About three weeks ago an acquaintance of mine inquired, why there are no SOPOR AETERNUS concerts. This actually happens to be one of those persistently reoccuring (and rather annoying) questions, so ... once and for all ... let me try to explain.
 
Umm, where do I begin? It always confuses me when I have to explain the obvious. But, OK ...

The only way for a SOPOR live performance to actually make any sense at all would be, if the performance, the material in question, had been written

specifically

for the stage. But then again, this would bring me back to point one: I don't like concerts. In general.

No. 1

I don't like concerts

In general. Period. And I don't like people. (Yes, that includes you. Sorry). This is simply how things are.
 

No. 2

It wouldn't make any sense

The first thing you have to understand is that SOPOR is therapy. Self-therapy to be precise. It was/is something I had/have to do in order to ... well ... NOT end up killing myself. It is magic(k)al, spiritual work ... a perpetual stock-taking ... a constant analysis ... it is crisis & observation ... invocation & exorcism. It is a journey to the depths of the subconscious, the awakening of dead and/or sleeping things.
 
The purpose of this is to understand and to heal. To put things (well,

me

) back into balance (as far as this is possible in one lifetime).
 

It is based on truth. Truth above all.

Art and life

cannot

be separated. They are ONE. They are synchronistically linked. Magic(k) flows, BECAUSE everything is based on truth.
 
Each album that comes out of this is like a funeral. A tombstone. The idea is to get something out of my system. Once that is achieved, I move on.
 

No. 3

It is private

Singing is a very intimate thing. To me anyway. I would never do this in front of other people. For the same reason, why I don't eat in public ... or take a shit.
 
Each song is only performed once, and that is in the studio for the actual recording. I never rehearse. I never know what is going to happen once the recording starts. The intimacy of the studio is the sacred space where I speak the words for the first and only time.
 
The mere thought of repeating what I created in the seclusion of the studio on a stage in front of people is not only ridiculous ... - it is almost a perversion.