Formed in the early ’80s as the musical operation of the Neue Slowenische Kunst (NSK), a Slovenian art movement-turned-micronation, the band Laibach began a rock career with some explicit totalitarian allusions, both in sound and image. Call it a simulated rock career, actually, as they have always been more performance art than rock band.

If Laibach were ever a real fascist group, imagine skinhead listeners scratching their hairless noggins while puzzling over Laibach’s bizarre Germanic version of the Beatles’ “Let It Be” or Queen’s “One Vision.” This is hardly the music of hate.

Now comes Volk: Dead in Trbovlje, a DVD of a concert recorded in the spring of 2007 in their native Slovenia, ending a tour that accompanied the album Volk. The only recognizable member of long standing is Milan Fras, who delivers these songs in his signature croaking vocals.

Each song is an anthem or ode to a particular nation of the world, mostly from Europe but including Japan, the United States, Turkey, Israel and even their own conceptual NSK. Each nation’s history is poignantly summarized, then exalted, critiqued and ultimately mourned.

Woven into the mostly somber mood, synthesizer-drenched sound, multiple appeals to freedom and engaging video backdrops is a subliminal dismantling of nationalism itself. The Latinized titles (such as “Germania” or “Anglia”) and operatic female backing vocals give a quasi-classical ambience, and you will come away with Fras’ infectious chant of the name “Ataturk” (modern Turkey’s first president) bouncing through your head for days.

The concert’s second half is a boisterous celebration of Laibach’s erstwhile hits of the past 20 years.

Grade: A

Volk: Dead in Trbovlje is currently available.