Eric Burton
I had the pleasure of conducting a nice interview with Eric Burton. We know him from Catastrophe Ballet, his collaboration with Tilo Wolff, but also from Heartbeat Promotion. Thank you very much.
Catastrophe Ballet was founded in 1989. How did that come about, and was the name chosen because of the second Christian Death album from 1984?
In the 80s, I was stuck in Bitburg, living a typical small-town life. I wanted to create soundscapes that got under your skin – that's how it all started with Manfred Thomaser on guitar. We deliberately chose the name Catastrophe Ballet from Christian Death's second album because the two terms described a perfect choreography of pain and beauty, which became my own musical leitmotif.
In 1992, you also toured with Shadow Project (Rozz Williams!), among others. How was that tour and experience?
The Germany tour with Shadow Project and Rozz Williams was a great and also new experience in many ways. I made acquaintances that still exist today. There are some photos from that time, which can also be found on Facebook, e.g. in William Faith's posts.
From Bitburg to Hamburg, why did you ‘move’?
Bitburg was where it all began. It was there that I found personal and my first wave of artistic freedom, which I was then able to pursue and live out in Hamburg. Without Hamburg, the band wouldn't have lasted as long. The city extended our life as a band.
You have played over 400 concerts and festivals around the world with Catastrophe Ballet and, of course, met many artists. Is there a concert or festival that you particularly like to look back on?
Out of over 400 gigs, the Zillo Festival in 1998 stands out for me, when we played in front of 21,000 people – alongside The Cure and Rammstein. In general, all the festivals were unique, whether it was the early 90s WGTs or smaller events.
I think in 1995 you played a mega tour with (over) 100 cities in Europe. How was that? Tiring?
Yes, we toured all over Europe and the USA. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but also horribly awful at times. Today, I don't miss a single second of it! Back then, I couldn't get enough of it.
After so many concerts, there was only one live album. Why? And why was the Dark Nation Day Festival in Vienna chosen for it?
That question assumes that we always had everything planned. But we didn't. Everything happened as it was meant to. The album could have been recorded anywhere else in the world.
Of course, you also played in Mexico City, at the Circo Volador, right? How did you find the fans? Can you compare European, US and Mexican fans?
Circo Volador... Mexican fans dance, sing and shout louder than anywhere else. Europeans are often reverent, US fans enthusiastic, but in Mexico a friendly wildness breaks out that I had never experienced anywhere else before.
On the 2006 album "All Beauty Dies", you can see a ballet dancer. Does this have a deeper meaning?
The dancer is more than aesthetics: she symbolises the transience of this world – beauty that blossoms as it falls, only to fade away in the next moment. A silent dialogue between light and darkness.
In 2013, the band made its final appearance and then disbanded. Why?
Our last grand finale was the Wave Gothic Festival in 2013 – more than a farewell concert, it was a cathartic end after 25 years. Creative paths diverged, and we felt that the story had been told. I don't like repetition and never wanted Catastrophe Ballet to simply fade away.
Here's a text that came to mind today:
‘Rebellion in the rear-view mirror’
I can see them in front of me.
The guys with dyed black hair who are still around.
Leather vests, patches from their favourite band,
standing in front of the festival merch stand
buying a T-shirt or the fourth album
from a band that hasn't said anything new
since 1991.
And I ask myself:
Who are you trying to impress?
Yourselves... or the mirror,
in which you want to see yourselves as the beginning again,
even though it's long since been the end?
Back then –
I stood in cemeteries with shoes that were way too big,
while the soundtrack of the scene flowed through us like electricity
and the world outside was an enemy,
clearly defined,
shining in its rejection.
There weren't many of us –
but we were real.
Today –
is that still rebellion – or just nostalgia with a fog machine?
Eric Puchner wrote a story,
‘Trojan Whores Hate You Back’
– a band
that wants to do it again,
punks on tour
who think they're still dangerous.
But they're not.
They're old.
And lost.
And everything that used to be wild
now sounds like playback.
And I read that
and thought:
Shit.
That's us.
The black scene,
which once rebelled,
now queues up
for autographs from guys wearing wigs.
We celebrate the past
like a cult.
We dance like we used to,
but we don't feel it anymore.
Or do we?
Maybe I'm just angry
because I'm part of it too.
Because I don't want to let go.
Because I know:
The soundtrack of my anger
is listened to today during lunch breaks
by people
who never had to risk anything for it.
And yet...
I love this scene.
Because it saved me.
But I don't want to watch it
preserve itself
like a corpse with lipstick.
Rebellion is getting old.
But it shouldn't lie.
It shouldn't pretend
that it's still young
when it has long since
stopped fighting,
but instead pretends to itself and to people.
I'm sick of
dinosaurs
who are worshipped like gods
but no longer have anything to say.
And I'm sick of
magazines that
haven't changed since '88,
except that the pages have gotten thinner.
I want something new.
Or I want peace.
Honest peace.
Silence
with room for something real.
Because maybe that's it:
Our job today
is not to be at the forefront.
But to make room.
Not to save the scene.
But to preserve its spirit.
Not style.
Spirit.
And if you say now:
‘But I still feel all that!’
Then I say:
Show it.
But please:
without a mask,
without nostalgia,
without props.
Show me
what you have to say today.
Not just
who you were yesterday.
Because that's exactly why
I can't get these thoughts
out of my head.
Because these thoughts hold up a mirror to us,
one we've been avoiding for so long.
In 2022, ‘The Malberg Tapes’ was released (the only Catastrophe Ballet album currently available on Spotify). The cover features Malberg Castle. Is there a particular reason for this?
In 2022, we released ‘The Malberg Tapes,’ named after the old recordings we made in an old, cold, and dirty factory hall near Malberg Castle. These walls exuded a timeless melancholy – perfect for our early demos. Manfred Thomaser came up with the whole idea, so thank you for that.
Nowadays, everything is released digitally, although CDs, vinyl and sometimes cassettes are still available. But I think that nowadays, the experience of discovering records or new artists in a CD store is missing. How do you see this development?
Yes, streaming is practical. End of story. People usually remember their first physical album, but rarely their first download or stream.
You are now a manager at HARDBEAT PROMOTION, Germany's most successful promotion company for independent music, etc. How did that come about?
I wanted to help artists and bands pass on the ideas that once inspired me.
Do you miss being on stage?
I know you're expecting a clichéd answer here. But all I can say is: No, I don't miss anything at all!!!
Then there was the band Cinema Bizarre (not to be confused with Cinema Strange). How did this project come about, in which you also collaborated with Tilo Wolff, among others?
(For me, it was super interesting at the time that the band had created a ‘hype’ even before they had released any music, let alone had their first album in the shops, at least on Myspace and then Facebook a little later.)
When Tilo Wolff and I developed Cinema Bizarre, we were excited by the concept: young, eye-catching musicians, hype on MySpace even before their debut, a visual kei/manga aesthetic combined with emo rock, Depeche Mode, Sigue Sigue Sputnik, David Bowie and endless other pop references. Basically, we also wanted to see how far you can get with just an idea and a lot of cheek. The answer is: very far.
Are there any interesting (or uninteresting) plans for the future?
I never make plans. Everything happens as it should.
Then there are the ‘Hamburg questions’: HSV or St. Pauli? Bitburger or Hamburger beer? Labskaus or something hearty from the corner of Bitburg ?
➠ I live in St. Pauli, but I'm not a football fan.
➠ Free beer.
➠ I've been a vegetarian for 30 years. I don't really care about food in general.
Is there anything else you would like to share, or perhaps even confess? I would also appreciate a pleasant anecdote. Alternatively, is there a question that you have never been asked, but would like to have answered?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8mduTEvnU0
➠ Catastrophe Ballet | Spotify ♪ ♫ ♬
The interview was conducted by Michael.