{"id":31517,"date":"2025-05-26T17:30:37","date_gmt":"2025-05-26T15:30:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/orkus1.com\/thats-how-it-was-at-iamx\/"},"modified":"2025-06-19T11:45:33","modified_gmt":"2025-06-19T09:45:33","slug":"thats-how-it-was-at-iamx","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orkus1.com\/en\/thats-how-it-was-at-iamx\/","title":{"rendered":"That’s how it was at IAMX"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"IAMX
IAMX in the Hamburg Markthalle on 10.05.2025<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Hamburg, Markthalle, May 10, 2025
Support: Ductape<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Androgynous and visceral between darkness and ecstasy<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Few formations surprise as consistently as IAMX<\/strong> – the guerrilla provocateurs of the electro underground. This constant tingling, this crackling in the air, this bittersweet energy that sets your soul on fire makes all the difference. And that is exactly what makes their concerts an escape into pure ecstasy. With the red-hot album \u201cFault Lines\u201d in their luggage, IAMX<\/strong> now set off on a tour of the same name across Europe and North America – and we were there live in the almost sold-out Hamburg Markthalle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The opening act: Ductape heats things up<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before Chris Corner stormed the stage, Ductape<\/strong> warmed up the place. The Turkish duo were bursting with energy: tube basses, sharp-edged synths and a vocally powerful singer who had us gripped after just a few bars. Front woman \u00c7a\u011fla stared into the audience with an ice-cold stare. Her voice – a siren of dark velvet – was both vulnerable and irrepressible. Every note a stab in the comfort zone, every word a manifesto of shadows. Guitarist Furkan literally squeezed his instrument out of the darkness, as if he wanted to squeeze the last soul out of his strings – crunching, cutting, merciless. The visual staging – sparse light, glaring and cutting – made faces appear mask-like. Shadows crept across the stage as if it were a living being itself, drenched in longing and pain. With every song, Ductape<\/strong> tore cracks in reality – and we dived in, more alive than ever. Ductape<\/strong> proved that they are far from just a random product in the cosmos of the black scene. It was a celebrated prelude to IAMX<\/strong>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Art, sex, truth!<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly there he was – Chris Corneraka IAMX<\/strong>, clad in a bizarre rabbit harness combined with Venetian flair. His appearance defied all certainty: androgynous, he unloaded his energy directly into our hearts. The first chords of \u201cThe Ocean\u201d whip us with tremendous force. His lyrics are tough and confessional, as if he were looking straight into our souls. On stage, he presents himself as a rebellious visionary: larger than life, iconoclastic – and yet frighteningly intimate. This is no superficial entertainer, but someone who makes every fiber of your body feel that life is pulsing through him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

An evening for eternity<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyone who wasn’t feeling it that evening was out of place. From the first to the last second, the Markthalle was transformed into a sacred space of ectasy. The air crackled, walls of bass vibrated through our bones. All around us we saw familiar faces of old fans who have been loyal to IAMX<\/strong> since the beginning. Together we experienced something indescribable: a mixture of exhilaration and redemption, of pain and beauty. Everyone here knew: this felt like a family secret that only we shared. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tear the mask<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

IAMX<\/strong> showed that masquerade can be more than a disguise – it became a weapon. Corner posed with sweeping gestures, looking at us without us seeing his face. The rabbit mask sat like a crown of promises. Yet he looked anything but vulnerable: his body wriggled wildly, his voice alternated between roaring rage and tender whispers. It was liberating to watch him: The end of every role was celebrated here. The audience sensed this and danced because they couldn’t help it. In this way, he challenged us: Can you feel what you never wanted to show? Dare to cry, to scream, to let it all out. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ghostly monkeys Beings in the light<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stage around Corner was minimalist. A few synthesizers stood motionless, digital projections painted bizarre patterns at the back. The light came almost exclusively from behind. Corner only appeared as a silhouette: a ghostly being in the mist of the spotlights. His contours were lost in smoke and red – no details, just the raw outline. The Venetian decorations on the rabbit mask sparkled eerily, the long ears looked like black daggers. Brief flashes of light emerged from this darkness: our eyes were glued to his hands, which twitched over the keys like a driven man. In this absolute reduction to light, shadow and sound, we were merely listeners to a ritual. Our senses exploded because every sound seemed so raw and tangible. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Between nightmare and ecstasy<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a moment, he pulled us into a dark nightmare. Tracks like \u201cSpit It Out\u201d or \u201cThe X ID\u201d had the guitar screeching, the bass drum pounding like a panicked heart. Your body twitched, your mind screamed: you know this fear. But in the next moment, the beat lifted you up again. The crowd jumped in unison, Corner stretched his arms to the sky and shouted: \u201cCan you hear me?\u201d – and we responded with a thousand throats. Songs like \u201cNeurosymphony\u201d build the intensity relentlessly: Every note was a rush of adrenaline. Then he simply took a few steps to the edge of the stage, exhaled, jumped into the audience and suddenly his songs became confessions in a minor key. When he whispered softly in \u201cAphrodisiac\u201d, your heart felt grounded and free at the same time. You hovered between dark dreams and exuberant ecstasy – and it never felt so right. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Attention, ecstasy ahead<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

IAMX<\/strong> didn’t let the tension drop for a second. After the first wave came the next: \u201cGrass Before the Scythe\u201d whipped forward with driving rhythm fanfares, \u201cBreak the Chain\u201d tore apart the cables of the electronics. Between songs, Corner got up close and personal: he reached for the hands in front, smiling wryly into the audience as if teasing his victims. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it, he let you take a quick breath – then dark melodies flew through the room with \u201cNo Maker Made Me\u201d. Attention, ecstasy ahead! For the crowning finale, IAMX<\/strong> entered the battlefield of emotions once again with \u201cBernadette\u201d and catapulted us higher. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emotional reverberations<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When \u201cMercy\u201d came out of the speakers towards the end, nobody had any weapons left to fight this feeling. Chris held the end for a long time, letting the word \u201cMercy\u201d melt away in the room. Our bodies were still heated from dancing, but silence spread around us – only the palpable heaviness of what we had experienced together. We could still feel his last syllables on our skin, his eyes on us. The music slowly receded, the mask fell to the floor, the lights flickered for the last time. And we knew: something inside us was different from now on. In love with the darkness, fragile with happiness, we could still hear our hearts longing for honesty. This finale felt like coming home. Tomorrow the world may go on as normal, but we returned home with a new heartbeat – one that will resonate for a lifetime. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Text & Photos: Thomas Friedel Fuhrmann<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Setlist:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Ocean\u201d – \u201cDisciple\u201d – \u201cThe X ID\u201d – \u201cSailor\u201d – \u201cAphrodisiac\u201d – \u201cAfter Every Party I Die\u201d – \u201cGrass Before the Scythe\u201d – \u201cBreak the Chain\u201d – \u201cI Come with Knives\u201d – \u201cNeurosymphony\u201d – \u201cExit\u201d – \u201cSpit It Out\u201d – \u201cThe Great Shipwreck of Life\u201d — \u201cThe Alternative\u201d – \u201cNo Maker Made Me\u201d – \u201cBernadette\u201d — \u201cMercy\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n