A VAULT RERUN: HAGEN ON MY MIND

Originally posted on 10/26/09

Reminded of her thanks to an amusing YouTube clip that I watched a few days ago and unable to get her out of my head since then, I just had to post an image of one of my favorite singers, operatically-skilled punk rocker/world class weirdo Nina Hagen, and in no time that simple image inspired the following train of thought.

Nina Hagen, circa 1987.

While watching the clip I thought back to when and where I first heard Prima Nina's music and was shocked to note I've been listening to her for nearly thirty years, discovering her not long after finding my beloved Devo and having my musical perceptions completely blown out of the water and thus opened to checking out new things. Hagen was an especially easy sell to me, thanks to her genuine talent, unbridled and fully embraced weirdness, a real sense of style and charm, plus a glamorous but somehow anti-glam image that stood in direct contrast to the plastic and interchangeable pop singer chicks of the late-1970's/early-1980's.

The 1980 EP that made me a believer.

When I first heard the four-song EP that compiled tunes from Hagen's first two German-release LP's — NINA HAGEN BAND and the excellent UNBEHAGEN — during the fall of 1980, I was mesmerized by her voice's stunning operatic capability and just how hard "TV Glotzer" (roughly translated as "Glued to the TV" and also a German language re-write of the Tubes' "White Punks on Dope") rocked, compounding its Third Reich-meets-arena-rock ambiance with the song's finale having Hagen let out a Valkyrie-like shriek as the world ends in what sounds like the mother of all thermo-nuclear strikes. The rest of the EP is a lot of fun, but that song completely kicked my ass six ways to Sunday and remains among my favorite recordings from that confused and awkward period of my youth.

Music is an interest that is much more fun when shared with the like-minded and the only person I knew at the time who also appreciated Nina Hagen's musical stylings like I did was my dear friend Matt, a guy whose musical tastes almost completely jibed with my own. I'd known Matt since junior high but he moved a few towns away as our second year of high school began, yet that didn't stop our exchange of music; in fact, Matt's moving away yielded the unexpected bonus of him having a number of interesting mom & pop music stores in his new territory that allowed him access to stuff I could never have gotten my hands on in Westport, nor even at Fairfield County's sole bastion of extensive punk and new wave selections at the time, New Music. It was Matt who introduced me to several groups and performers that I came to love and during this musical exploration he was the person who managed to get his hands on Nina Hagen's then-new albums, the first of which to cross our path was NUNSEXMONKROCK (1982).

Though quite aggressively weird, this album's songs examine religion, science, matters of social concern and other assorted topics, each propelled by Hagen's amazing vocal range and sense of humor/satire. (When I encountered Mercyful Fate and King Diamond some two years later, I immediately wondered if King's all over the place vocals owed more than a little to the infinitely more talented Hagen's sonic template.) Definitely not an album for listeners raised on the safe, homogenized radio or MTV product-rock of the early eighties, this album is like a stark staring glimpse into the mind of someone who's gone irrevocably mad, but when you have tunes that kick as much ass as "Born in Xixax" or the hypnotic "Iki Maska," utter madness can at times be seen as a refuge.

Next up was 1983's ANGSTLOS (released in the U.S. as FEARLESS), a mostly mediocre offering that remains in my collection solely because of the transcendent majesty of the incredible "Zarah."

When Matt first played it for me he'd managed to snag the German version of the album from one of the arcane record shops in the boonies to where he'd been re-located, and when the needle hit the vinyl and allowed "Zarah" to cascade out of the speakers we were completely and utterly blown away. We both considered Nina Hagen a songstress of considerable merit, but "Zarah" allowed her Teutonic uber-pipes to let loose with a song that was simultaneously beautiful and infused with all the power one would expect from a record cut by a particularly talented Valkyrie when she wasn't out harvesting warriors' souls to populate Valhalla. The English language version of the song is pretty good, but "Zarah" must be experienced in German to feel the raw energy Hagen transmits when giving it voice. No lie, that song sends chills up my spine and when possible I play it as loud as I can.

Continuing the trend of her gifts being lent to albums of very much hit or miss quality, 1985's IN EKSTASY featured another mixed bag, including a cover of "My Way" (done to much greater effect by Sid Vicious some seven years previous) and a listless version of Norman Greenbaum's seventies hit "Spirit in the Sky."

IN EKSTASY is not a total loss though, containing as it does the bleak "Atomic Flash de Luxe," but I can't really recommend it to anyone other than Hagen purists (one of which, despite my love of her, I am not).

A brief return to form came in 1987 with the release of the PUNK WEDDING EP, a gleefully goofy celebration of Hagen's marriage to an eighteen-year-old punker boy named "Iroquois."

Old school punk rock was once noted for its sense of humor and this EP is proof that people from Germany can be fucking hilarious when they want to, as evidenced in the title song (German and English versions are provided) and especially on "Hardcore Rebell-Hochzeitsparty," a ditty that to this day makes my friend Smokey crack up over how "extra stoopid" it is. The whole record is a raucous madhouse but the bit that truly makes it is the moment when, amidst much noise and chaos, a priest interrupts the proceedings and engages in the following exchange with Nina:

Priest: Do you, Nina Hagen, take this punk to be your lawfully wedded husband?

Nina (sweetly): Ja... 
Priest: Do you, Iroquois, take this superstar to be your lawfully wedded wife? 
Iroquois (sounding exactly like a completely wasted Sid Vicious): Oh, yeah...

Priest: To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to honor and obey, 'til death do you part?
Nina (confused): What?!!?

Back cover to the PUNK WEDDING EP.

I've done the research and can find no concrete info on Hagen's subsequent relationship with that Iroquois guy, so I'm inclined to think the whole thing was some kind of elaborate joke that few of us have been let in on. If anyone reading this knows different, please don't hesitate to write in with an answer.

Following PUNK WEDDING's all-too-brief blast of kickass silliness, I graduated from college and spent the next few years concentrating less on music and trying instead to get acclimated to the realities of earning a living, thus not encountering Fraulein Hagen again until 1993's REVOLUTION BALLROOM.

Her voice was still there but some undefinable element was missing from the recipe, so as a result I have given Hagen's releases a miss from REVOLUTION BALLROOM on, a policy that saddens me. I am however curious to give a listen to her 1999 album OM NAMAH SHIVAY!, a completely serious rendition of the Hare Krishna mantra.

Even during the days when I listened to her stuff as it was coming out, Hagen came off as a spiritually restless eccentric, first embracing what appeared at the time to be Born Again Christianity (as noted in the lyrics to "Born in Xixax": "Well I believe in Jesus/I preach it loud and stark") and then traveling a path of enlightenment that seems to have at one point culminated in Krishna Consciousness. Whatever the case may be, Nina Hagen continues to fascinate me, both as an artist and as a human being, and I hope she stays around for a long while, being here to intrigue, inspire, and incite mass confusion wherever she goes. A true beauty, possessed of a vast and compelling intellect, brazen enough to demonstrate female masturbation techniques on a live Austrian talk show in 1979 (while clothed, but nonetheless something I would have loved to witness from the audience) and by far the most intentionally funny German I have yet to encounter, she's just plain awesome.

The photo that hung on my bedroom wall from sometime in 1981 through when I left for college in 1983. My mom was simultaneously quite displeased and rather confused whenever she glimpsed it.

AN UNINTENTIONAL GEEK MASHUP

Regular readers of this blog have seen me go on at length about my love of Modesty Blaise and her adventures, so here's an unexpected gem that I stumbled upon earlier today while doing research: I haven't seen the Modesty Blaise origin movie, MY NAME IS MODESTY (2004), in ages, well before GAME OF THRONES happened, so looking back on it now I'm surprised and delighted to share with you...MODESTY BLAISE VERSUS JAIME LANNISTER!!! I swear to god!!!



Yep, that's Nicolaj Coster-Waldau, who plays everyone's favorite sister-fucking badassed knight, the one and only Jaime Lannister, on GAME OF THRONES, getting his ass handed to him by Alexandra Staden as a rather frail-looking Modesty Blaise. Looking at this footage, he would have made a very good Willie Garvin. In fact, before remembering that I'd seen the film and recognizing him thanks to his presence on GAME OF THRONES, for a moment I thought he was Willie, but Willie is sadly not in the movie. (It recaps Modesty's origin up to a certain point in her career, at which time she had not yet met her righthand man/soul mate.) That said, I have to wonder how well he'd pull off the Cockney accent...

IT'S THE WEEKEND! TIME FOR FREAKIN'!!!

After an interminable week — don't ask — the weekend is finally here! Let's hope it's a good one.

JEEBUS, PLEASE PROTECT ME FROM YOUR FOLLOWERS...

While checking my mailbox for an important piece of mail, I instead received a hand-written letter from one Susan Laurence, a Jehovah's Witness who wrote to alert me at length to outline how conditions today suck — thanks for the heads up — and would be vastly improved if Jesus Christ were in charge of the government. Her contact info was of course enclosed.

Perhaps contrary to what some would expect, I'm not going to bother with responding to Miss Laurence's missive. My response, no matter how eruditely phrased, would likely be perceived as a vitriolic attack from an "heathen" bully, so instead I opt to ignore it.

My stance on religion in general and aggressive Christianity in particular is well established, so I'll just let it suffice to say that I take considerable umbrage at being sent such material, no matter how presumably well-intentioned. I don't spend my time hand-crafting entreaties to lure you to the ways of comic books, punk rock, exploitation films, and pornography, and send them to your mailbox. Instead I write about such things on this blog, a forum that you have to actively choose to experience. For all I knew, "Susan Laurence" could have been either a married name now attached to a long-ago classmate or former girlfriend, or even someone writing to offer me work, so I opened the letter with genuine curiosity, only to be met with proselytizing yammerings.

Though I'm sure such junk mail is meant in all sincerity, I would like to politely suggest that those who feel it's a good idea to send this Mercyful Fate-loving cunnilingus and gay marriage advocate such material kindly fuck the hell off.

The most holy pussy: The only deity I will ever truly worship.

The Ramones' "COMMANDO" (1977)

While celebrating the 30th anniversary of The Ramones' first album, I was reminded of this animated version of one of my favorites of their early catalog, namely "Commando" from their third album. This cartoon is the letter-perfect visual accompaniment to the song and the band's sensibility, with the shot of ultra-right-winger Johnny Ramone flipping the bird to Boris and Natasha in direct opposition to their commie leanings. Enjoy!

37 YEARS LATER: The Ramones' "I DON'T WANNA GO DOWN TO THE BASEMENT"

Today marks the 37th anniversary of the release of the Ramones' eponymous first album. While I can't speak for those with more genteel tastes, that album was a life-changer for me when I discovered it some four years after it first came out. That considerable gap in time between release and the album falling into my grubby little hands is understandable, simply because the record got no airplay whatsoever on the Tri-State Area radio stations I listened to at the time, and while I knew one kid in my junior high who was into The Clash, no one in my school was listening to a bunch of grubby-looking, could-be-drug-addicts like the boys from Forest Hills while there were still albums by The Doors and The Beatles to run further into the ground.

Anyway, here's my tip of the hat to Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee, and Tommy, for all the many hours of adolescent angst they helped salve with their anthems of male prostitution, anti-social tendencies, recreational abuse of household adhesives, and the presumed correlation of young love and nazism. And rather than go with my usual pick from that classic initial aural salvo, specifically the indelible "Blitzkrieg Bop," here's my favorite of the album's lesser-heard cuts. And you've gotta love it as a Scooby-Doo-esque cartoon with rock-bottom animation!

SHORTLY BEFORE IRON MAN 3 OPENS, A BIT OF A SNAG...

The much-anticpated IRON MAN 3 is barely a week away and as fans' eagerness builds, an unexpected and irritating kerfluffle is taking place. As explained in detail at Slashfilm, Disney, the power behind IRON MAN 3 and Marvel Studios, is putting the squeeze of the AMC and Regal theater chains in an effort to garner a larger percentage of the box office take from their films, so the theater chains are retaliating by halting sale of tickets for the film at their locations nationwide. As far as I'm personally concerned, Disney can go fuck themselves in the ear since this kind of move screws the people who pay their hard-earned cash to see their movies in the first place, and really, how much more money does that corporation really need? It's a naked cash-grab, no more, no less, and while I'm sure it'll all be worked out before opening day, it shows a real contempt for and/or  lack of giving a squirt of rat's piss about the very people who keep the corporate coffers overflowing.

As you may or may not know, I'm the cruise director for my crew of moviegoing friends — the Cine-Miscreants — whenever assorted genre movies open, so it's on me to figure out when and where to see movies on opening night. In the case of IRON MAN 3, I'd been wondering why the fuck the online ticket sources for NYC have still not made tickets available, especially since I'm trying to sort out the issue in regard to both opening night and the four-film Iron Man marathon the day before. While trying to figure out the problem, I stumbled across the Slashfilm article and I was rather annoyed.  Manhattan's choices of decent screens are already limited but this situation screws the audience even further. My crew was looking forward to seeing it at the Regal Union Square multiplex since it won't be playing at our preferred Ziegfeld (the Ziegfeld will instead be running The Great Gatsby as of the following week, which sucks because that's where we saw the two previous Iron Man movies), so now I have to figure out a decent screen somewhere in Manhattan that's convenient for everyone to get to and that has decent bars nearby for the after-movie discussion.

I just checked the current ticket availability and thanks to the corporate impasse, IRON MAN 3 is currently listed as only playing at one theater in the entirety of Manhattan — so-so venue on 62nd Street and 1st Avenue — a tiny screen in Williamsburg that will be a bitch for most of my crew to reach (except for one who lives in that area) and a tiny hole in the wall screen in Cobble Hill, which is not far from me but the screen is ridiculously small. And those are the only theaters playing it in the entirety of the five boroughs — and I do mean ONLY — so I wrote my crew with that info and thus far three of them agree with my proposal to wait until the corporations hash things out. I'm fine with waiting but some in my crew may commit violence in the streets if their Tony Stark itch is not scratched as soon as possible. Oh, and of course all of this means that unless the impasse gets sorted out in time, the four-film all-day Iron Man marathon consisting of IRON MAN, IRON MAN 2, THE AVENGERS, and a day-early screening of IRON MAN 3, ain't gonna happen. I was really looking forward to that...

IRON MAN 3: A WEE TASTE

LET'S START THE WEEK OFF RIGHT!

COMING SOON (BUT NOT SOON ENOUGH FOR ME!)