VNV Nation's guitar-free rock

(Credit: Anachron America)

“We’re six-stringed challenged,” laughs Ronan Harris, vocalist and one-half of the popular electronic duo VNV Nation. “American audiences are always like ‘You don’t have guitars?’ They get a little freaked out. But we rock as hard as any band I know.”

A valid argument. While a huge draw throughout Europe over the past decade, VNV’s fan base was initially more of a cult thing here in the U.S. But after AFI frontman Davey Havok took a liking to the band—and invited Ronan to collaborate on the punk group’s chart-topping “Decemberundergound” album—fortunes changed. As Ronan and his cohort Mark Jackson release their seventh studio album, “Of Faith, Power and Glory” (out June 23 on the band's own Anachron label), VNV are now widely considered to be the leaders of an increasingly popular industrial/electronic/dance scene, one that hasn’t felt this vibrant since the early ‘90s.

We spoke with Ronan about discovering a new crowd, why a lack of guitars isn’t a handicap and how rock interviews are so damn limiting.

You recently moved to Hamburg. Why there?
It’s wanderlust. I wanted to see the world. I’m from Ireland, I lived in London, but when I would go to Germany, I just felt at home. It’s funny, because Irish and German personalities are very different. We’re desperately emotional. I guess I’ll be adding something to the mosaic of German life.

Do you know German?
I can order beer and tell people to leave me alone. Actually, everyone here randomly speaks English.

What’s the difference between playing here and playing in Europe?
American audiences are more vocal. There’s so much more free spirit among the alternative communities. Even New York; I had heard New York was an “arms crossed, impress us” kind of place, but they were the loudest place we’ve ever played.

You guys are sort of incorrectly pegged as an “industrial” band here. Do you feel like that’s a limiting tag?
I totally agree. I think we’re sort of an alternative electronic band. We took some influences from late ‘80s industrial, and we were a little more like that in the beginning. I think we’re more like Depeche Mode, the Prodigy, Chemical Brothers, things like that. If you listen to our stuff, there are orchestral, trance and rock elements to what we do.

Davey, the lead singer from AFI, is a huge backer of VNV Nation, and you’ve worked with him a lot. How did that start?
It was kind of weird. He’s a fan of ours, and, actually, a lot of electronic music in general. But I had never heard of his band. So we were touring in 2002, and our merch guy comes over and is like “You gotta meet this guy!” So I start talking to this person, this really lovely, genuine guy, and it was Davey—I had no clue who he was! But I saw his band eventually, and I really got into them. We’ve talked about doing a tour together, but it’s hard to work out schedules.

Your new album is called “Of Faith, Power and Glory”—what was the thought behind that?
I wanted something bombastic, something with an air of reverence. These are three things people seek, and they all can bring you to great heights, bring you to your goals, or destroy you. It was sort of a theme for us on the album.

As a dance/keyboard band, what do you do live to keep things interesting?
I’m always running around from one side of the stage to the other like a chubby ferret. And Mark’s banging on the drums; he’s like Satan on a riser. But it’s funny—in Europe, this is fine. In America, people are like “You don’t have guitars?” They’re boggled by this. It’s a terrible disability to have a keyboard player. Look, we’re a fucking band. We use more outputs than a guitar band, I can tell you that.

You actually started out as a writer for a music magazine called Side-Line. Is it odd to have worked both sides, as the interviewer of bands and then as a band being interviewed?
It was really fun talking to bands. I’m just enamored by people, and I used to love trying to come up with questions that help me find out something unique about each performer. I want to know what they’re like, not what shoes they wear. But I have friends in bands who, when interviewed, just answer in a really automatic kind of way, like they’re trained. I don’t understand that. I love talking about everything and anything—I hate that we have a half-hour time limit, for example. It’s confining. I used to talk to people for hours—that’s when you really get people to reveal what they’re about.