Klinik
Plague

Among the most industrialized of the EBM scene, Klinik had the merit of inventing a unique, recognizable, and innovative sound; a frenzy of cold wave synthesizers, hallucinogenic noise, and primitive rhythms behind which the master of ceremonies Dirk Ivens skillfully writhes in his obsessive, male, macabre, and paranoid singing, which seems almost like a mix between John Balance and Jean-Luc De Meyer.

"Plague" (1987) is their peak, both productive and thematic. Away from the late-eighties clichés (the Belgian/Canadian EBM marked by Front242, Front Line Assembly, Skinny Puppy, Vomito Negro reigns, and many jump on the bandwagon), Klinik's music seems closer to an esoteric-post-industrial aesthetic of a clearly English matrix, and it does so through a journey into the deepest recesses of the human psyche, into its most hidden disturbances. Madness, anxiety, panic, insanity. There’s no room for conceptual show-offs, low-rated darkwave, or ritual-nihilist poses, the sound of Plague is the sound of the new century's plagues, the mental ones.

On one hand, the danceable wave rhythm and those funky basslines of "World Domination" make one think of yet another copycat record made in Belgium, but on the other hand, the disturbing noises, the obsessive synths, the erratic drumming, and Dirk's mentally ill singing make us realize that this is not a healthy or ordinary record at all. "Murder", short but intense, is the masterpiece: dizzying synth and tense drum machine textures provide fertile ground for Ivens' cold, detached, and minimal vocals, which this time seem to pay homage to the legendary Gabi Delgado; the distance between this Ivens and the charming, new-romantic one of the historic project Absolute Body Control is truly incredible. "End Of The Line" and "Plague" follow suit, the former being even more neurotic and with reminiscences of German minimal wave, the latter dispensing swirling basses, inhuman drones, and noisy greyness. On "No Time To Win" the atmosphere is, if possible, even darker and more deviant, significantly aided by the relentless martial beat, the trademark rising-and-falling synths, and the indecipherable monologue that runs, imperceptibly, in the background, like a drone (who mentioned Steven Stapleton?).

"Outside" and "Into Deep Water" are Belgian sound at its best, pure synthetic analogy, vintage drum machines, and a borderline air in its being shamelessly accessible yet never failing to embrace a certain machismo, a certain roughness, as well as a certain homemade lo-fi quality, more or less evident, that spills over into the most genuine experimentation and better than anything else manages to capture this now distant and never too celebrated reality. An almost electro flair in the obsessive and futuristic riff appears on "Pictures", where Marc Verhaeghen, once again, shows uncommon skills in weaving layers of gloomy synths, schizoid melodies, and sly and ambiguous noise lashes, worthy of the early Throbbing Gristle.

Only respect for Klinik, champions of pure and untainted EBM, and it’s no small feat in a movement soon infected by the accessibility of futurepop, the harsh poses, and that all-rock passion for appearing at all costs, charismatic leaders, image above all. The anonymous and aseptic Klinik will thus remain behind the scenes, amidst breakups, reunions, solo albums, and side projects, gifting us both spectacular flops and grand experiments where, besides their trademark dirty, leaden, and obsessive electronic body music, they dare with third realities, such as ambient or techno (it’s worth mentioning the underrated "Akhet", a comeback as Klinik — albeit a work by Verhaeghen alone — released in 2003 by Hands Production, one of the most advanced labels in industrial themes, as well as one of the leading promoters of underground neo-movements such as technoid or powernoise).

Genre: Electronic

Style: EBM, Industrial, Experimental

Label: Antler Records

Year: 1987