Max HeyraudFor Chris Liebing, music was a cultural rupture, a personal refuge, and a lifelong act of belief in sound itself, shaped by early family resistance, formative underground influences, and a decades-long commitment to techno’s rawest, most uncompromising form.
When you think of techno, when you think of Frankfurt, and when you think back to the golden era of hard techno, the real stuff, only one name truly stands out: the formidable Chris Liebing. In an industry that is notoriously cut-throat, where new artists constantly emerge, others fade, and only a few ever break through, to sustain a presence at the highest level for over three decades is a rare anomaly. It speaks to more than just talent, though Liebing has that in abundance; it speaks to passion, guts, determination, and authenticity. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve, releasing timeless records that still sound as powerful today as they did back in 1997.
The word “pioneer” gets overused, but in Chris’s case it fits. He and his label CLR fundamentally reshaped what techno could be in the late ’90s and early 2000s, and he continues to carry that legacy forward, championing uncompromising techno on the world’s biggest stages. His sound remains rich, dirty, pounding, and relentlessly driving. Liebing speaks openly and honestly about everything, from his youth, when techno wasn’t widely accepted, to his ongoing struggles with imposter syndrome, to the sense of urgency and importance he felt around his work at the turn of the millennium, helping define a pivotal moment in techno’s evolution.
Now, still riding the momentum of his debut album Evolver, he reflects on the importance of long-form expression and fully inhabiting the moment, both as an artist and as a dancer in the crowd. For him, it’s about dissolving into the experience, losing yourself on the dancefloor, and understanding techno and club culture not just as music, but as a vital human experience.
Growing up, it feels like pursuing a career in music, especially electronic music, was somewhat frowned upon in your family. Can you tell me a bit about that experience?
Well, I was the youngest in the family. My brother was a big rock fan, a bit of prog rock, psychedelic rock, things like that. Even though some of these productions already had synthesisers in them, when the new wave came, the New Romantics, or EBM, came into the picture, he felt that music would lose its soul using a synthesiser.
That was a point of discussion we’ve had, but I guess I was born at the right moment to really enjoy that change in music.
I also get the impression that music became something of a safe space for you. Can you talk about that connection and whether you still relate to music in the same way today?
Oh, I totally do. Music is an absolutely safe space. You can create your own little universe in which you can enjoy the moment, and nothing else really matters.
Imposter syndrome seems to have been a significant challenge for you as a young artist. Where do you think those insecurities came from, and why did they affect you so deeply?
I don’t really know. Maybe because I grew up in a really small village, and was the youngest in the family. I kind of, still feel like this today. It never really left me fully. Maybe it’s sometimes helpful too, because it’s a humbling experience as well, too, because it’s a humbling experience.mid-90s
You’ve often cited the Birmingham techno scene. Artists like Female, Surgeon and Regis as major influences. Do you remember when you first discovered that raw, almost tactile sound, and what drew you into it?
I found my first raw-sounding English records from the label Downwards in the mid-90s. And what I loved about them was that they were not so polished. Most of the Belgian and German productions seemed to be very polished, too clean in a way, too sanitised, while this English scene was somehow able to include a certain rawness that gave it a lot more authenticity, soul, and vibe.
I was wondering about your early days as a resident at Omen and Tresor. That must have been a special time. Can you tell me a bit about that era, and whether you realised how important it would become in shaping techno culture?
At the time, of course, I knew that Omen and Tresor were two of the leading clubs in Europe, but there wasn’t such a big techno scene. You have to look back; it wasn’t anything like today. You had a lot of clubs in mid-sized cities as well, and they had a lot of techno nights. So as a DJ, you were travelling in your car to a lot of places, but Omen and Tresor were always a little bit more outstanding. Mostly because, of course, they were in big cities like Frankfurt and Berlin and drew a more international crowd, and therefore had a bit more of a financial ability to book international artists. It was very special, and I was very much aware of it, but nobody knew back then how it would shape techno culture in future. That is something that you can only look back and realise, like, wow, something really meaningful started back then.
Looking back, the early CLR catalogue feels timeless, with artists like Pounding Grooves, Hardcell, Andre Walter, Jamie Bissmire, Umek and Ben Sims all contributing. Did you realise at the time just how special that period was?
It was the same as with the clubs. All these artists were really inspired, passionate people who really did all this for the love of the music. Maybe even more for the love of the music than anyone still does today. Back then, the DJ scene wasn’t as developed as it is now. It was really important to release music back then, and it was way more appreciated, which has mostly been replaced by social media these days. It was a very special time. And I guess because there was a foundation of all these people who were so passionate about music that the chance of it becoming timeless was a given. Time now showed us it is. But of course, back then, I didn’t really think about how things would be considered 20 or 30 years onwards.
The “Analogon” EP remains one of my favourite releases from that era. Do you remember what gear or setup you used when producing it?
Oh, we had a few old Roland synthesisers, some obscure stuff. Soundcraft Ghost mixing desk with 32 channels, which was our pride, and Genelec speakers. Also working with the Space Echo and, of course, 909s, 303s. Not so much in that ‘Analogon’ EP, but that was also that era.
CLR itself took a long break before returning. What made you decide it was the right time to bring it back?
I was just receiving more and more amazing tracks again, hearing so much great techno that I felt like I really wanted to restart the label. I missed the label work for a while. I put it on ice because I was working on my Mute albums for a period of 4 years. And those albums meant a lot to me; I was very passionate about them and put a lot of work into them.
During that time, I also wasn’t all that amazed by the music that had been released. I found a lot of motivation, passion, and most of all, fun in running the label again. It’s been a blast since then. I’m so happy to be in touch with so many amazing artists and doing this work. I really missed it.
And now that it’s active again, releasing music from artists like DJ Dextro, Klint, The Southern and Deas, are you enjoying curating and pushing the sound forward into this new era?
I guess I answered that in the last question, but let me double down on it. It is really an amazing time, and there are so many amazing artists out there. The sad thing about it, though, is that all those passionate musicians that you work with do not really get the recognition they deserve because they put more energy and passion into their music rather than their social media content, and I wish people would focus more on the music than on flashy pictures of 30-second clips out there.
This is your first full solo techno LP. Why was now the right time?
I don’t know. I didn’t really think about this. I have had a really nice studio for about 3 years now. A studio set up here in Switzerland, in my new home. While building the studio, it always made me feel like I wanted to work on music at the same time, so I did, I started collecting more music, and I felt like it was time to make a techno album.
It feels like the right moment because, musically, we’re back to a place where I feel the vibe of the late 90s, early 2000s, yet with a modern touch. Everything came together, so it made sense to me to work on a new album.
What does releasing something long-form mean to you artistically?
Oh, I love albums. I grew up with albums, and I would still make them and release them even if nobody wants to listen to them. It’s so much fun to work on a project like this, where you think of a rough concept, and it evolves over time, the music comes together, and you give people a journey over maybe an hour, an hour fifteen.
Putting that together is just this extra fun thing to do rather than releasing 12 inches. It’s kind of the next step to really tell your story, to really bring your point across musically of what you’re trying to do. You can show more depth in your thinking and the story you want to tell.
The album feels like a reflection of your journey, from a child deeply infatuated with music in an environment that perhaps didn’t fully nurture that passion, to becoming an internationally respected touring artist, with the title Evolver summing up that story. Is that a fair assessment?
That is actually a pretty fair assessment. The title ‘Evolver’ actually came very last. The album was already done, and I didn’t really have a name, and then I realised basically the same thing as what you’re saying there. The music was really giving me the feeling of the late 90s and early 2000s, when I started, maybe even earlier, there are influences of music that I was listening to when I was 11 to 13 years old. And I brought all of this together into one little thing. A lot of what inspired me over all those years is in that album.
There are also a lot of collaborations on the new album, with artists like Charlotte de Witte, Speedy J, The Advent and Luke Slater. Can you share some insight into how those collaborations came together, and your thoughts on collaboration more broadly?
I think collaborations are great if you have a shared vision and you can achieve something that you couldn’t do alone. Especially when you find the person with whom you can create something that’s better than if somebody were doing it alone.
The collaborations came together all very organically on this album. I worked with Charlotte de Witte on the first release for her own label, KNTXT, so I knew she would be up for returning that favour. When I thought about the album, I wanted to have some good acid and maybe a nice vocal from her again.
Planetary Assault System – we’ve been playing a lot of back-to-back sets together, he played an acid intro one time where I asked him, “Wow, what is this?”, he said he didn’t know; he never released it, so I was like “Let’s do this” Give me that acid bit, I’ll build the track and send it over to you, and then you do something.
The Advent – I was working on a track that really reminded me of an old Advent track. And I sent it over to him and was like, “Cisco, what do you think?” He actually went to dig out his old samples, and we threw this together.
Speedy J – we were working on a Collabs 3000 EP for Nova Mute a year ago. And while we were working on that, we made some recordings, which I took with me, and at one point I was listening to it and was like, “Jochem, there’s some great stuff in there. Can I throw something together, send it over to you, and maybe we can have a collaboration on the album?” and he agreed.
Alten Stuben Modular Ensemble – we were sitting in a ski hut in Oberlech with Daniel Miller, Terrence Fixmer, and Pascal Gabriel, and we just fiddled with loads of different bits of modular equipment together. I recorded everything, went back to the studio, and made something.
All those collaborations, like the whole album, just kind of happened and came together naturally.
Let’s talk about the current wave of hard techno. It’s been widely discussed, but given CLR’s role in shaping the genre in the late ’90s, how do you feel about its direction today?
As with every trend, it becomes more and more commercialised, more mainstream and therefore more shallow. I was never fond of too-hard or super-fast beats. There was always a limit for me; I’ve never really been a big fan of gabber or hardcore, for example.
When I see the trend of hard techno, where old songs get sampled and just looped in a different way, and you hear those vocals. I find it mostly rather cheesy, to be honest. There’s some good stuff; there are definitely some good artists around who do that really well. But most of the time I ask myself why we can’t do something more forward-thinking rather than rehashing old stuff and putting some old sampled vocals in there to make it more commercial.
Although it’s funny I say that, when I just made a whole album based on the 90s and 2000s, so maybe I should just not judge in any way.
Do you think audiences should have a deeper awareness of techno’s roots, or is evolution simply part of the culture?
I’m not sure about the audience, they just enjoy themselves. They don’t need to go to university or school to learn certain things; I don’t really expect that of them. They really should follow what they love and go listen to what they like. But I think it’s different for artists.
I heard a very cool statement by a Jazz musician in a documentary that I saw recently. And he said, if you’re a young artist in a certain genre and you don’t know the history of it, how are you going to be able to push this forward if you don’t know where it came from?
And I think there’s a lot of truth in that. I wish a lot of artists would go to school and university and learn a little bit about the history and about other artists, because you could learn how to push your boundaries even further.
A lot of things I see today make me wonder if we didn’t already do it in the 90s. Didn’t we do it already in the 2000s? It just sounds a little different now because sound systems have become better, and production methods have become better. But is it really anything new? That is what I wonder.
You recently returned to Dublin. How was that?
Oh my god, I had the best time in Dublin. I could not believe it. I could not believe the crowd, the club, the sound system, everything about this trip was so much fun. I really hope I can come back soon.
It was such a blast. I know you hear that from a lot of DJs about nights where they played, but this is really different. This was really one where I was like, wow! I played the night before in Antwerp, which was already a great Friday night. I was in a really good mood when I came to Dublin, walked around a little, and remembered how much I love this city. Having such a great night there made me leave feeling incredible.
And looking ahead, where do you personally hope to see techno evolve over the next five years?
I really hope that artists and the audience cherish the moment that they have on the dancefloor more, and for artists to do less stuff that’s only meant to enhance social media followers, and think less about what the people will say about it the next day on Instagram.
I really wish everybody would just be more in the moment, get lost in that club, in the environment that techno goes back to, to clubs, where people feel safe, and dance, and have no limits.
Nobody tells you when to go home. Nobody tells you what’s allowed and what’s not. As long as we respect each other and don’t hurt anybody. I wish we could get back to the freedom of the 90s and recognise techno as a really important part of human culture.
