Lied der Woche für Deutschlernen Topic is solved

[Basler Biker]

Bosse: Der letzte Tanz

Du siehst den Eingang zum Gefängnis t=216 (3:36)

https://secrethamburg.com/santa-fu-serie/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fuhlsbüttel

[Chrisinom]

Alexandra: Mein Freund der Baum

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/mein-fre ... -tree.html
A note in advance: This is not a song for people who are starting to learn German. Alexandra's short and intense career came to an end at a country road junction in Tellingstedt, Holstein, in July 1969. A truck had rammed into the cream-colored Mercedes coupé of the singer and composer, a fatal accident. Together with her mother (who also died at the scene) and her son (who survived with minor injuries) sleeping in the back seat, Alexandra was on her way to Sylt, where she wanted to take some time out and fundamentally rethink her artistic path. It was to be a musical emancipation beyond the male-dominated world of producers and career strategists. For her, it was time to put dominant father figures such as Fred Weyrich and Hans R. Beierlein in their place. Born Doris Treitz in the former East Prussian Memelland, Alexandra wanted to move away from the commercially successful Eastern Bloc melodies that she performed congenially with her deep voice in “Sehnsucht” or “Zigeunerjunge”. “Doch solang' ein Mensch noch träumen kann” is the title of her 1968 single ‘Illusionen’. A song that could also describe the extraordinary career of the single mother in the still traditional show business. The voice talent with the distinctive bob hairstyle had worked with stars such as Salvatore Adamo and Gilbert Bécaud during her international career. Her encounter with Carlos Jobim at the Chanson Festival in Rio de Janeiro in particular left a lasting impression. There was a friendship and collaboration with Udo Jürgens; the song „Illusionen“ was created, for which he wrote the music and she wrote the lyrics. She was striving for the kind of artistic independence that some American and British female singer/songwriters had fought for. So it was tragically fitting for Alexandra's short career that her self-composed single “Mein Freund, der Baum” was only released posthumously and then became a huge chart success.
In her chanson, Alexandra sings about her special relationship with a tree that she visited again and again as a child. She could entrust her worries and needs to it. She found peace and strength in its shade. And then the shock: the girl finds it felled by the wayside. With this song, Alexandra got to the heart of the Germans' relationship with trees and forests. The relationship between Germans and trees and forests is a highly emotional, even mystical-mythical one: the “German forest” is a metaphor and a landscape of longing, home to countless fairy tales and legends, inspiration for poets, musicians and painters. Ideological exaggerations made it a symbol of German mentality and culture. The transfiguring forest idyll in German Romanticism was highly influential, with its longing for a spiritual and aesthetic return to the woods, for the rustling of the forest or forest solitude. From Eichendorff's “rustling forest” to Schubert's “roaring forest” and Mendelssohn's “beautiful forest”. An understandable reaction to industrialization and the increasing distance of urban culture from nature.
In the 1980s and 1990s, the years of the forest dieback (German „Waldsterben“), Alexandra's chanson was seen as the first ecological song that foresaw future developments. Anyone asking about the reasons for the career of the topic of forest dieback in the mass media and in the consciousness of the population in the 1980s will hardly be able to avoid considering the forest myth and counting the romantic offerings of our forest consciousness among the causes of this collective excitement. The doomsday myth of “forest extinction” evidently reached truly hidden layers of the soul. The fear of losing cultural traditions is one of the motifs of Romanticism anyway. Like the Romantic movement and its love of the forest, the fear of the dying forest was initially a phenomenon of the cities. The more remote the population lived from nature, the more certain they were of the loss of the forests and occasionally of the resulting demise of the entire human race. The popular slogan “Erst stirbt der Baum, dann der Mensch“ (First the tree dies, then man dies) was found everywhere in large cities, but hardly in German villages.
In the context of popular German-language songs, Alexandra's song stood out from the broad mass of popular hits. German popular music in the post-war period was „Schlager“ music. It thrived on simple, easy-to-remember melodies that were immediately catchy. The songs were mostly in major keys and relied on clear, recurring harmonies. This musical simplicity was deliberately chosen to convey lightness and optimism. Gentle chord changes were typical and encouraged the listener to sing along. The melodies were often designed in such a way that they stuck with you even after the first listen. This is what made Schlager so accessible: the music should be fun and not complicated. These simple but effective structures contributed to the genre's long-standing popularity. The lyrics in Schlager were often very emotional and dealt with universal themes such as love, heartache, longing and joie de vivre. Nothing was coded or subtle - Schlager lyrics were direct, honest and sometimes a little cheesy. This simplicity created an immediate connection to the listeners, who could easily find themselves in the stories. Schlager, which still play an important role in popular music was and is the music of good humor. It gets the crowd moving at folk festivals, après-ski parties or the Oktoberfest. The songs are usually danceable, with catchy beats and driving rhythms. Many songs have sing-along choruses that are perfect for large groups.
Alexandra’s song is different. It is a song in the style of a chanson with orchestral accompaniment, the main key is A minor. The verses are accompanied by strings and individual notes of a glockenspiel, to which Alexandra sings with artificial reverberation. The accompaniment pauses briefly at the beginning of each verse and only resumes on the fourth note sung. In the refrain, drums and the onomatopoeic female choir are added, which heightens the drama of the refrain.
The structure of the song clearly stands out from that of a pop song. The three verses are each unfinished sonnets in terms of form: the two quartets (in a quatrain iamb) have embracing rhymes (abba), in the following tercet (in a quatrain iamb as well) the verse lines 1 and three rhyme, line two is a non-rhyming verse. The second tercet of the sonnet is missing; instead there is the rhymed two-line refrain “Mein Freund der Baum ist tot / Er starb im frühen Morgenrot“ (My friend the tree is dead / It fell in the early dawn)”. The first line of the refrain stands out because it’s a triple iamb. It contains the main message of the song, the death of the tree. In this way, however, the text does justice to the principle of the sonnet's content: the quartets represent a problem, a question, a conflict, in this case a natural phenomenon. The solution, answer or result follows in the tercet stanzas.
In terms of language, the song also deviates significantly from the stylistically colloquial Schlager. The sentence structure often deviates from the linguistic norm and sounds refined. A good example of this can be found in the first two lines of the second quartet in the first verse: “Als kleines Mädchen kam ich schon / Zu dir mit all den Kindersorgen kam”. The normal sentence structure would be “Schon als kleines Kind kam ich mit all den Kindersorgen zu dir“ (Even as a little girl, I came to you with all my childhood worries). Another example of this can be found in the first quartet of the third verse: In the second line of verse, the auxiliary verb “hat” comes before the participle “abgeschlagen”. There is also a conditional sentence with inversion instead of the conditional conjunction with the following subordinate clause structure inn the first stanza: „Hab' ich in deinem Arm geweint“ instead of „Wenn ich in deinem Arm geweint hab(e)“. The choice of words also indicates an elevated level of language: “längst schon” instead of “schon lange”, “aller Kummer flog davon” (all grief flew away), sich “im Wind ... wiegen“ (sway in the wind), „am Wege liegen“ (the old dative ending -e! - Lie along the path), „achtet nicht den Rest von Leben“ (disregards the rest of life), „sterbend sich zur Erde neigen (leaning dying to the earth), „mein bester Freund ist mir (instead oft für mich) verloren“ (my best friend is lost to me), „ der mit der Kindheit mich verband“ (instead of „der mich mit der Kindheit verband“ - who connected me with childhood), „graue Mauern ragen“ (gray walls tower).
In the first stanza, the protagonist describes her memory of the tree, “ein alter Freund aus Kindertagen“ (an old friend from childhood). Trees and the forest also play a major role in the fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm. The tree became a conversation partner for her, to whom she could confide all her problems („Kindersorgen“) and who understood her. She felt safe and secure („geborgen“) with him when she could cry in his arms („Hab’ ich in deinem Arm geweint“) and she could forget her grief and be a carefree child („...aller Kummer flog davon“, all sorrow flew away), when he stroked her hair with his green leaves in her imagination („strichst du mit deinen grünen Blättern mir übers Haar“).
In the second verse, she describes the current situation: the tree was felled in the morning. and now lies on the path with the last “remnant of life” in its “green branches that lean dying to the earth”. Two verbs are used here that have a causative connection: One cuts down a tree (infinitive “fällen”) which then falls (infinitive “fallen”). The transitive “fällen” causes the intransitive “fallen”. „Fallen“ also means to die, especially in a war. There is a German poem by Wilhem Hauff from 1824: „Morgenrot, Morgenrot, leuchtest mir zum frühen Tod! (Dawn, dawn, shine on me to my early death!) (https://www.projekt-gutenberg.org/antho ... ap143.html). The following two lines mourn the loss of the friend, emphasized by the alliterative “w”: „Du wirst dich nie im Wind mehr wiegen / Du musst gefällt am Wege liegen“ (You will never sway in the wind again / You must lie fallen by the wayside). The speaker's grief contrasts with the behavior of the other people, who carelessly walk past the dead tree and even tear off its remaining green branches, „die sterbend sich zur Erde neigen“ (which bend dying to the earth). The loss of the "best friend" also means the end of childhood: „Wer wird mir nun die Ruhe geben / Die ich in deinem Schatten fand (Who will now give me the peace that I found in your shadow).
The future is described in the third verse: “Bald wächst ein Haus aus Glas und Stein / Dort wo man ihn hat abgeschlagen “ (Soon a house of glass and stone will grow where it was knocked off), and where it now lies, gray walls will rise. („… werden graue Mauern ragen“). The gray walls contrast with the green branches, which is emphasized by the close rhyme with the “au” sounds, and with the sunshine („Sonnenschein“). She links this future with the hope that there could be a “miracle”: „Vielleicht wird es ein Wunder geben“ (Maybe there will be a miracle), the miracle of a future blossoming garden in front of the house that will awaken to new life. However, this is little consolation: a tree that is hundreds of years old cannot be replaced by a weak, small tree: „Und wenn auch viele Jahren geh'n / Er wird nie mehr der selbe sein“ (And even if many years go by / He will never be the same again).
The feared dieback of German forests in the 1980s and 1990s did not occur, partly because appropriate measures were taken. However, this does not mean that the forests are in the best of health. The opposite is the case. Global warming in Germany is more pronounced than the global average. The average annual temperature in Germany has risen by 1.6 °C since 1881, which is significantly more than the global average of around 1 °C. The rate of temperature rise has increased significantly over the last 50 years. In 2024, Germany set a new all-time record for the average annual temperature of 10.9 °C. The cooler and wetter it is, the more comfortable the trees in Germany feel. But the dry and hot periods are becoming longer and longer due to climate change. The forest is not prepared for this. Normally, around two to five percent oft the forests die. In recent years, however, that figure has been forty percent. The situation is also not comparable to the forest dieback in the 1990s. Back then, pollutants in the air were responsible. When we were talking about forest dieback at the end of the last century, it was a maximum of ten or twelve percent. In other words, we have never experienced mortality rates as high as today. Time to listen to Alexandra's song again.

[Chrisinom]

Reinhard Mey: Diplomatenjagd

Lyrics: https://www.songtexte.com/songtext/rein ... a078b.html
Reinhard Mey is a German and French-speaking chanson singer, lyricist and composer. Since the end of the 1960s, he has been one of the most popular representatives of the German singer-songwriter scene. Mey's pseudonym Frédérik Mey is derived from the French version of his second name Friedrich. He chose it for phonetic reasons, as in his opinion the French first name Renaud, which corresponds to the German Reinhard, would have resulted in an unfavorable French pronunciation. Renaud sounds like Renault and as a full name Renaud Mey sounds similar to renommée. Reinhard Mey's songs mainly deal with themes taken from life. In the 1960s and 1970s, these included love songs , songs about flying , about death , satirical observations of social realities and the adversities of everyday life , ironic-satirical observations of social realities and the adversities of everyday life or his own life. Occasionally he succeeds in coining the German language ("Der Mörder ist immer der Gärtner"). In contrast to French chanson, Mey's songs initially rarely dealt with political themes. Since the 1990s in particular, his albums have increasingly included songs that take a political stance, are critical of society and the times and are often characterized by a pacifist attitude.
“Diplomatenjagd” from 1971 is a good example of Mey's ironic unmasking of a supposed political and social elite, one of the most delicious satires of early Mey and one of his most famous songs at the time. The seemingly harmless slapstick draws a portrait of an arrogant and decadent “upper class” with just a few strokes of the pen - poking fun at the „pillars of society“. At the same time, Mey's text demonstrates his linguistic elegance, which knows how to formulate his thoughts with somnambulistic confidence and virtuosity. As a linguistic virtuoso, he is unparalleled on the German singer-songwriter scene. This makes him a songwriter worth listening to and reading for advanced learners of German.
As the title suggests, the vocabulary of the ballad consists of terms that have something to do with a diplomatic hunt. A diplomatic hunt is a hunting event with the participation of diplomats. In the song, this is first of all the diplomatic corps (also korps), a legally undefined term for either only the heads of mission (ambassadors, envoys, ministers or chargés d'affaires) or the entire diplomatic staff of a country. An Attaché Mehring is mentioned by name, an embassy employee with special specialist tasks, such as military attaché, cultural attaché or the press attaché responsible for the representation's public relations work. The hunting society also includes the foreign minister of an unspecified country. However, it is not only diplomats who take part in the hunt, but also noblemen. Above all, there is the host of the event, Bodo Freiherr von (from) „Schloss Hohenhecke zu Niederlahr“. “Freiherr” is an aristocratic title that is commonly used in Germany and other German-speaking regions. It means “free nobleman” and corresponds to the baron. The title is part of the family name and comes after the first name. The “klapprige(n) Ahnnherr(n) (rickety ancestor(s) of Kieselknirsch“, is also mentioned by name. An „Ahnherr“ is the first, mostly legendary ancestor of a noble family. Kieselknirsch (literally pebble creak) is the fitting name for the aged nobleman who has to be carried on a stretcher („auf der Bahre“) to the stalking ground („Pirsch“).
Of course, the high military should not be missing at such an event. Two generals (“Zwei Generäle“) ride at the head of the hunting expedition (”zuvor", that is ahead of the diplomats). Again, a representative of this group is mentioned by name, Lieutenant General von Zitzewitz, a descendant of the Prussian noble family Zitzewitz-Kutzeke, which can be traced back to the year 1168. However, the name Zitzewitz became famous through numerous jokes, representing stupidity in the military. Mey also makes fun of the participation of business leaders as “the knights of the Order of the Economy”. Last but not least, the high clergy is represented by a “Monsignore” who throws himself into the action “mit Furore“ (with furor). Not directly named, but implicitly inferable, is the participation of some common people, who drive the game as beaters (“mit Prügeln”, bludgeons) in front of the hunters' guns. The landscape through which this hunt passes is quite idyllic: it leads through “Felder und Auen“ (fields and floodplains), “Wiesen und Büsche(n)“ (meadows and bushes), “Wald und Flur“ (woods and farmland)” to a “Waldesrand“ (old for Waldrand, forest edge)” and a “Schneise“ (clearing”). However, the idyll is abruptly disturbed by the hunting party: „Schon bricht es herein …, das diplomatische Korps“ (The diplomatic corps is already breaking in). That sounds more like Donald Trump than diplomatic procedure.
The victims of this hunting pleasure are “haarige Sauen“ (hairy sows), “Hirsche“ (stags), “Fasanen“ (pheasants), “Enten“ (ducks) and “Keiler“ (boars). In addition, there are somewhat unusual hunting victims: Lieutenant General von Zitzewitz lives up to his reputation as a figure of fun and laments („beklagt“) the loss of his dachshund” („den Verlust seines Dackels“) “Attaché Mehring shoots („erlegt“) a herring, which the bullets pierce deep-frozen and still in the cling bag („den tiefgefroren die Kugeln durchbohren, noch im Frischhaltebeutel“). This leads to a boar surrendering (sich ergeben“), completely disturbed by the noise The shooting of the kill together with the collateral victims is depicted with a variable vocabulary: “Es knallen die Büchsen (the rifles bang), “ein Pulverblitz“ (a flash of gunpowder), “der kriegt kurzerhand eins übergebrannt“ (it gets one over without further ado), “er schießt wie der Teufel“ (he shoots like the devil), “man reicht ihm die Büchse“ (they hand him the rifle), “es prasselt der Schrot“ (the buckshot crackles), “ein prächtiger Blattschuss“ (a splendid chest shot).
The ballad consists of six stanzas, the first five with ten lines each, the last with twelve lines. There is also an outro of four verse lines. The alternating rhymes in lines one to four and nine to ten frame the couplets in lines five to eight. The verse lines with the alternating rhymes alternate between four and three beats, the lines with the rhyming couplets are each in three beats.The last stanza follows this pattern in the first four lines of verse, followed by eight trimetres with rhyming couplets. The concluding outro consists of four tetrametric couplets. The rhythm of the song is characterized by the alternation between iambs and anapests, which express the propulsive nature of hunting music.
The first stanza begins with the dawn of the hunt: „Es hat soeben getagt“. „Tagen“ is usually to hold a meeting in German, but in elevated style it is also a synonym oft „dämmern“, to dawn. Apart from the last two lines, the stanza consists of a single sentence, which at first glance appears grammatically incorrect. It begins with a place adverbial, which is not followed by the verb, as expected, but by a subject, the personal pronoun “es”. With correct punctuation (which tends to be the exception in song lyrics), however, it becomes clear that this subject belongs to an inserted main clause (line 2), which should be separated from the rest of the sentence by dashes. The entire sentence is then continued with the verb “lädt”, which is followed by the subject with further adverbials and objects. This exposition of the action demonstrates Mey's linguistic skill, as he elegantly masters even complex sentence structures.
The last verse ends the day with the dawning of night („Die Nacht bricht herein“) and represents a restored idyll (“ein friedliches Bild“). In between lies an eventful day of hunting with the aforementioned absurd incidents (the loss of the Zitzewitz dachshund and the shooting oft the frozen herring), which ruin the intended careful planning of the owner of the hunting ground with the animals prepared for the hunt the evening before („… „für teures Geld am Vorabend ... aufgestellt“, set up for expensive money the evening before).
The climax of the absurd hunting scenes is in stanzas four and five. The aged ancestor “can no longer see properly” („sieht nicht mehr recht“), but is a good shot and sends the foreign minister to the eternal hunting grounds („in die ewigen Jagdgründe“, as you would say in German). To general indignation, he then also calls out “Weidmannsheil”, the traditional wish for good luck to a hunter before the hunt or said when congratulating a hunter on a kill. „Weidmann“ (also Waidmann) is the technical term for a hunter, the answer to „Weidmannsheil“ is „Weidmannsdank“). But the cunning satirist Mey immediately finds an excuse for the shooter: He should be given credit for what a splendid shot it was („Das war, bei Hubertus / Ein prächtiger Blattschuss - St. Hubertus is considered the patron saint of hunters and foresters) and that he must have misunderstood something. He had probably taken the word “diplomat hunt” a little too literally („etwas zu wörtlich genommen“). Grammatically speaking, this is not entirely correct. It is a linguistic phenomenon with compound words in German, similar to the Latin genitivus subiectivus and genitivus obiectivus. Compound words with “hunt” denote either the type of hunt (“Treibjagd”) or the prey to be hunted (“fox hunt”), but in the case of the “Diplomatenjagd” it defines the participants in the hunt. Thus the hunt of diplomats becomes a hunt for diplomats.
What remains is the the monsignor's blessing for the„Strecke“ of lifeless, aged game. „Strecke“ is a word for the entirety of the game killed during a hunt (laid down on the ground in an orderly fashion after the hunt). What the priest is blessing presents a sad picture. The hunted game is not only lifeless, but at least as old (“greis”, „Veteranen“) as the "Ahnerr". The pheasants are tough, the duck has rheumatism, the boar has asthma. No wonder nobody wants to eat that. So, in good hunting style, they turn to alcohol (“Die Jagd wird begossen” - “begießen” is colloquial for celebrating an event with alcoholic beverages) and come to a conclusion that is as wise as it is generous („großzügig“) and charitable: The junk („Krempel“) is donated to the nearest orphanage. Thus, the Monsignor’s blessing is bestowed even upon the poorest: „So wird auch den Ärmsten der Segen zuteil“ – „Zuteilwerden“ (elevated language) means to be granted, imposed, be allotted (by fate or by a superior person). The outro concludes with a triple „Weidmannsheil“ to the art of hunting („Weidwerk“).

[rudi]

Eine kleine Bemerkung zu Deinen (wie immer interessanten und ausführlichen ) Erklärungen: Waid, wie auch die abgeleiteten Begriffe wie "Waidmannsheil", wird mit "ai" geschrieben.

[Chrisinom]

Danke für den Hinweis, aber ich habe das vorab gegoogelt: Beide Schreibweisen sind korrekt (https://m.korrekturen.de/forum.pl/md/re ... geaendert/)

[rudi]

Okay, dann tut es mir leid Entschuldigung!
Ich habe es in der Schule einfach anders gelernt und in allen Publikationen zu dem Thema immer nur mit "ai" gelesen. Persönlich würde ich es daher weiterhin so schreiben.
Danke auch Dir für den Hinweis und nichts für ungut!

Was mir gerade auffällt: Für die Redewendung "nichts für ungut" können wir übrigens fast schon einen neuen Thread aufmachen...

[Chrisinom]

Ich habe es auch in der Schule anders gelernt, wie die meisten

[Chrisinom]

Anna Depenbusch: Tim liebt Tina / Tim 2.0

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/tim-lieb ... -tina.html
After the linguistically sophisticated ballad by the old singer-songwriter Reinhard Mey, now a linguistically simpler song by a young German singer-songwriter, at least at first glance. Getting too fixated on one career direction often goes wrong. But not if there is perseverance and real talent behind it. As in the case of Anna Depenbusch, who was born in Hamburg on October 17, 1977. Even as a child, she knew that she wanted to seek her fortune in music. As a ten-year-old, she performed on stage for the first time as part of the school big band. In 2005, Anna got her first chance to release a song - and took it. “In your face” was more than just a respectable success. Collaborations with other artists followed. But Anna's financial situation was often not rosy. She was forced to break up her band. To secure her livelihood, she worked as a driver for vegetable trucks, among other things. But music was still her main priority. The singer spent two years working on songs for a new longplayer. The ambitious album “Die Mathematik Der Anna Depenbusch” was released in January 2011. The title is a reference to the book “Die Mathematik Der Nina Gluckstein” by Esther Vilar, which left a lasting impression on Anna as a teenager.
An album name like this may primarily be associated with cool, cerebral titles. But no, the Hamburg singer Anna Depenbusch was not trying to send a message to her old math teacher with her new album. Instead, “Die Mathematik der Anna Depenbusch” is about unpredictability. It's about love. About relationships. About people and inequalities - just like in her single “Tim liebt Tina”. “Tim liebt Tina” is a colorful relationship carousel. It is almost reminiscent ofthe content summaries of the daily soaps in TV magazines. It sounds like a harmless children's song, but the linguistically rather simple lyrics are full of funny surprises and bitter twists. There is lying and cheating, seduction, risk-taking and nobody actually gets the one they want.
Formally, the song is also quite simple. It consists of three verses, a chorus and an outro in place of the last chorus. The verses are each about a love affair between partners whose first names are mentioned - with one exception, the speaker of the song, who becomes part of the love dance („Liebesreigen“ like in Arthus Schnitzlers „Reigen“) in the last verse. The refrain defines love in simple words, the first two as antitheses: „Die Liebe kommt, die Liebe geht“ (comes and disappears), die Liebe „brennt und bricht“ (burns and breaks), and die Liebe „hält, was sie verspricht“ (keeps its promises). These definitions are concluded in the same way (two antitheses and a statement) in the outro: „Wir lachen, wir leiden“ (laugh, suffer), „verlassen und bleiben“ (leave, stay), „wir leben und lernen daraus“ (live and learn from it). The outro closes with the childish-sounding words “Das Liebeslied ist jetzt aus“ (The love song is over now).
Three love triangles are depicted in the three stanzas, with Tim from the first triangle surprisingly joining the triangle in the last verse. The first verse is about Tim, Tina and Klaus. „Tim liebt Tina, doch (synonym for „aber) Tine liebt Klaus.“ But Klaus has to go to China for work („muss beruflich nach China“ – an example of the use of the modal auxiliary „müssen“ without a full verb, whose meaning can be inferred from the context). So Klaus leaves Tina at home („zu Haus“ – the dative ending „-e“ is dropped not only for the rhyme. In most cases, the ending has already been dropped; in the case of “zu / nach Haus(e)”, both forms can still be found, especially in the noun “das Zuhause”). We learn nothing more about the fate of Tina and Klaus, the rest of the verse focuses on Tim. Tim doesn't know what to do with himself (the idiomatic expression in German is „… weiß nicht wohin mit sich“), so he comforts himself with vodka and saps his way through the day („säuft sich durch den Tag“ – „saufen“ usually refers to bigger animals but is also used for the excessive consumption of alcohol).
The second verse begins more optimistically: Ron loves his Ronja and Ronja loves her Ron. The personal pronouns (seine Ronja“, „ihren Ron“ indicate a really happy relationship. But this is immediately followed by a typical Depenbusch twist: Sometimes Ron also sleeps with Sonja, but his Ronja doesn't know anything about that. However, with a lot of skill and a bit of luck („mit viel Geschick und etwas Glück“), Ron gets away with it („bricht … sich nicht sein Genick“, doesn’t break his neck). He marries his Ronja („nimmt Ronja zur Frau“) and keeps having casual sex with Sonja – „Gelegenheitsfick“. Oops! No one else sings such a dirty word as tenderly as Depenbusch with her bell-like and almost childlike voice that warbles “lalalala” in waltz beat in between. Ron's „Geschick“ finds its counterpart in the internal and final rhymes of the songwriter, who, as always, loves to rhyme: Sonja - Ronja, Geschick - Glück - Genick - Gelegenheitsfick, schlau - Frau).
The third love triangle initially seems to follow the pattern of the first love triangle: A loves B, but B loves C. However, two elements differ. A (Paul) is homosexual and loves B (Peter), who is not homosexual. Finally, C, who is loved by Peter, is the female speaker of the song, For the sake of simplicity, I'll call her “Anna”. Once again, the singer-songwriter gives free rein to her love of phonetic effects, here in the form of assonances (zutraulich - Frauen - Traum, Lebenssinn - Kind - sind – Tim). Peter can only hope that Paul might become “zutraulich” later on. „Zutraulich“ is a word that is mostly used for pets and children that are accustomed to humans, „handzahm“ (tame enough to be handled, docile), without shyness, affectionate. But for Paul, who is not homosexual, “Anna” is his dream, “sein größter Lebenssinn“ (his greatest meaning in life). That's why he has wanted her to have a child ever since they started dating. But in a final twist, “Anna” does want a child, but not from him - but from Tim. This closes the circle and the round dance returns to the beginning. Consequently, the beginning of the outro leads back to the beginning: Tim loves Tina …
Almost everyone involved in the „Ronde“ is phonetically linked: Tim and Tina as well as Peter and Paul through alliteration, Ron with the female form of his name Ronja and via the rhyme with Sonja, and Anna, being a palindrome, with herself. The only one who falls out of this rhyming roundelay is Klaus, who is shipped off to China. At least he is not without rhyme either, as he rhymes with the final word of the song: „Das Liebeslied ist jetzt aus.“
But that’s not quite true. Ten years later, Anna Depenbusch presents a continuation of Tina and Tim's story in her album “Echtzeit”: „Tim 2.0“

https://lyricstranslate.com/de/anna-dep ... yrics.html
Tim is now a top manager with everything that goes with it (house, boat, car, adrenaline, sometimes cocaine, cover picture on Gentlemen's Quarterly magazine). He no longer drinks, is in top shape and runs half marathons. But at night, when it gets dark, he lies awake because he feels lonely and thinks of his childhood sweetheart Tina. He googles her, and thanks to social media, he finds out that she does silk painting and dances Zumba. Finally, he calls her. She's doing great, living from day to day and is convinced that there is no problem in life that Zumba can't solve. Zumba may not be his thing, but he's willing to give it a try. And then Tim is standing in the gym, surrounded by women in flowing robes with colorful batik ribbons, And then he hears the music, and then he feels this beat and it all bursts out of him, and he grows beyond himself … „Und tanzt und tanzt und tanzt und tanzt und tanzt / Und er tanzt und tanzt und tanzt und tanzt und tanzt / Und er dreht und dreht und dreht und dreht und dreht.“ Tim cries and laughs because he realizes that dancing makes him feel alive. As a result, Tim and Tina are now very close, Tim is happy and dances as often as he can. The moral of the story: opposites attract each other and there is no problem in life that Zumba cannot solve.
This is, of course, pure cliché and not to be taken entirely seriously. The album is entitled “In Real Time” because Anna Depenbusch opted for a unique recording technique, the analog vinyl direct recording. The album was recorded live and completely analog in one piece, without cuts or breaks. This is in stark contrast to our years of optimization mania. We are all constantly supplied with new data and information by our digital devices - what does that do to us? Tim has googled Tina, “spied on her”, “studied her photos on Instagram and Facebook”, “he knows all her hobbies in every detail” – and ends dancing Zumba, surrounded by women in flowing robes with colorful batik ribbons. We can only wait with bated breath to find out what happened to poor homosexual Peter and what Klaus, who was dumped in China, makes of his love life now.

[Chrisinom]

Katja Ebstein: Theater
Song and lyrics: https://eurovisionworld.com/eurovision/1980/germany
With some artists, you can't help but get the impression that they have always been around. Katja Ebstein is one of them; for many years, she has always been present in some way or another - sometimes more, sometimes less - and at least among the older generation, there is hardly anyone who can't sing along to lines like “Theater, Theater, der Vorhang geht auf” or “Wunder gibt es immer wieder”. Katja Ebstein is also the most successful artist at the European Song Contest (ESC), then known as the Grand Prix d'Eurovision de la Chanson. She came third twice (in 1970 with “Immer wieder geht die Sonne auf” and in 1971 with “Diese Welt”) and came second in 1980 with “Theater”. Ebstein is the most successful performer to have taken part in the contest without ever winning.
Karin Witkiewicz began her singing career in the 1960s in the Berlin singer-songwriter scene. It was all about having fun: for a rather symbolic fee, she sang in the same pubs where others began their careers. Among them: Hannes Wader, Reinhard Mey and Insterburg & Co, the combo around Ingo Insterburg and Karl Dall, which very successfully cultivated the “art of higher nonsense” and thus basically invented what would later be offered for sale under the label of stand-up comedy. In the 1970s, Ebstein was one of the most successful German pop singers. The entertainment industry honored her with several awards: most popular foreign singer (Spain); Rosa di Roma (Italy); Goldene Europa (twice); Goldene Stimmgabel; Lale Andersen Prize; Fred Jay Prize. From 1974 onwards, Ebstein turned to chanson and cabaret. In 1975, EMI Electrola released the long-playing record “Katja Ebstein sings Heinrich Heine”, produced with the support of the Heinrich Heine Society.
With the director and author Klaus Überall, whom she married in 1979, Ebstein developed her acting talent from the early 1980s. Überall staged her first play, „Professor Unrat“, at the Ernst-Deutsch-Theater in Hamburg in 1980. Ebstein played the role of the „blue angel“ Rosa Fröhlich. Many other theater engagements followed, from the „Buhlschaft“ in „Jedermann“ to the pirate Jenny in Brecht's „Dreigroschenoper“. She took on leading roles in the musicals „Chicago“, „Sweet Charity“ and in 1993 in „Victor and Victoria“. Finally, she played Chaja in „Ghetto“ by Joshua Sobol at the Staatstheater Meiningen.
In addition to all this, Katja Ebstein has always been politically active. For example, she was a vocal campaigner for Willy Brandt's re-election. In addition to her commitment to Welthungerhilfe and various other medical and socio-political aid organizations, she set up the Katja Ebstein Foundation for socially disadvantaged and needy children in 2004. In 2005, she supported the “Strong Women” campaign for Heide Simonis. In January 2008, the Federal President honored her social commitment to children in need with the Cross of Merit on Ribbon of the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany. In 2016, she was elected by the Brandenburg state parliament as a member of the Federal Assembly and, in this capacity, took part in the election of the Federal President in 2017, in which Frank-Walter Steinmeier emerged victorious.
“Theater”, Kaja Ebstein's 1980 Eurovision song, offers German learners a range of words and idiomatic expressions related to the theme of the title: “(Sich) eine Maske aufsetzen” (put a mask on), “die / eine Rolle spielen” (play the/a role), “im Rampenlicht” (in the footlight), “der Vorhang geht auf” (the curtain opens), “die Bühne wird zur Welt” (the stage becomes the world), “nur der Augenblick zählt” (it’s only the moment that counts), “ein Traum erwacht zum Leben” (a dream comes back to life), “der Clown muss lachen, auch wenn ihm zum Weinen ist” (the clown has to laugh, even if he wants to cry), “der Held muss stark sein und für das Recht kämpfen” (the hero has to be strong, and fight for the right), “ihm ist vor Lampenfieber schlecht“ (he is sick with stage fright), “Alles ist nur Theater und ist doch auch Wirklichkeit“ (everything is just theater and yet it is also reality), “Theater (ist) das Tor zur Phantasie“ (theater is the gateway to fantasy), “Theater ist Leben und Traum“ (theater is life and dream), “Theater ist Anfang und Ende zugleich“(theater is the beginning and the end at the same time), “Wir geben alles für euch“ (we give everything for you), „(Wir) weinen und lachen für euch“ (we laugh and cry for you”).
And finally: “Theater, das ist wie ein Rausch“ (Theater is like intoxication). The Greek god Dionysus is the god of intoxication and the god of theater. The fascination of intoxication for artists of all genres is often that intoxication can lead to emotional highs as well as brutal crashes. Euripides, for example, in his Dionysus drama "The Bacchae", allows joyful dancing frenzy to turn into blind frenzy, which ultimately even leads to a mother killing her own child. Thomas Mann's artistic characters fall over by the dozen as soon as the creative frenzy has taken hold of them. If one examines the contribution of Grand Prix veterans Siegel/Meinunger with regard to this ambivalence of intoxication, it becomes clear that this text also develops from a harmlessly cheerful high to an uncontrollable high. The world is turned upside down. The space-time continuum dissolves.
On a temporal level, only the moment counts („zählt nur der Moment“). This already shows a first connecting element between the art of theater as art in the present tense, in which only the fleeting live performance counts, and the state of intoxication. Because in intoxication, only the now counts. Temporal parameters become blurred, a past and a future no longer seem to exist. Everything is now, beginning and end at the same time („Anfang und Ende zugleich“). And the concept of space also becomes amorphous: Heaven and hell at the same time („Himmel und Hölle zugleich“). Two absolute oppositions flow into each other through the equal order. There is no longer a top and bottom in the stage frenzy. The word “hell” also refers to its occupant, the devil. The devil is also called Diabolus and Diabolus means „muddler“. This is exactly what happens in a state of intoxication: everything is thrown into confusion.
In all the confusion, the curtain seems to be the only fixed spatial constant, as it divides the theatrical world into an upstage for the actors and a downstage for the audience: „Sie stehn oben und die unten schauen sie an.“ (They stand above and those below look at them.) When the curtain is lifted, the stage becomes the world (wird die „Bühne zur Welt“). However, the concept of baroque world theater is only seemingly served, because where the stage becomes the world in Ebstein's song, the world becomes the stage in the baroque sense. In the first part, this chiasmus describes an exclusive spatial concept with the stage world, but an inclusive one with the world stage. The spatial concept of the theater may also be exclusive, but once you have arrived in the world of the stage, its aura seems to open up and dissolve boundaries: Everything is just theater and yet is also reality/ theater - the gateway to fantasy („Alles ist nur Theater und ist doch auch Wirklichkeit / Theater, das Tor zur Phantasie“). Once the boundaries of reality have been overcome in a state of intoxication, perception becomes more intense. The gateway to the imagination opens and everything becomes psychedelically colorful. In his essay "The Doors of Perception", Aldous Huxley uses a similar door metaphor to describe mind-expanding processes. However, he did not go to the theater to do this, but instead took the hallucinogen mescaline.
The buzzwords “Entgrenzung" (dissolution of boundaries) and “Phantasie“ (fantasy) lead us to the Romantics and their longing for transcendence. And so it is only logical that Huxley took his essay title from the work "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" (1790-93) by the English Romantic William Blake: “If the doors of perception were cleansed / everything would appear to man as it is, infinite”. Time dissolves into infinity, “Anfang und Ende zugleich“ (beginning and end at the same time). The blending of spatial constants appears in the form of the marriage between heaven and hell, “Himmel und Hölle zugleich“ (heaven and hell at the same time). But it is not only the boundaries of perception and space and time that dissolve in the exclusive world of theater and intoxication; the identity of the actors is also affected: A collective they puts on a mask every night (setzt „jeden Abend eine Maske auf“). If you read the Greek persona - “mask“ - here, you could already recognize a tendency towards multiple personalities in the first lines of the song. In addition to space and time, fixed concepts of identity also become fleeting. The asyndeton “König, Bettler, / Clown (king, beggar,/clown) barely allows for a dividing line between the three vocations; only a comma prevents the final merging of such disparate identities as king, beggar and clown. The line break in the middle of the enumeration further emphasizes the merging of the identities.
Finally, the speaker is also caught up in the intoxicating confusion of identities: At the beginning, he soberly describes those above as “sie”, they, excluding himself. In the course of the play, he then has a good overview of both the actors and the audience. For example, he knows that the clown has to laugh even though he feels like crying inside, as well as that those sitting below do not notice this. Only a strange syntax may already reveal that the instance is sucked into the theatrical frenzy: “Und der Clown, der muss lachen” , „Und der Held, der muss stark sein“. The repeated modal verb „muss“ in combination with a seemingly infantile sentence structure suggests that the gateway to fantasy („Tor zur Phantasie“) will soon be passed through for good. And so the Dionysian stage fright finally takes hold of the speaker, who turns to an audience “ihr” at the end. In the last line, the collective of actors, previously separated as “sie”, suddenly becomes a „wir“: Yes, we'll give everything for you! („„Ja, wir geben alles für euch“).
Once again, this exclamation of euphoric enthusiasm reveals the two sides of intoxication. To borrow from the Greeks once again: taken literally, euphoria already carries the “good” within it: eu- means "good/well-" and -phoria goes back to the Greek verb phérein, "to carry". Intoxication therefore makes some things particularly enjoyable or easier to bear. Permanent intoxication, however, would be almost unbearable, as it would ultimately lead to a loss of control and finally to the complete consumption of the intoxicated person. Indeed: “We give everything for you!” Applaus (applause).

[Chrisinom]

Volker Lechtenbrink: Ich mag / Tocotronic: Aber hier leben, nein danke

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/de/volker-l ... yrics.html
Volker Lechtenbrink was born in Cranz/East Prussia in 1944. He spoke on NDR (Norddeutscher Rundfunk) children's radio at the age of eight. Two years later, he appeared on stage in a Christmas fairy tale at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus. In 1959, he became known throughout Germany in the role of Klaus Hager in Bernhard Wicki's anti-war film „Die Brücke“ (The Bridge). Four years later, Volker Lechtenbrink made his “real” theater debut at the Landesbühne Hannover in Shakespeare's „The Merchent oft Venice“ and became a member of the ensemble. This was followed by engagements at the stages of the city of Cologne and the Bayerisches Staatsschauspiel in Munich. From 1969 to 1983, he was engaged at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus in Hamburg, where he also directed. Since then, Volker Lechtenbrink has made guest appearances in Munich, Düsseldorf, Berlin, Hamburg and many other cities in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. He became known to a large German audience through his roles in numerous television films. In 1976, Lechtenbrink presented his highly acclaimed first long-playing record „Der Macher“. The title song is a cover version of Kris Kristofferson’s „The Taker“. This was followed by numerous other records and concert tours, which finally established Lechtenbrink among the greats of the German pop scene. „Ich mag“ from 1981 is one of his most popular songs.
The song is useful for German learners for two reasons. The first reason is linguistic. The text is simple in terms of its sentence structure, but contains a stumbling block for learners of German as a foreign language. It deals with the problem of how to express your preference for something in German. „Ich mag deutsche Musik, ich höre gerne deutsche Musik, deutsche Musik gefällt mir“ – there’s one translation in English for those three sentences, I like (listining to) German music. Likewise in other languages: J’aime (French), Me gusta (Spanish), Mi piace (Italian), Gosto de (Portuguese), Lubię (Polish). All three forms differ in sentence construction. The question now is: When is which word used?
Beginners usually learn how to express preferences in German early on in their course. However, as they usually learn them without much of an explanation on the grammatical differences between them, students usually think they can pick and choose whichever word they fancy using. Alas, things aren‘t that easy in German. The most common preference word in German is mögen. "Mögen" is a verb that is almost exclusively used with nouns and pronouns. Some examples: „Ich mag Tennis“, „Die Frau mag kein Fleisch“, „Ihr mögt keine Äpfel“. You can find the forms of this irregular verb here: https://www.verbformen.de/konjugation/mo3gen.htm. You shouldn’t use „mögen“ with an infinitive: *“Ich mag lesen“. This is a common mistake that even small native-speaking children and sometimes adults make, as can be seen in Lechtenbrink's song: „Ich mag …, / Wohnen, wo's nicht lärmt“. This can be explained by the structure of the poem, a kind of enumeration of preferences with “Ich mag”, as well as by the fact that the infinitive construction does not immediately follow “Ich mag ...”. You can get around the problem by inserting the pronoun “es” after the form of “mögen”: “Ich mag es zu lesen”. However, this is not very elegant stylistically.
So what to do to express a preference for an activity? The most elegant solution is to use the adverb “gern(e)”, which is used for preferences regarding verbs: „Ich spiele gern(e) Tennis“, „Die Frau isst nicht gern(e) Fleisch“. The position of adverbs like "gern" is normally third, straight after the conjugated verb. „Lieber" is the comparative form of gern and usually translates as prefer. We normally use it to suggest alternatives to what was said before. Someone might ask you „Spielst du gern Tennis” and you might want to respond “Ich spiele lieber Fußball”. So you prefer/you’d rather play football. „Am liebsten“ is the superlative form of gern(e) and communicates the strongest preferences, so when you like doing something the most: „Ich spiele am liebsten Volleyball“.
But what about the third variant, the verb “gefallen”? It is largely comparable to “mögen”, but is constructed differently in sentence structure: „Ich mag das Oktoberfest“ / „Mir gefällt das Oktoberfest“. So what I like is the direct object (Akkusativobjekt) of „mögen“ but the subject with „gefallen“, where the person that likes something becomes the indirect object (Dativobjekt). With regard to their meaning, there is often a considerable overlap so that both may apply. The differences are rather subtle: "gefallen" focuses on properties, while "mögen" centers around emotions. Das Mädchen da drüben gefällt mir = she has likable properties such as beauty, grace, clothing or whatever. „Ich mag sie (sehr gerne)“ = He has emotions for the girl. Can be as simple as trust or sympathy (e.g. to coworkers) or stronger like affections or attraction. „Gefallen = to find pleasant, pretty, attractive; it appeals to me. „Mögen = be fond of something / someone; arousing positive feelings. Another difference is closely linked to this: "mögen" is used to express "long term liking", while "gefallen" rather an immediate / spontaneous one. For example, if I go to a clothing store and I see a shirt, that I like, that would be "gefallen". But let's say that I buy it and after a year I want to tell my friend that the shirt is one of my favorite shirts, that would be "mögen".
A final word on the verb „mögen“, one of the most complicated verbs in German grammar. Its subjunctive 2 forms (ich möchte etc.) correspond to the English “I'd like to“ and are likewise constructed with the infinitive oft full verbs: "Ich möchte (gern) Deutsch lernen“ (I’d like to learn German). Last but not least, “mögen” is also a modal auxiliary verb that is etymologically related to the English “may / might” and expresses a conjecture: “Was mag er wohl denken?” (What might he think) / “Was mag das bedeuten” (What might that mean) / "Kommt sie?“ (Is she coming) – „(Das) mag sein“ (That may be.)
As the title says, Volker Lechtenbrink uses “Ich mag” throughout his song. This means that his preferences (for the sake of simplicity, I equate the author of the song with the speaker of the song) are emotionally anchored in him, part of a spectrum of values. Learning a language also means learning about the culture (in a broader sense) of a country and its historical context. Lechtenbrink’s values („was er mag“) have a lot to do with the history of post-war Germany and especially the period between 1968 and 1982. The protests oft the 68ers were directed against the post-war order, the Vietnam War, the rigid sexual morals, the lack of reappraisal of National Socialism and the rigid hierarchies. In addition to political and social criticism, there was also a cultural counter-movement that manifested itself in the areas of music, art, fashion and lifestyle. Hippie culture, alternative lifestyles and the search for new, individual forms of expression were important aspects. Overall, the '68 movement contributed to Germany becoming a more open and tolerant society. It has had a lasting influence on political, social and cultural life and made many of today's values and norms possible in the first place.
Very soon, however, a small part of the student movement became radicalized as the “RAF“ (Red Army Faction)”, also known as the “Baader-Meinhof Group”. The RAF was founded in 1970 after Andreas Baader was freed from prison, an action in which Ulrike Meinhof and others were involved. The group intended to overthrow the existing social order in West Germany through violence, inspired by the idea of the “urban guerrilla”. It recruited members from the left-wing scene and saw itself as anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist and anti-fascist. The RAF carried out numerous bomb attacks and assassinations, including the murder of Federal Prosecutor Siegfried Buback and Dresdner Bank CEO Jürgen Ponto. The arrest of the group's leading figures in June 1972 did not put an end to left-wing terrorism. The “German Autumn” of 1977 is regarded as the high point of RAF activities, with the kidnapping and murder of employer president Hanns Martin Schleyer and the hijacking of the Lufthansa plane “Landshut”. However, a special unit of the Federal Border Guard managed to storm the plane in Mogadishu and free the hostages. Andreas Baader and three other RAF leaders then committed suicide in their cells. One day later, Schleyer's body was found in the trunk of a car.
On a political level, the end of conservative CDU rule with the election of the Social Democrat Willy Brandt as Federal Chancellor in 1969 was a result of the profound change in values at the end of the 1960s. His successor Helmut Schmidt continued Brandt's social-liberal coalition and had to overcome economic crises, try to prevent an escalation of the Cold War with the Soviet Union and oppose the blackmail attempts of the RAF. Due in particular to the differing economic policy attitudes of his liberal coalition partner, the Free Democratic Party (FDP), there was a constructive vote of no confidence in parliament in 1982, which elected the Christian Democrat Hekmut Kohl as Chancellor. In the 1980 Bundestag election campaign, Kohl had already spoken of the need for a spiritual and moral turnaround („geistig-moralische Wende“), thus setting himself apart from then Chancellor Helmut Schmidt, whom he accused of capitulating to the spirit of the times. („Zeitgeist“). According to Kohl, a federal government must demonstrate “political and spiritual leadership” through decisive action. At the same time, a new party formed at the other end of the political spectrum, the Greens, a party of the anti-nuclear and environmental movements, the New Social Movements, the peace movement and the New Left of the 1970s.
What does Volker Lechtenbrink like, what values does he share with whom? The song obviously contains many things that were also of value in the 50s and 60s. Here, even though Lechtenbrink lived in Hamburg, German provincial „Gemütlichkeit“ is celebrated, supplemented by some integrated aspects of Anglo-American and European culture. For example, the original German “Skat mit Ramsch und Bock” (Skat is the most popular German card game, Ramsch and Bock are elements of the game) is joined by “Pokern, nächtelang“ (poker all night long), “trock’ne(r), herbe(r) Wein“ (dry, tart wine) by “Whisky ohne Eis“ (whisky without ice), and “Country songs und Rock” by the music of the composers “Mozart, Mahler, Bach”, all of whom come from German-speaking countries. The type of rock involved is made clear - unless you see the two musical styles as opposites - by the sequence with “country songs”: it is not about rock as an expression of rebellion, not about the blues elements originating from the culture of the oppressed African-American population, but about the ‘white’ hillbilly elements of rock'n'roll. It is therefore not about sexually charged dance music, but about songs that can be sung along to an acoustic guitar while drinking around the campfire. The excess is limited to „das Durchmachen von Nächten“ (having an all-night party, presumably Saturday nights, followed by Sundays in bed („Sonntage im Bett“). The freedom is limited to swimming around with no bottom, whereby the play on words “Schwimmen ohne mit” indicates the uptightness. Otherwise, family values („Mama und Papa“, „meine Tochter, meinen Sohn“) and local patriotism („Hamburg, meine Stadt“) are cultivated, regardless of the possible “Trennung ohne Zwang“ (separation without quarrelling), and on weekdays, as can be deduced ex negativo from the Sundays spent in bed, people naturally work. Alongside the rich Sunday lunch such as “Eisbein richtig fett” (pork knuckle really fat), the “Bockwurst aus der Hand” (large frankfurter out of the hand) is a quick snack on weekdays.
However, the national soccer player Paul Breitner and the writer and Nobel Prize winner Heinrich Böll are two personalities „liked“ by Lechtenbrink who are definitely part of the left-wing spectrum. But political implications are rejected: Paul Breitner is liked for his game („sein Spiel“) and not for his role as a rebel who wore an afro , turned up for training with a Mao bible and insulted both coaches and DFB (German Soccer Association) officials. On January 10, 1972, Heinrich Böll wrote an article in the political magazine "Der Spiegel" denouncing the „Bild“ (largest German tabloid) newspaper's coverage of a bank robbery in Kaiserslautern on December 23, 1971 under the title "Baader-Meinhof gang continues to murder", which blamed the group for the crime without there being any concrete evidence at the time. In his story “Die verlorene Ehre der Katharina Blum oder: Wie Gewalt entstehen oder wohin sie führen kann” he takes a critical look at the practices of the tabloid press. Yet to Lechtenbrink he does not appeal as a politically committed writer, but - in petty bourgeois devotion - because he has an impressive education („Böll, der so viel weiß"). The grandparents' generation is not perceived historically as the generation of perpetrators during the Third Reich, but in their timelessly stable role as emotionally devoted “grannies” („Omis“). No relation to social or political issues disturbs the hedonistic satisfaction between knuckle of pork, bockwurst, tenderness and lust („Zärtlichkeit und Lust“) with the self-confident (in context probably more ‘not uptight’ than "emancipated’) woman („Frauen selbstbewusst“).
An idyll is created here that is fixed in time and geography, but in its Biedermeier comfort, the elements that signal contemporaneity are interchangeable at will, which is also shown by the fact that the text, apart from the mention of Paul Breitner, could have been written in the 1950s - with the difference that the commitment to rock at that time would still have tended to be progressive. The complete absence of contemporary popular culture gives the list a conservative slant, with rock becoming ‘good, old, handmade’ rock as opposed to the electronic pop that was widespread in 1981.
The conservative nature of the song is also evident in the relationship to nature described: against the decay and destruction aesthetics of punk and the cold neon aesthetics of New Wave, i.e. urban aesthetics, “Leben, wo’s nicht lärmt“ (living where there's no noise) is set, against the broken aesthetic affirmation of the ugly and artificial, the immediate sensual experience of nature of barefoot mudflat walking („Barfuß geh’n im Watt“) That is another example of local patriotism like the following references to the North Sea coast, where nature is described as a place of vital power and beauty: Winds should blow strongly („Winde, die stark weh’n“), waves are beautiful when they are high („schöne hohe Well’n“), and rain should pour („Regen wenn er gießt“). Transferred to the interpersonal sphere, this means heterosexuality with the result of procreation as a counter-model to the homosexuality demonstratively staged in 1980s pop. The romantic ideal of love that dominates in rock and pop is replaced by a perception of the partner as a person who makes a special contribution to one's own well-being, because she is „liked“ in the same way as the listed luxury foods and leisure activities, only “ganz doll” - a declaration of love can hardly move much further away from the romantic ideal of love. „Doll“ is colloquial northern and north eastern German for „toll“, sehr, stark. “Hdgdl” (Hab dich ganz doll lieb) is a colloquial expression of love that is often used in text messages, WhatsApp or other chat services. The abbreviations “HDL” and “HDGDL” were the first abbreviations of German words on the internet. It is one of the oldest abbreviations used in German-speaking countries and is therefore almost extinct in current German youth language. However, HDGDL is increasingly being used by “digital immigrants”, i.e. people who have not grown up with digitalization but have to get used to all the technical innovations and, for example, the use of a cell phone.
The partial affirmation of wildness and naturalness has nothing revolutionary about it here, does not represent a counter-world as in Henry David Thoreau's Walden, but on closer inspection exhausts itself in a conservative, pure gesture of preservation: this is most evident in the professed affection for “Hunde, die noch bell’n“ (dogs that still bark): Which dogs would not do this, or not anymore? The confrontation with a counterfact of the song by the pop-punk band Die Piddlers makes the meaninglessness of the affirmation of barking dogs particularly visible, as it says: “Ich mag Hunde, die noch beißen / und in jede Ecke scheißen“ (I like dogs that still bite / and shit in every corner). In other words, characteristics are valued here that dogs are generally actually trained to lack.
https://lyricsondemand.com/die_piddlers/ich_mag/video
Finally, when the advertising department of Caro Kaffee had Lechtenbrink sing his song for a Caro Landkaffee commercial in a rewritten version, they probably wanted to use the cozy aesthetic already identifiable in the original to build their image:

Lyrics: http://swu.keep-moving.at/wp-content/up ... g-1991.pdf
This text can be read as an abridged version of the original song text: Right in the first line, a corresponding abstraction takes place: „Ich mag das Schöne dieser Welt“. Then, in keeping with the product, it is about domesticated nature (the - probably gentle – “Wind im Roggenfeld ” takes the place of the “Winde die stark weh’n”), the nights are no longer used in their entirety, but are only discussed “bis in die Nacht”. This removal of all supposedly ‘wild’ elements from the described world distorts Lechtenbrink's original to the point of recognizability: after all, it too has created nothing other than a ‘male’ coded version of the afternoon coffee.
Due to its easily varied enumeration structure, the song has attracted further counterfacts, including from Rolf Zuckowski, a German singer-songwriter. He has written and composed music especially for children. He varied the verses in relation to a child's world and ended the refrain with “und ganz doll mich”.

The latest counterfact “Song for Donald Trump” from the German satirical TV program “Extra 3” also ends like this, of course:
https://lyricstranslate.com/en/song-für ... yself.html
In addition to Anglo-American culture, Lechtenbrink's song also features two names from the Romance language world: the Italian-American actor Lino Ventura and the Belgian painter René Margitte. As a representative of surrealism, the latter falls outside the world of “Ich mag”. This reference to surrealism could have triggered Tocotronic's 2005 rejection of the very German lifestyle that the original celebrates. Their refrain, which replaces the original refrain, reads, like the song title, “Aber hier leben, / Nein danke“:

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/aber-hie ... hanks.html
In an interview with the magazine “Der Stern”, the band's frontman Dirk von Lotzow confirmed that Lechtenbrink's song with the repeated “Ich mag” influenced their song. The “Nein danke” has its origins in the slogan of the anti-nuclear power movement oft the seventies, „Atomkraft – nein danke“. “Aber hier leben, nein danke” is not just a song by Tocotronic, but also a quote that has held something of a cult status in Austria since 2005. The Austrian singer Gustav used these words to express her gratitude for the highest Austrian pop award: the “Amadeus”. The statement was presumably meant as a rejection of the right-wing policies of the then black-blue government under the conservative Wolfgang Schüssel and the right-wing populist Jörg Haider. The song title is also the title of an exhibition at the Lenbachhaus in Munich from October 15, 2024 to March 30, 2025 on the subject of “Surrealism and Fascism”. Surrealism was not only an international artistic movement, but also a political one. Its members denounced European colonial policy, organized themselves against fascist tendencies, fought for the Spanish Republic, were persecuted, went into exile and fell in the war against the National Socialists. They wrote poetry, deconstructed a supposedly rational language in a rational world, worked on paintings, collective drawings, took photographs and made collages. Surrealism was not associated with later emancipatory concerns as a style, but as a method, and was taken up by the 1968 movement and the Black Civil Rights Movement.
The reference to surrealism is palpable in the first song on Tocotronic's album “Pure Vernunft darf niemals siegen“ (Pure Reason Must Never Win).The artists of surrealism set themselves the goal of creating a superordinate reality, a “super-reality” within their works and expanding human consciousness. Artists and writers who made the dreamlike and fantastically absurd the subject of their works thus became the focus of this art movement. Dreams, states of intoxication, visions, wishes, desires and suffering were seen as a source of artistic inspiration. The lyrics juxtaposed Lechtenbrink'serenity with anger („Wut“), reason with magic („Zauberkraft“), binary logic with the compatibility of opposites („flüstern, dass es schallt“, whisper that it resounds), moderation with excess , belonging with self-exile, carefreeness with trepidation („erschaudern“).
The second verse contrasts Lechtenbrink's warming sun and walks on the mudflats in the strong wind with a night landscape with "clouds", “wind” and a light that brings an unspecified „you". What follows seems like the portrayal of a state of intoxication. Madness („Wahnsinn“) gives a fiery greeting, dreams („Träume“) give off sparks, white flowers bloom and angels before the fall are diamonds from outer space („Diamanten aus dem All“). Finally, the third verse distorts reality to the point of recognisability. In a mirage („Spiegelung der Luft“), the longing (Sehnsucht“) that never fizzles out („verpufft“, literally deflagrates) never dies out, endures. The splendour of life („Glanz des Lebens“) is realised in one day’. Gnawing doubt („der Zweifel, der an mir nagt“) becomes a positive state when fear fades („wenn meine Angst mich schnell verlässt"). The dance, the party of idiots („Idiotentenz“), the wandering in circles at night time („irren nachts im Kreis“) turn out to be a movement against diligence („eine Bewegung gegen den Fleiß“).
The album „Pure Vernunft darf niemals siegen“ is a musical frontal assault on reality of almost Handke-like proportions. The ironic mirror fencing of days gone by, when Tocotronic songs sounded like inner-world greeting cards from a sensitive boys' clique, has given way to an artificial, high-flown seriousness: In this fact-obsessed present, says von Lowtzow now, "it's almost revolutionary to deal with the spiritual and emotional. What used to be called escapism is now a radical political gesture." In the opening piece „Aber hier leben, nein danke“, the musicians' anger at what they call „flight to reality“ (von Lowtzow) is directed against the compulsion to feel that they belong in Germany; key words: dual citizenship (doppelte Staatsbürgerschaft), dominant culture („Leitkultur“). Von Lowtzow counters the diffuse climate of this appropriation with everything he really „likes“ - including: Animals in the forest at night, the self-exile, white flowers, angels about to fall.
Linguistically, the song is much more difficult than „Was ich mag“, if only because of its surrealistic imagery. It is striking that Tocotronic use“‘Ich mag“ with a direct object throughout, for example in the first line: ‘Ich mag’s ( mag es) wenn ...’. The many temporal clauses with ‘if’ are somewhat reminiscent of a famous poem by the Romantic poet Novalis: „Wenn nicht mehr Zahlen und Figuren“:
(https://www.deutschelyrik.de/wenn-nicht ... guren.html
Black Romanticism (E.T.A. Hoffmann, Mary Shelley) , Symbolism, Decadent Literature, Surrealism: That is the literary tradition in which the album stands. Dirk von Lotzow again: "I think that the times are very prosaic, extremely consensus-orientated and reason-orientated. That's why we want to counter this with a defiant kind of poetics. I would see that as quite heretical".

[MoniqueMaRie]

Hallo @Chrisinom
Wie lange dauert es eigentlich, so eine ausführliche Abhandlung über ein Musikstück (im aktuellen Fall sogar zwei) zu schreiben?
Ich würde bestimmt mindestens einen ganzen Arbeitstag dafür aufwenden müssen - 'mal abgesehen davon, dass Aufsätze nicht zu meinen Stärken gehören.

Ich komme, wenn überhaupt, nur am Wochenende dazu, es zu lesen.

[Chrisinom]

Marius Müller-Westerhagen: Freiheit / Jens Friebe: Frei

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/freiheit-freedom.html-3
Two songs about freedom with 35 years between them, one by the most popular German rock singer of the 80s and beyond, alongside Herbert Grönemyer, and the other by a pop artist of the 20th century known only to a few. The German Federal Agency for Civic Education defines freedom as follows: "To put it simply: if there is no coercion, there is freedom. If you can decide for yourself what you do, you are free. Freedom is part of fundamental and human rights and of every modern democracy. But it does not mean complete freedom. My freedom must not restrict the freedom of other people. This is also stated in our constitution, which is also known as the “Freiheitlich-demokratische Grundordnung“ (Free and democratic basic order). Based on these fundamental, comparatively everyday definitions, it can already be seen that there is a personal, a legal and a political dimension to freedom and that all three are interrelated.
It is also important to consider the historical context of the songs and the concept of freedom. Wsternhagen's single was written and released in 1987 as part of his album ‘Westernhagen’. The song was then released as a single in a live version on 18 September 1990, one year after the fall of the Berlin Wall and in the context of German reunification. Together with "Winds of Change" by the Scorpions, "Freiheit" has become a reunification classic. In an interview with the magazine ‘Der Spiegel’ in 2016, Westernhagen described how he ‘didn't have the fall of the Wall or reunification in mind’ when he conceived the song. In an interview with ‘Rheinpfalz’ (2010), the artist is even clearer: ‘I didn't believe in anything like that (i.e. the fall of the Wall) at the time, but resigned myself to the eternal existence of two German states.’ The piece now shows that artistic products can take on a life of their own. Obviously, it was the last two lines of the song that triggered this political interpretation of the day: ‘Freiheit Freiheit / ist das einzige was zählt“ (Freedom freedom / is the only thing that counts)
The artist has also admitted that he used free association when producing the lyrics, meaning that he did not necessarily follow a clear line of reasoning: "I never thought “Freiheit” was such a fantastic song. I'd had the melody for years and always thought: What on earth are you going to write on it?" (Spiegel, 2016). It is therefore not a consistently logical train of thought, but rather associations with the term ‘freedom’. The first two stanzas could be read as a consistent situation: „Die Verträge sind gemacht“: As a contract („Vertrag“) is a final, official and legally binding document at the end of a negotiation process, it can be assumed that there must have been negotiations, disputes or similar between two or more parties beforehand. This disagreement has now been resolved with the signing of the contract. The conjunction ‘und’ in line 2 creates a direct link to the previous line. The laughter („es wurde viel gelacht“) as an expression of joy and happiness, perhaps relief, thus indicates that there is a reason to be happy about the successful conclusion of the contract and thus the end of the disagreements. The third line of the verse also establishes the connection to the previous sentence through the connector "und". A sweet dessert („Etwas Süßes zum Dessert“), such as a cake or a pie, can be interpreted as a symbol for a celebration, which - especially with the connotation of dessert - functions as a rewarding end. If the treaties are interpreted as treaties between states, for example, the dessert could mark the end of a successful state dinner. With the term „Freiheit“ in the refrain, the song names the actual topic for the first time and puts what was previously sung into context: the contract negotiations were obviously about disputes over freedom; it can be assumed that at least one of the parties involved had no freedom at all. The conclusion of the contract gives this party a right to freedom.
With the „Kapelle“ (band) in the second stanza the image of a solemn official occasion with a musical band playing an energetic onomapoetic ‘rumm ta ta’ waltz intensifies. Listeners presumably associate this verse with images of a state band at a state reception or a marching band at a ceremonial parade, so in addition to the celebratory connotation, the reference to a state level also seems to be reinforced. The conjunction "und", which introduces the second line of the verse, initially leads the listener to assume that the previously mentioned band is accompanying the reception of the head of the Catholic Church. However, this is relativised by the enumerating adverb "auch". The „Papst“ (Pope – when the song was written, it was John Paul II, the „Travel Pope“) is "only" another symbolic figure, as his presence indicates the unprecedented significance of the important event with an as yet not specified background. The following line indicates for the first time the at least indirect involvement or participation of an individual in the event. The ‘neighbour’, on the one hand as an expression of community, on the other hand as a representative of the everyman, of any, perhaps equal or like-minded fellow citizen, indicates in connection with the movement-indicating, first-placed localisation „vornweg“ (ahead, up front) the urgent enthusiasm, the intended participation in the event. The conjunction ‘und’ inserts the neighbour into the image of the parade.
The second version of the refrain leads to a disillusioning turn in the song. The renewed repetition seems to follow on from the first mention and invites the listener to incorporate the added associations into the canon of understanding the definition of freedom. Through simple, repetitive mention of the term instead of offering rational explanatory links, the listeners are literally conditioned to take it as granted. Through the following relative clause (“ist die einzige die fehlt“), the entire content now takes a dramatic turn: the absence of concrete freedom. The listeners are now faced with a contradiction. All the previous verses indicate that there is cause for rejoicing as freedom has now become an available right after negotiations; however, this verse denies the whole its validity or justification. The resolution of the conflict can be found in the opposition of abstract and concrete: the lack of concrete, tangible freedom leads the celebrated arrival of general freedom ad absurdum - without concreteness, freedom remains a diffuse illusion.
The third verse develops the singer's dichotomous image of man. ‘Man’ stands for the human race or all people in the world. On the one hand, the singular refers to the individual level, every single person without exception or man as a natural species. The human characteristics ‘naive’ and ‘primitive’ are contrasted. All humans, or rather the natural species of man, are ‘not naive’, i.e. not blindly trusting without ulterior motives (and therefore absolutely free). On the other hand, humans are “primitive” by nature, i.e. instinct-driven and selfish in the interests of survival and therefore unfree slaves to themselve) and therefore not capable of unconditional trust in their peers. The repeated adverb „leider“ (unfortunately) expresses the singer's regret about the absence or presence of these human qualities respectively.
In the following version of the refrain, freedom was cancelled again („wurde wieder abbestellt“). Without naming a concrete subject, freedom - transformed back into an abstract term by the preceding articulate repetition - is cancelled. The derivative of the verb „bestellen“ evokes the context „service“, such as pub or restaurant, where concrete things are naturally brought to the person ordering by simply asking. Although a general abstract term, freedom is objectified here again and can be conveniently requested. However, it is cancelled because satisfaction has obviously already been achieved through other orders. The preceding „wieder“ indicates that although freedom represented a desire, a need for a moment, halfway through it was felt to be superfluous, unimportant. Thus, by formulating it in the past tense, the entire process up to that point, including freedom itself, is quickly degraded to a matter of course by being understood retrospectively as a banal order. It is thereby accepted to return to the state before the contract negotiations. The deliberate avoidance of identifying a specific someone once again offers open scope for interpretation. The listeners are invited to question themselves as (partially) responsible for the act of cancellation, but the simple non-mention of a subject through the use of the passive voice primarily expresses the subordination, the irrelevance of that subject. As in ‘is the only one missing’, the focus is on the absence of freedom
In the last verse, Westernhagen addresses people specifically, which forms a contrast to the previously omitted subject. With the relative clause, however, he restricts the circle of addressees to those people who (still) have the desire for freedom, for whom freedom is so important that they dream of it, even if, or precisely because, it is absent. So there are two groups here. One group rejects freedom, freedom has become meaningless to them; the other, on the other hand, has a desire for freedom and is in favour of it. By dividing the group, it is also made clear that freedom is not completely absent, but that has only been abandoned by this one group, perceived as superfluous or irrelevant. The previously excluded group of supporters is explicitly called upon by the modal verb ‘should’ to further separate themselves from the opponents of freedom and to celebrate („feiern“) the cheerful times after the treaties were signed. They should thus continue to value the freedom they have gained and not take it for granted or even consider it superfluous. The call can certainly be interpreted as a peaceful, but also militant call to protest. As an expression of their joy, they should also dance on graves („auch auf Gräbern tanzen“), the last witnesses of a living past. What could appear to be an irreverent breach of taboo is a quote that triggered Westernhagen's lyrics. By his own admission, he came up with it during a sightseeing tour in Paris: "A phrase from the French Revolution came up: Our grandchildren would dance on our graves”. Of course, the appeal to celebrate with abandon can also simply be understood as an appeal to the audience present at a concert. This becomes abundantly clear when Müller-Westerhagen inserts ‘Just like us here tonight!’ at this point in the live version.
The phrase „das einzige was zählt“ (the only thing that matters) in the last version of the chorus as the song's finale makes it clear that freedom is the most important and highest good above everything else imaginable. It is what matters - regardless of everything that has been said before, all ideas and individual or collective views.
‘Freiheit’ is probably Westernhagen's best-known song. He himself is more sceptical and rarely sings it at concerts: "I don't think “Freiheit” is the best song I've ever written. But it means a lot to many people. I only use the song in carefully measured doses, most recently at the solidarity concert for Ukraine in front of the Brandenburg Gate. In view of the current world situation, he still considers "Freedom" to be relevant. Obviously later events can influence a text and its interpretation and change its meaning. The aesthetics of reception, an approach in literary studies that deals with the effect of texts on the reader, emphasises that the interpretation of a work depends crucially on the reader's experiences and expectations. Westernhagen's song has been reinterpreted in many contexts, not always in his favour. During the coronavirus years, opponents of the coronavirus measures used the cult hit at demonstrations to protest against the state measures, which they saw as an infringement of their freedom. The singer remained silent about this for a long time, but then he is finally responded to the abuse and showed what he thinks of the coronavirus deniers. In a photo, Westernhagen showed himself receiving a vaccination and captioned the picture with the word: ‘Freedom’.
The corona pandemic is also the context for Jens Friebe's seventh album ‘Wir sind schön’ and the first single from the album, „Frei“. Friebe says in an interview: ‘I was fascinated by the negative way intellectuals took completely impossible positions that were associated with lateral thinkers („Querdenker“) and knew how to dress them up in highfalutin, subtle thought structures.“ „Querdenker“ is in German a follower of a protest movement against the Covid restrictions. They went so far as to compare those in favour of corona measures with Adolf Eichmann and saw the measures as a dictatorial encroachment on their civil liberties. In this context, it can be assumed that Friebe's song refers to this context.

Sinnce the text is not yet available online, I’ll comment on it line by line.
„Alle die das hören sind frei“ (4x)
An enigmatic beginning. Does that mean that only those who hear the song are free? Does hear here mean hear or listen? In principle, the song is accessible to everyone, but the number of listeners to Friebe songs is not large. The chorus with which the song begins seems to ask the listener to listen carefully.
„So wie der Wind in den Weiden, so wie der Wind“
„The Wind in the Willows“ is a children's novel by the British novelist Kenneth Grahame from 1908. Grahame’s story of boating, caravanning and picnicking and the hijinks of a cross-dressing amphibian is also a paean to the English landscape and Nature’s bounty. The book’s setting is deliberately idyllic and it lovingly conjures up images of meadow, bank and wood. All that’s absent are willows themselves, never mentioned by Grahame. According to a widespread perception, nature makes people feel free. The vision of a rough sea, the storms, sailing aimlessly on a sailboat, letting the rain soak us, beating the biggest wave with the surfboard, getting lost in a forest, breathing fully in the middle of a meadow , on the shore of the beach, surrounded by a breeze that gives us wings - these situations, and countless others like them, often convey an indescribable feeling of freedom or, at least, a liberating feeling, which helps us to cope with the day-to-day routine.
„So wie der Sturm der die Schiffe versenkt / Strom der die Brücken verschlingt““ (Like the storm that sinks the ships / Like the river that swallows the bridges)
At this point, freedom in nature turns into the loss of life through the forces of nature in two different versions of the refrain. With regard to overflowing rivers, many Germans think of the 2021 flood disaster in the Ahr Valley, in which 135 people lost their lives. The disaster destroyed many homes and infrastructure, and reconstruction is still a challenge.
„So wie die nackte Haut am helllichten Tag“ (Like bare skin in broad daylight)
"Am helllichten Tag" is an idiom that means during the day, when people and things are clearly visible, and not at night. It can also, and this is the case here, be used to emphasise particular audacity when an act (like nudism, in German „Freikörperkultur“) or crime occurs in broad daylight and in public.
„So wie der Markt, zu dem ich sie trag, zu dem ich sie trag“ (Just like the market to which I carry it)
Another turnaround: „Seine Haut zu Markte tragen“ means to expose oneself to market competition, to do (low-paid) work. This is the flipside of „freie Marktwirtschaft“ (free market economy). Etymologically, the saying goes back to the Middle Ages: In the Middle Ages, the market was a place of trade where various goods were offered for sale. The tanners who sold their hides and skins jeopardised their entire livelihood, as the success of their sales was uncertain.
„Alle die das hören sind frei … so wie der Wind der die Schiffe versenkt.“
„So wie die nackte Haut am helllichten Tag, so wie der übliche Staffelvertrag“ (Just like the usual step rent)
Another version of the thesis that a free market economy leads to social problems. Excessive rents and housing shortages are one of Germany's most pressing social problems, especially in large cities. Lease contract with stepped rent contribute to the high burden on tenants.
„So wie ein Fass ohne Boden, so wie der Boss“ (Like a bottomless pit, like the boss)
The phrase "ein Fass ohne Boden" means that something constantly requires new costs, effort or investment without ever achieving a satisfactory result. It is a metaphor for a situation in which resources or efforts are drained away without bringing tangible progress or success.
The phrase has its origins in Greek mythology, where the Danaids were condemned to draw water into a bottomless pit. In view of constantly rising prices, many people feel that they can no longer cope with their income. Wage earners tend to blame the bosses, the free entrepreneurs, who in their eyes arbitrarily raise prices and do not hesitate to pay decent wages.
„So wie der Cop der in Notwehr schoss“ (Like the cop who shot in self-defence)
In Germany, a police officer may use a firearm if there is an extremely dangerous situation in which a person must be attacked or the escape of a criminal must be prevented. This is regulated in various laws at federal and state level, whereby the law of self-defence („Notwehr“) can also play a role. Cases such as the death of African-American George Perry Floys in Minnesota in May 2020 also exist in Germany, such as the fatal police shooting of 16-year-old Mouhamed Dramé in Dortmund in the summer of 2022 or a 21-year-old black man shot in the back in Oldenburg in April of this year.
„Alle die das hören sind frei“ (2x) / „So wie ein Feuilletonboy“ (Like a feuilleton boy)
As an artist, Jens Friebe is heavily dependent on reviews in the arts pages of the press and other media, especially as he is hardly known to the general public despite a career spanning more than 20 years. Yet Friebe is far better placed in the feature pages than with the general public. talkingmusic.de writes that his album „has something inviting about it with its catchy melodies and colourful electronic sounds“. For plattentests.de, ‘the most creative minds often remain largely on the sidelines’. According to musikexpress.de, Friebe's lyrics are „concrete and ambiguous at the same time“. "Jens Friebe uses“, writes ByteFM, „all kinds of barbs and ambiguities in his songs to ensure that hopeful does not become pathetic and vice versa, that slightly ironic does not become cynical and fatalistic". For tipberlin.de, Jens Friebe is „probably the most casual discourse pop songwriter in the city“. "Der Freitag" says: "“Wir sind schön” is an upbeat record despite its secrets and allusions. At least ‘as upbeat as it gets’ - in the year 2022, with all its shitty ingredients." According to „taz“, Friebe's album is "sober and elegant at the same time. Friebe's songs mischievously pretend that they don't want much at first. But you quickly realise how skilfully Friebe has equipped them with bon mots and charm."
On the other hand, Friebe, who studied musicology, English and philosophy, also knows the other side and the dependencies of the feature writer. He wrote for the music magazine “Intro” for several years.
„Wenn man einem Mann einen Fisch gibt / Hat er einen Fisch“ (If you give a man a fish / He has a fish)
Simple, isn’t it?
„Aber was, wenn man ihn mit der Angel verdrischt?“ (But what if you beat him with a fishing rod?)
Yes, what then? Perhaps the man will then realise that a fish is in a lot of pain when it is caught with a fishing rod. Jens Friebe also works as an ambassador in a quasi part-time job: he pleads in favour of giving up meat. This becomes particularly clear in a song from his second album, „Theke mit den Toten“ (The counter with the dead, the meat department in the supermarket). The song says: "...Department shop is paradise / Slaughterhouse bloody dungeon".
„Frei ist nur, wer nichts zu verlieren hat / Hab ich im Ohr / Ich hatte die Platte aber ich hab sie verlorn“
„Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose“ (Janis Joplin, Me and Bobby McGee?: https://janisjoplin.com/song/me-and-bobby-mcgee/
For a good German translation that captures the style and the mood of the song: https://www.swr3.de/musik/poplexikon/ly ... s-100.html
In other words: Property is bondage.
„Frei von Steuern steuern, feiern die Freiherrn (?) / An sonnigen Stränden und ihre getreuen Seeungeheuer / Bewachen die Küste mit Feuer“ (Free from taxes, the barons / freemen steer, celebrate / On sunny beaches and their faithful sea monsters / Guard the coast with fire)
Jems Friebe sings somewhat indistinctly here, but the message is clear: it's about the super-rich, the new aritocrats ("Freiherrn"), who shield their private islands and beaches from the public with security services that make use of firearms. The freedom of the few comes at the expense of the exclusion, if necessary by force, of the many. In other words: ‘Property is the lack of freedom of others’
„Und ihr Gesicht vestecken sie nicht / Und ihre Partei heißt Live and Let Die“ (And they don't hide their faces / And their party is called Live and let Die)
In contrast to criminals, the super-rich operate with an open visor. The phrases "live and let live" and "live and let die" convey different attitudes toward life and interpersonal relationships. „Live and let live“ promotes tolerance and acceptance. It suggests that individuals should allow others to live their lives as they choose, without interference, as long as it does not harm anyone else. It embodies a peaceful coexistence and encourages understanding and respect for differing lifestyles, beliefs, and choices. „Live and let die“ implies a more fatalistic or ruthless approach to life. It suggests that one should focus on their own survival or success, even if it means disregarding or sacrificing others. It can be interpreted as a commentary on the harsh realities of life, where one might need to prioritize their own interests over others, often in a competitive or hostile environment. „ Homo homini lupus es“ (Hobbes)
„Alle die das hören sind frei / Frei wie ein rollender Stein“
Another quote that evokes opposing contexts. “A rolling stone (including Mick Jagger & Co) sets no moss” (proverb) vs. How does it feel / To be on your own / With no direction home / Like a complete unknown / Like a rolling stone? (Bob Dylan)
„Wie ein trollendes Schwein“ (Like a pig on a troll)
What looks like a four-beat rhyming corny joke at first glance is another version of Friebe's vegetarianism. A trolling pig is free, not trapped in a tight cage.
Alle die das hören sind frei … / So wie der Wind in den Weiden … / So wie die nackte Haut … / Alle die das hören sind frei“
Friebe's song deconstructs the concept of freedom on several levels. Depending on the perspective, freedom means different, even contradictory things, and in the context of the political discourse on the coronavirus measures, the criticism of the “lateral thinkers (Querdenker)” who accused the government of taking a dictatorial approach and disregarding individual freedom is evident.

[Chrisinom]

Peter Fox: Schwarz zu Blau

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/schwarz- ... -blau.html
Peter Fox, Enuff and Pierre Baigorry are one and the same person. Pierre, the child of a French Basque woman from St Etienne De Baigorry (the name means something like ‘by the red river’), is a native Berliner, someone who is attached to his city but can neither get along 100% with it nor completely without it, and the red-haired (hence his aka Fox) singer, songwriter and producer is stepping into the limelight with dancehall powerhouse „Seeed“. The eleven-piece band's first concert took place on the „Insel der Jugend“ and was a benefit gig for the Yaam club, which - alongside venues such as Escobar, Acud and the Tanzbar - is considered the nucleus of Berlin's reggae scene. When things got serious with Seeed, Pierre was faced with the question of whether to finish his studies in special education or devote himself fully to music. After completing his basic studies, he dropped out and Seeed took off. Baigorry stood behind the controls for them and produced the majority of the dancehall caballeros' sound for quite some time. After the release of the DVD “Live”, he set about producing music outside of the Seeed context. The result of his studio tinkering was released in September 2008 under the title “Stadtaffe” (City Monkey) and gradually became a triumph for the bustling Berliner. Initially, the singles “Haus Am See” and “Alles Neu” impressively ensured that the world found out about Seeed solo mover Peter. The ravenous appetite for “Stadtaffe” then ensured a very good position on the silver podium of the German charts. Fox also received the 1Live crown for “Album of the Year” in 2008. But it wasn't until 2009 that the avalanche really started rolling. With the third single release “Schwarz Zu Blau”, Fox won the Bundesvision Song Contest with Stefan Raab and finally knocked Bruce Springsteen out of first place in the German charts with “Stadtaffe” - a full 20 weeks after its release.
“Schwarz zu Blau” is a song that is often used in German lessons, both in foreign language lessons and in literature lessons. For advanced learners of German, it offers an example of everyday spoken German in addition to the focus on the German capital. At the same time, it is quite appealing from a literary point of view
Musicians who focus on their hometowns almost inevitably seek confrontation: they rub up against their cities, criticize and praise, insult, curse and condemn them, but ultimately find a deep tender affection. Numerous songs about Berlin also address the unsightly and repulsive aspects of the city, express criticism of living conditions and local politics and tell of unhappiness, loneliness and neuroses. Ambivalent feelings are often expressed through a speaker who describes himself as torn. One of the best-known songs on this subject is probably “Schwarz zu blau”. The song describes the journey of a lyrical self through the city of Berlin. Exhausted after a party in the club, the speaker makes his way home and encounters shady characters in multi-cultural Kreuzberg („Kotti“, Kotbusser Tor, „Bagdads Backwaren“ am Schlesischern Tor, „Dönerläden“) by night. The musical design is striking: electronic beats give the song a driving and danceable rhythm, the background music was recorded by the Babelsberg Film Orchestra and then put together from the individual samples in the studio. The use of strings creates a diffuse and suspenseful atmosphere; the chorus also features brass chords that are reminiscent of film music and contribute to a certain menace.
The song begins with a swelling violin tremolo and dogs barking; the beat and Peter Fox's voice start at the same time. Verse and refrain alternate, with the verses describing the speaker’s sensory perceptions and the refrain reflecting on observations and addressing the city as a familiar counterpart with “Du” (“Guten Morgen, Berlin”). It is striking that the second refrain is followed by a C section, which is similar to the refrain in terms of melody and harmony, but varies lyrically. It represents the lyrical self's personal summary: Although it has mixed feelings about its living environment, it knows that it vitally needs the city. The song ends with the echo of the last words and fading string sounds, creating a link to the beginning of the song.
Berlin, as represented in the song, is a Moloch, characterized by neglect, garbage and dirt, as well as the difficult life situations of its inhabitants. At he beginning of the song, the speaker describes the impressions on his way home after a night of partying in the first verse. The protagonist comes out of the club („Komm aus’m Club“) after a satisfying night of partying: „… war schön gewesen“. The incorrect past perfect tense “war ... gewesen” (the correct tense here would be simple past or present perfect) is typical of the Berlin (and Cologne) dialect. After a night of drinking he stinks of booze (“Stinke nach Suff”), he feels broken („kaputt“) and at the same time satisfied with this life: „… ist’n schönes Leben“). He has to step over “Schnapsleichen” (liquor corpses), which decompose („verwesen“). This hyperbole already describes the ugly impression of the big city at the beginning of the song. This is followed by further hyperboles and metaphors, such as: “... seh die Ratten sich satt fressen“ (I see the rats stuffing themselves), “Stapf' durch die Kotze am Kotti” (Wade through the vomit of the Kotti – The Kotbusser Tor, "Kotti“, is a place in Berlin known for drug selling). The poverty and drug junkies of the big city are not left unmentioned either: “Junks sind benebelt“ (junkies are befuddled), „Gepiercte Mädels die wollen, dass ich Straßenfeger lese“ (Pierced girls who want me to read „Straßenfeger“ - poverty is expressed here indirectly through the word “Straßenfeger” , literally road sweeper, street cleaner, as this is a magazine that is usually sold by homeless people in underground and suburban trains.) Sweep cleaners are urgently needed here: „Atzen rotzen in die Gegend, benehmen sich daneben.“ (homies sniff back their snot in the hood, ain't doin' no good): The dysphemism „Atze“ is a slang word for friend, colleague or similar. It also has negative connotations, as an „Atze“ is often dismissed as a prole. „Sich danebenbenehmen“ is to behave badly. The nocturnal staff is complemented by scene snobs on a desperate search for the scene („Szene-Schnösel auf verzweifelter Suche nach der Szene“). A „Schnösel“ (in the 19th century probably formed into the word family „Schnodder, schnäuzen“ in the sense of “snotty nose”) is the colloquial term for a (young) arrogant, self-absorbed person. This type of person is described as conceited and vain, yet over-saturated and indifferent. There is a conceptual relationship to the snob, who emphasizes his status and luxury consumption more than the „Schnösel", as well as to the fashionista or dandy, who focuses on lifestyle and fashion.
The second verse is a continuation of the first verse. Here, the time is mentioned for the first time: “Halb sechs“, half past five. While the protagonist is passing other outsiders of society, the protagonist's eyes burn („brennen“), which is a metonymy for tiredness. He comes across a guy who is sleeping among dead pigeons (cf. v. 2). This metaphor is intended to further visualize the poverty or homelessness of the city. In the following, an argument („es gibt Stress“) between “Tarek” and “Sam” is described. The protagonist's attention is drawn to the argument by their hysterical girlfriends („hysterische Bräute“, „Braut“ is a girlfriend in the youth language of the time) who are nagging („keifen“). The songwriter uses the stylistic device of pleonasm to dramatize the situation. In addition, a direct quote is included: „Halt's Maul oder ich werd' dir ins Gesicht schlagen!" (Shut up or I'll punch you in the face) to strengthen the authenticity. Two further metaphors, “Sam hat die Hosen voll“ (Sam's got his pants full) and “Die rote Suppe tropft auf den Asphalt“ (The red soup is dripping on the asphalt) are intended to further describe the situation figuratively. Although the protagonist feels sick, he is not impressed by this event (“Ich mach die Jacke zu, denn es ist kalt (I'll close my jacket, because it's cold), as this is another natural everyday scene in the city of Berlin.
The depiction of Berlin is clearly oriented towards the urban topos in hip-hop, which thematizes difficult social conditions and has established the “big city fighter” as a central figure who reacts to the adversities of everyday city life. However, the speaker in “Schwarz zu Blau” presents himself as not belonging to a particular group; he keeps his distance from both the “Szene-Schnösel” and the “street gangs”. His affiliation to the city is fed by the detailed descriptions and precise knowledge of the place, Berlin-Kreuzberg.
It is striking that the stanzas exhibit a number of peculiarities, especially on a phonetic level. In both the first and second stanza, four verses rhyme with only one exception (two rhyming couplets in the second stanza). For the most part, these pecularities are extended rhymes and assonances that extend over three to five syllables (e.g. “Augen brenn'” - “Tauben pennt”, “eigentlich schweben”- „Reines dagegen“, ”parkenden Benz“ - Straßengangs”). In addition, there are numerous internal rhymes and assonances (e.g. “Klub” - “Suff” - “kaputt”, “Hund“ - „Mund” - „ungesund“), alliterations (e.g. “tote Tauben”) and other phonetic equivalence structure with onomapoetic character (e.g. „Atzen rotzen“).
Due to the phonetic overdetermination of the text, the semantic content recedes into the background, while Baigorry's fluent speech is emphasized. The description of the “ugly” Berlin is aestheticized by the linguistic design. In the refrain the city is represented as “schön schrecklich”, as the speaker formulates it in an antithetic oxymoron. The horrible aspects seem to dominate (“ugly”, ‘dirty’, “gray”) and consume the protagonist, so that he decides to go home and sleep it off, but while he is going home, dawn breaks, which is described in the refrain with the metaphor “schwarz zu blau”, and which is thematized once again in the C section: At the sight of the sunrise („Doch die Sonne geht grade auf“) at half past five in the morning, the lyrical ego comes to the decisive realization: “Und ich weiß, ob ich will oder nicht / Dass ich dich zum Atmen brauch“ (And I know, whether I want to or not / That I need you to breathe”) - Berlin is both Moloch and elixir of life.
The third verse is about tired people („Müde Gestalten“) who want to go to work („Frühschicht“, early shift) and are waiting for the bus, but it doesn't come, which is why frustration arises („Frust kommt auf“). Here, too, the text has a remarkable structure of phonetic equivalences typical of hip-hop texts: „Müde Gestalten – Falten – Gesicht – Neonlicht - Frühschicht – für sich – Frust kommt auf – Bus kommt nicht“. The metaphor of the deep wrinkles on people’s faces describes their tiredness. It is also typical of Berlin, but also of other big cities, that people hardly speak a word in the morning („Die Frühschicht schweigt“) and everyone keeps to themselves („… jeder bleibt für sich“). The protagonist again describes the ugliness of the city: „Überall liegt Scheiße, man muss eigentlich schweben“ (Everywhere there’s shit, you actually have to float”). With this metaphorical hyperbole the protagonist addresses the problem of dog excrement in the big city: „Jeder hat’n Hund, aber keinen zum Reden“. The contrast emphasizes the loneliness of the city dweller, who compensates for this with his pet. The last two lines allude to the unclean air. The stench caused by the impurities leads to the protagonist having to breathe constantly through his mouth („ständig durch den Mund“), feeling unhealthy and longing for something to cleanse him („Ich fühl' mich ungesund, brauch' was Reines dagegen“). Pollution from exhaust fumes, industry and waste (human and animal, such as the dog excrement mentioned here) is a problem especially in large cities (e.g. Berlin), as these are conurbations, and where there are many people, there is also a lot of pollution.The reference to the Berlin air is a bitter commentary on the unofficial anthem of the city of Berlin, the march “Das macht (or ist) die Berliner Luft” from 1904 by Paul Lincke, which makes it a synonym for a free attitude to life in Berlin and a role model for non-Berliners.

The second part of the third stanza stands out from the other stanzas. For the first time, perhaps triggered by the allusion to the „Berliner Luft“, not the ugliness but also the beautiful sides of the city are described. Anaphora is used in the first two verses: “Ich hab 'nen dicken Kopf“ (a thick head, headache after drinking too much alcohol)”, as well as “Ich hab dringlichen Bock auf ...”. „Bock auf etwas haben“ is colloquial for „Lust auf etwas haben“ (be in the mood for, fancy s.th.) „Null Bock“ is a slang expression for the British „Couldn’t be buggered“, a whole generation in Germany (the young people of the 1980s) was called „die Null-Bock Generation“ , The stylistic device of alliteration is also used here: “[...] Bock auf Bagdads Backwaren“ and “...pumpen aus 'nem parkenden Benz”. The protagonist talks about a bakery store where it is warm and he can dream. (Cf. v. 3). „Bagdad Backwaren“ actually exists. It is located in the heart of Kreuzberg, at the „Schlesische Tor“. He also raves about a sweet bakery sales clerk called Fatima. An attempt is made to create a harmonious atmosphere and to make the big, wide, anonymous city of Berlin seem small, a city in which people know each other despite the millions of people in their neighborhoods. The protagonist observes how the street gangs” call it a day („Feierabend“) and even a hooligan blubbers („flennt“) in the arms of a woman. In the end, he comes to the conclusion that Berlin is not as tough („hart“) as you think. This direct appeal is addressed to the listener. („du“ and not „man“).
After the repetition of the refrain, a final verse follows, which takes up the greeting to Berlin from the refrain (“Guten Morgen Berlin”). In the following five lines, the ugliness of the city is emphasized once again and the desolate state of the protagonist is highlighted. Hyperbole is used to emphasize his tiredness: “Ich bin kaputt“ (broken). The air pollution (“dust”) and his tiredness cause him to rub his eyes in order to see clearly. . The deviation from the normal sentence position (the local adverbial comes before the accusative object) emphasizes the dust, and the iambic rhythm that this creates makes the internal rhyme “meinen” - “ deinen” clearer. What he sees is the ugliness of Berlin, condensed into an elliptical sentence: “Dein Panorama versaut” (mucked up). Beauty is not even recognizable from a distance: „Siehst nicht mal schön von weitem aus“ (you don't even look beautiful from afar). The adversative conjunction “doch” then leads to the final conclusion, which is metaphorically illustrated by the sunrise „… geht die Sonne gerade auf“): Berlin, like Grönemeyer's Bochum, is not a beauty, but the city is the protagonist's habitat, without which he cannot exist, nolens volens („ob ich will oder nicht“): „… ich weiß …., dass ich dich zum Atmen brauch.“ (I know that I need you to breathe).

[Chrisinom]

Gisbert zu Knyphausen: Seltsames Licht

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Gisbert-zu-knyphause ... cht-lyrics
Gisbert zu Knyphausen - What a name! The artist is not a contemporary of Middle High German bards such as Walther von der Vogelweide or Heinrich von Morungen, and the name is not a pseudonym either. It is even longer than that. Gisbert Wilhelm Enno Freiherr zu Innhausen und Knyphausen grew up as the scion of an old noble family in the Rheingau region. His full name only appears in his passport. His parents did not make him and his four brothers feel their nobility very much, but the children were nevertheless confronted with their family history. The boys had small tasks to do at their parents' winery, but they have fond memories of them: “Packing the latest wine catalog, sticking addresses on envelopes, labeling bottles, helping with the grape harvest during the fall break, or mowing the lawn with the nice tractor.” He was introduced to music by his mother, who had all her children learn instruments. Gisbert was the only one who turned it into a career, but only after a teacher advised him against theater and suggested he do something with his “beautiful voice” instead. At first, he still couldn't imagine just making music. So he began studying musicology. Then he switched to music therapy. There he could combine two things he enjoyed—music and “being a helpful part of society.” Finally, he decided to devote himself entirely to being a musician. Knyphausen moved to Hamburg, started a band, wrote songs, and came to terms with the fact that he had a right to exist as a musician without another job. You can hear him and his band at the annual festival at the family's winery, which is now run by his eldest brother. The completely beer-free music festival is organized by the whole family.
He is not a great vocalist; his performance too often verges on spoken word. And yet he knows how to touch listeners in a strangely peculiar way with his mostly melancholic miniatures. The singer-songwriter is a master of the acoustic guitar, but above all he is a poet and wordsmith, without ever falling prey to pretension. Melancholy, then, but also an urgency that can suddenly and repeatedly seize the bard with the tousled hair and eight-day beard. For a long time, sensitivity was hard to find in German rock songs. In the first five decades of pop music in Germany, there was only one truly sensitive German rock singer: Rio Reiser. When, somewhat unexpectedly, German pop musicians began singing almost exclusively in German at the beginning of the new millennium, that changed. Since then, far too many German singers have sung mainly about what was going on inside them. Too many, because not all of them manage to do so without being kitschy and touching. This definitely does not apply to Gisbert Wilhelm Enno Freiherr zu Innhausen und Knyphausen, who has become the epitome of a (very good) sensitive singer since his first album, “Gisbert zu Knyphausen,” was released in 2008. After the rock single “Sommertag” was featured in an Andreas Dresen feature film, his audience grew steadily.
“Seltsames Licht” (Strange Light) is one of his most impressive and intimate songs. It appeared on his second solo album, “Hurra! Hurra! So nicht” (Hurray! Hurray! Not Like That), three years after his debut. It is a touching ballad about childhood impressions, the slogans young people spout, and the death of a loved one. The folk ballad, which lasts almost six minutes, sticks in your mind from the very first time you hear it. But the lyrics can leave you with a lump in your throat when Knyphausen performs them on stage at his annual “Heimspiel” (home game) festival at his parents' winery in Eltville/Rheingau. At the beginning of the fourth verse, it says: „Zwei Wochen später auf dem Hof / Dein lebloser Körper“ (Two weeks later in the courtyard / Your lifeless body.) When he gets to “Hof,” he pauses briefly, looks at the winery building and the area where the audience is standing. And immediately it is clear where the song's plot takes place.
The song begins with a twenty-second guitar arpeggio on an acoustic guitar in a sombre mood, followed by very subtle drums and bass. Knyphausen sings in his typical style: serious, clear, leaving plenty of room for the emotional words to unfold. He links concrete experiences with allegorical descriptions that demand interpretation. The song consists of four verses describing impressions and experiences, and a chorus after the second and fourth verses that opens up a metaphysical-spiritual dimension.
We know from his own statements that it is a song about grief and his own life. The lyrical narrator and the composer are therefore likely to be largely identical. The first person mentioned in the first verse apart from the lyrical narrator is “she”: „Sie und ich“ Knyphausen revealed to music journalist Maik Brüggemeyer that the song is about his mother. This is how the pieces of the puzzle come together: she, the courtyard („auf dem Hof“), the lifeless body („dein lebloser Körper“). Knyphausen writes about saying goodbye to his mother at his parents' winery in the Rheingau. He sees himself with her in a strange light („Ein seltsames Licht“). Something lies between him and his mother. It seems to be childhood memories, the messages that minors write on the streets, indelibly („Wir meißelten unsere Namen in den Asphalt“ – meißeln is „to chisel“), the desire to mark his own place in the world, to stay („wir hielten uns auf ...“), but not to stop („… aber wir hielten nicht an“). He introduces the lines as a recurring but modified motif: „Wir schrieben: / Wir, wir waren hier / Genau wie ihr“ (We wrote: We were here, just like you.)
The second verse begins with the beautiful antithetic parallelism of having had a butt full of happiness („den Arsch voller Glück“) as a child, but a “mouth full of complaint („das Maul voller Beschwerden“ – „Maul“ is normally used in reference to animals, but it can also be used pejoratively to refer to the mouth, as in “Halt's Maul” ,shut up). A typical childhood memory: life was rich, but you didn't have the big picture yet and therefore complained a lot. The following lines are puzzling: “Auserkoren, um gebückt zu gehen“ (chosen to walk bent over). For an artist who comes from an old noble family and who rehearsed with his first band in a spacious garage, this sounds at least unexpected. The stooped gait is probably to be understood metaphorically as the opposite of the upright gait, which is associated with backbone and proving who one is. “Auserkoren” belongs to an elevated language level and is usually associated with positive connotations. The following line, „Ich halte mich fest an allem, was nicht weh tut“ (I hold on tight to everything that doesn't hurt”), is a description of coping with grief. But apparently it takes even more dignity to face death appropriately: „Doch ein kleines bisschen mehr Würde wär nicht schlecht“. With the words “Ich, ich war hier genau wie ihr“ (I was here, just like you) he builds a bridge from the moment of grief to childhood memories in the same place, repeating the motif of the first verse in a slightly modified form. With the repeated “Ich“, the protagonist seems to pull himself up from its stooped posture.
“Das Bett am Fenster“ (The bed by the window) in the third stanza (I'll come back to the chorus later) creates an image of the specific place of death and the last memory of the mother. Once again, an antithesis hints at emotional turmoil: the wide-open window allows those present to breathe („Wir schnappten nach Luft“, we gasped for air) , but also dispels the silence: „… um die Stile zu vertreiben“. The lyrical narrator looks questioningly, but is only laughed at by the mother: „Und du lachtest mich nur aus“. These lines convey a sense of the older woman's superiority. However, this is contradicted by the fact that she says a prayer: „Doch deine Lippen formten leise dein Gebet“. Perhaps the superiority in the face of death is only feigned. What distinguishes the quality of the text, apart from this unsentimental description of the farewell, is the motif at the end of the verses, which is varied again and again. This time it is attributed to the dying woman: “Du sagtest: / Ich, ich bleibe hier / So wie ihr .“ The repetition of “I” in his self-assertion casts an ironic shadow on his attempt to stand tall.
In the fourth verse, death has come despite all the hope and prayers. After saying goodbye to the living, six boys in dark suits say goodbye to the dead body in a room full of flowers and violence („In einem Zimmer voller Blumen und Gewalt“). The contrast between flowers and violence underscores how difficult it is for the protagonist to cope with the loss of his mother. The dirges („Klagelieder“) they sing or listen to silently („lautlos“) in the night pick up on the theme of the end of the verses again: “Sie sangen: / Bitte, bitte bleib hier / So wie wir“ (They sang: Please, please stay here, just like uy).
The chorus offers an interpretation of the event. A chapter has come to an end. A loved one who was always there is now gone: „Und so wie es war, soll es nie wieder sein / So wie es ist, darf es nicht bleiben.“ (But things will never be the same again. Things will not stay the way they are.) The past is gone, irrevocably. The present is unbearable, the future („Wie es dann wird“) uncertain. Now it is a matter of finding one's own attitude toward this death. Only the hunchbacked winter („der bucklige Winter“) can decide how things will be. The “hunchbacked winter” seems to be a creative metaphor of Knyphausen's, for which there is probably no model in literature. The adjective “bucklig” (hunchbacked) echoes the stooped posture described in the second stanza. Winter as a symbol is often associated with endings and death due to its harsh, cold reality and the stillness of nature. However, it also promises renewal and new beginnings, reflecting the cycle of life and regeneration that follows a period of rest and recuperation. At the end of the song, even in this moment of grief, a glimmer of hope remains. Is it rooted in Christianity? That remains unclear: “„Aber wir sehen uns wieder ganz bestimmt. Irgendwann.“ (But we will definitely see each other again. Someday.)
Melancholy and the motif of winter play an important role in the singer's album from 2021, “Lass irre Hunde heulen” (Let Mad Dogs Howl). For this album, Knyphausen immersed himself in Franz Schubert's 200-year-old art songs and rearranged his song cycle ‘Winterreise’ (Winter Journey). Here is the first song on the album, “Gute Nacht” (Good Night):

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/gute-nac ... ght.html-2

[Chrisinom]

Nena: 99 Luftballons

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/99-Luftb ... llons.html
At some point, it had to appear here: the most internationally successful German pop song. At the end of March 1983, the song reached number one in West Germany and went on to enjoy international success. It topped the charts in Japan, Mexico, Canada, and Australia, and reached number two in the US. In February 1984, the English-language version reached number one in the UK charts and remained there for three weeks. The story of how the song conquered the charts in the US is interesting: When Christiane Felscherinow was in Los Angeles to promote the film „Christiane F. – Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo“, she and Nina Hagen were guests on the radio show of the well-known disc jockey Rodney Bingenheimer. When listeners asked about Felscherinow's taste in music, she chose the song „99 Luftballons“, which was on a cassette (How many people today are familiar with the concept of a music cassette?) she had brought with her from Germany. Bingenheimer was so taken with the song that he played it again a few days later. Other radio stations and MTV also played the song. The German-language version of the song reached number 2 on the Billboard charts and number 1 on the Cashbox charts, and was certified gold on March 26, 1984, for selling 500,000 copies. The English version, which was actually produced for the American market, remained unpopular there.
Nena is both a German music group of the Neue Deutsche Welle (New German Wave) that existed from 1982 to 1987, and their singer and frontwoman Gabriele Susanne Kerner, with the stage name Nena, who continues her musical career to this day. When the song was released in 1983, following Nena's first hit “Nur geträumt” (1982), the Cold War was in its final phase. Following NATO's double-track decision („Nato-Doppelbeschluss“), the deployment of medium-range nuclear missiles began in Germany in 1983. People resisted this threat and organized themselves into the peace movement, staging large demonstrations against the planned armament. “The 99 Luftballons” simply fit the times. On the one hand, the song addressed the theme of peace – but without actually formulating a protest or calling for political resistance. On the other hand, the Neue Deutsche Welle (New German Wave) was at its peak, even conquering the ZDF charts," says Prof. Michael Fischer, director of the Center for Popular Culture and Music at the University of Freiburg.
The idea for the lyrics came to the band's guitarist Carlo Karges in 1982 at a Rolling Stones concert in West Berlin, when Mick Jagger released balloons at the end of the show that were carried by the wind toward the Wall. “Carlo asked himself what could happen if someone misunderstood this powerful image,” recalls Nena. He wrote the lyrics that same night and showed them to Nena the next day in the rehearsal room. “As soon as I read the first lines, I got chills down my spine and wanted to sing it right away. From then on, there was no stopping it,” says the singer. At the time, the record company thought the song had “no chorus” and was “not commercial enough.” In addition to the simple song structure (five verses of ten lines each), the long instrumental section at the beginning of the song was also criticized as unsuitable for radio play.
The first verse, which functions as a sort of intro, invites the listener in a seemingly naive way to listen to the song: „Hast du etwas Zeit für mich / Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich“. The first line contains an inversion that, without punctuation, which is often missing in song lyrics, can be interpreted grammatically in two ways. It can either be a question or a conditional clause without conjunction: „Wenn du etwas Zeit für mich hast“. This is the same as in English conditional clauses, where this structure is only used with „should“, „were“ and „had“: „Should you have some time for me ...“. The following line is about the consequence of the listener having time. For the meaning of the lyrics, it makes no difference how you understand the sentence structure. The first verse seems to paint an idyllic picture: 99 balloons rise up and are on their way to the horizon („auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont“). Balloons embody freedom and lightness. As they rise into the sky, they seem weightless and symbolize the possibility of freeing oneself from worries and restrictions. Releasing balloons can be an expression of hope and optimism that things will change for the better. The second part of the verse begins again with an inversion, with the final line disrupting the apparent idyll: The song is about that something comes from something („ dass sowas von sowas kommt“). “Sowas” (until 2010 only “so was”) is a colloquial abbreviation of “so etwas” and is often used to express surprise (Na sowas!"), indignation, disapproval („Sowas macht man doch nicht!“) or contempt. It can also simply mean “so etwas”, like here. What this something is remains unclear for now.
The second verse picks up on the motif of balloons floating toward the horizon in the first two lines. For learners of German, it is useful to know how to form numbers between twenty-one and ninety-nine. Unlike other European languages, in German the single-digit number (here „neun“) comes first, followed by „und“ and finally the two-digit number („neunzig“). In numbers with “eins,” the „s“ at the end is omitted: „einundzwanzig“. The whole number is written as one word: “neunundneunzig.” The 99 balloons, as becomes clear in the third line, are the accusative object of the entire sentence: The balloons were thought to be UFOs from outer space. The phrasal verb "jemanden / etwas halten für" means that you think someone / something is …, followed by an adjektive or a noun: „Ich halte dich für intelligent / für einen ehrlichen Menschen“.
In verses 2 to 4, the initially peaceful situation escalates absurdly to the point of apocalypse. A general, perhaps inspired by an absurd science fiction film, sends out a squadron of planes („eine Fliegerstaffel“) to investigate whether an attack from space by UFOs is really taking place: “Alarm zu geben, wenn's so wär“ (Raise the alarm if it's true) – a momentous mistake, as only balloons can be seen on the horizon. 99 jet planes, manned by would-be heroes (“Jeder war ein großer Krieger“, everyone was a great warrior”) who want to emulate their idol from the television series “Star Trek” (“...hielten sich für Captain Kirk“, thought they were Captain Kirk”), put on a spectacular fireworks display („ein großes Feuerwerk“) in the skies. The neighboring countries do not understand what is happening („Die Nachbarn haben nichts gerafft“) and feel threatened („...und fühlten sich gleich angemacht“). Wrongly so: there are only 99 harmless balloons.
The language used in these verses is colloquial, as used by young people of that age. “Raffen” actually means to grab something greedily, usually with a pejorative undertone. Colloquially, it means to understand (verstehen), grasp (begreifen, kapieren) something. Other words used in this context are „schnallen“ and „checken“. „Anmachen“ has several meanings, which vary depending on the context. It mainly means “to switch on” (e.g. lights, radio) or “to light” (e.g. a fire). Colloquially, it can also mean to approach someone, often with sexual interest, or, as in this case, to harass someone. Other colloquialisms in this song are „grad“ instead of „gerade“ (first verse), 'ne (eine) and war'n (waren) (second verse). “Mann” (also “Manno,” “Mannomann”) can also be an expression of surprise or annoyance, as here in verse four).
After the jet pilots, it is the turn of the ministers of war in the final stage of escalation (verse four). What this means is metaphorically suggested by “Streichholz und Benzinkanister“ (match and petrol can). The motive of these clever people („schlaue Leute“) as they see themselves, is purely material, as another metaphor makes clear: they smell fat prey („rochen fette Beute“) hoping for a big profit and/or a lucrative opportunity. For them, war means power: „(Sie) riefen "Krieg!" und wollten Macht“. The last three lines summarize how the the situation has escalated: 99 balloons (“sowas“) have triggered a world war („sowas“).
The fifth verse is slower in tempo, like the intro to the first verse, and forms the outro of the song.It describes the situation on Earth after 99 years of war. There is nothing left: no ministers of war, no jet planes, and of course no victors. In this present, the narrator makes his rounds („Heute zieh' ich meine Runden“) and sees a world in ruins („Seh' die Welt in Trümmern liegen“). The two final lines appear as a bitter commentary on what has happened: „Hab' 'n (Again colloquial language for Ich habe einen) Luftballon gefunden / Denk' an dich und lass' ihn fliegen.“ ( Found a balloon, think of you and let it fly). The release of the balloon symbolizes the futile desire for peace and the commemoration of innocence lost. However, Lena has not been happy with this final verse for a long time. She used to stumble over the line “Seh' die Welt in Trümmern liegen“ (See the world lying in ruins”) time and time again. "It only took two little words. Since then, I've been singing: ‘Seh' die Welt noch nicht in Trümmern liegen.’ It's in our hands. I believe in us humans and trust that we all know deep in our hearts: We belong together."

[Chrisinom]

Die Ärzte: Westerland – Urlaub am Strand
Germany, August 13, 2025: The thermometer is approaching 40 degrees Celsius. The only thing that can help now is „Die Ärzte“, or go on vacation, which is more or less the same thing: Farin Urlaub (Fahr' in Urlaub) is the pseudonym of one of the two founders of Germany's favorite punk band, and one of their favorite themes: summer, beach, sunshine. What began in 1984 with “Sommer Palmen Sonnenschein” and continued in 1988 with “Westerland” now culminates in two songs on their album from the Corona year 2020 with the beautifully ambiguous German-English title ‘Hell’: “Das letzte Lied des Sommers” and “Ich am Strand.”

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/westerla ... rland.html
“Westerland” is the fifth track on the 1988 album „Das ist nicht die ganze Wahrheit …” and was released in advance as the second single from the album. At the time, unlike some of the band's songs that were criticized as offensive, „Westerland“ was often played on the radio and became one of the band's most famous songs. In the demos recorded before the actual production of the album, the island of Helgoland was still the subject of the lyrics. The reason for the change is generally assumed to be, on the one hand, a farewell concert to Westerland on the island of Sylt before the planned breakup of the band and, on the other hand, the more appropriate theme for punk rock. In fact, on July 9, 1988, the band played in Westerland at the Neues Kurhaus in front of about 1,500 fans, some of whom were dressed in punk clothing and hairstyles, which was a “culture shock” for the locals.
Sylt is synonymous with expensive real estate, expensive champagne, and wealthy German celebrities. Jürgen Klopp, Dieter Bohlen, and Günther Jauch are fans of Sylt and have or had houses there. If you want to immerse yourself in this world without going there, watch the 1972 documentary “Die Schönen und die Reichen” (The Rich and the Beautiful) on YouTube. In it, writer Walter Jens says that people who don't have money are kept away “by the gentlest force: the force of prices.” On the other hand, the island of Sylt is a true jewel of the North Sea. With its long sandy beaches, dune landscapes, picturesque villages, and the rugged beauty of nature, Sylt attracts countless visitors year after year.
This song begins quite innocently. The protagonist is sitting by Lake Wannsee, a popular Berlin excursion destination. „See“ has two meanings in German. „Der See“ is a lake, „die See“ is the sea. He is lying on his towel and listening to the waves, but he cannot find peace because he is thinking about his great love and wondering when he will see her again. The pre-chorus seems to emphasize that it is about love for a woman: "Diese eine Liebe wird nie zuende geh'n! / Wann werd ich sie wiedersehen?" (This one love will never end! / When will I see her again?) Only in the second verse does it become clear that his love is not a person but an island („diese Insel“) he thinks of when he closes his eyes and imagines sitting by the sea: „Manchmal schließe ich die Augen, / stell' mir vor ich sitz am Meer“. This idea makes him sad: „... mein Herz, das wird so schwer“. The chorus emphasizes his nostalgic mood. All lines begin with the personal pronoun „ich“. He is filled with a longing („Sehnsucht“) that makes him incapable of thinking rationally: „Ich verliere den Verstand“. The repeated “Ich will” in lines three and four, which refers to returning to the place of longing („wieder“, „zurück“) underscores the nostalgic longing of the city dweller for the island of his dreams.
The alliterative rhetorical questions in verse three („Wie oft ...“) lead to the turning point of the song by exposing the suicidal thoughts of the man robbed of his dream island as pure rhetoric: countless times, he suggests, he has thrown himself into the waters of the Spree, which flows through Berlin, and had to be rescued from drowning. The bridge before the final chorus brings to light the dark side of the dream island. Sylt is expensive (“etwas teuer” is a clear understatement), exclusive (“... dafür ist man unter sich”), half of the vacationers are stupid („blöde“), although the protagonist self-deprecatingly includes himself among them. An incident last year underscores the accuracy of the Ärzte assessment: In a bar on Sylt, young people celebrating sang racist slogans. In a video recording lasting only a few seconds, young men and women shout “Ausländer raus” and “Deutschland den Deutschen” to the tune of Gigi D'Agostino's party hit “L'amour Toujours.” One man appears to be mimicking a Hitler moustache with his fingers on his upper lip. Numerous party guests seem to be largely unfazed by the events.
Now back to the year 1984:

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Die-arzte-sommer-pal ... ein-lyrics
At first glance, the text, which begins with the refrain, seems rather unambitious and trivial: "Sommer, Palmen, Sonnenschein / Was kann schöner sein? / Mit dir allein / Kann es noch schöner sein …" (“Summer, palm trees, sunshine - What could be better? With you alone it could be even better...”) It is a humorous and slightly ironic portrayal of the summer feeling: vacation, freedom, the desire to escape everyday life. „Die Ärzte“ wouldn't be „Die Ärzte“ if they didn't combine this idyllic holiday setting with elements of irony. This is ensured above all by the walkman in the two verses, which the holidaymaker takes with him to the beach and which runs like a thread through the text. In verse 1, it prevents him from going into the water, with the humorous rhyme underlining the irony: "Nur ins Wasser geh' ich nicht / Denn mein Walkman ist nicht wasserdicht" (I'm not going into the water / Because my Walkman isn't waterproof).
In the second verse, it becomes clear that there are no songs on the Walkman, only the voice of his partner: „Ich hab' beim Tanzen meinen Walkman auf … / Denn da ist deine Stimme drauf“ (I have my walkman on while dancing because your voice is on it). He always thinks of her, when drinking milkshakes, in the disco at night, in the heat of the day by the mirror-smooth sea (“Die Sonne brennt heiß, das Meer ist spiegelglatt“) as well as on warm nights. Only the Walkman is acting up: „In meinem Walkman ist Bandsalat“ (My Walkman has a tape jam), and then the batteries are also dead. The inevitable consequence: returning home.
Like the chorus, the pre-chorus is also extremely simple, with language and rhymes that seem childlike: „Und trotzdem fehlst du mir / Warum bist du nicht hier? / Warum bist du zu Haus? Du weißt, manchmal muss ich einfach raus“ (And yet I miss you / Why aren't you here? / Why are you at home? /You know, sometimes I just need to get out.“
„Das letzte Lied des Sommers“ from 2020 was described by some critics as “Westerland 2” because of its sound:

Lyrics: https://genius.com/Die-arzte-das-letzte ... ers-lyrics
Although it takes us back from the North Sea to the palm-lined beach, this song also focuses on the contrast with everyday life at home in Berlin. Sun versus gray sky (in a nice metaphor: so grau, als wär er tapeziert“, grey as if wallpapapered) , sand versus streets, sea versus rush hour traffic („Berufsverkehr“, „Feierabendstau“), sea air versus diesel fumes and tar, heat versus cold (“The thermometer drops”), palm trees on the beach versus evening traffic jams („... die Straßen sind total blockiert“), lying in a hammock („Hängematte“) and standing in traffic jams are contrasted dichotomously. Returning from a beach vacation, the protagonist feels like he is “im falschen Film“ (in the wrong movie). His diagnosis for this condition: “Kognitive Dissonanz” (cognitive dissonance), a term that stylistically does not fit into the rest of the linguistic context. Summer at the beach remains a dream, an image of walking barefoot on the sand, a song that sticks in your head. His nostalgia makes him declare that one day he will turn his back on everyday life and return to the beach: „Eines Morgens wachst du auf, und ich werde nicht mehr da sein“ (One morning you'll wake up and I'll be gone). He'll be waiting for his partner at the beach.
Of course, die Ärzte can't resist a few puns in this song either. In addition to the stylistic escapade with cognitive dissonance, there is also the comical rhyme “Berufsverkehr” – “Hubschrauber” (The stress in “Hubschrauber” is on the first syllable; with the wrong stress, the aircraft sounds like a strange species of bear.) As a substitute for the sea, the protagonist wishes for “mindestens ein Eis zum sofortigen Verzehr“ (at least an ice cream to eat right away.) „Zum sofortigen Verzehr“: That sounds more like a label on certain packaged, perishable foods—another stylistic dissonance. The climax of the linguistic prank comes at the end with the rhyme „... ich will wieder ans Meer / Oder wenigstens Verkehr.“ Verkehr has basically two meanings: Traffic and communication, intercourse – including sexual intercourse.
The second song about the sea on “Hell” differs from the previous ones in terms of lyrics and the lack of the typical Ärzte surf sound. It is more sophisticated in terms of lyrics—certainly one of their best lyrics—and more serious in terms of subject matter.

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/ich-am-s ... beach.html
The dark twin of the previous song on the Ärzte album „Hell“ tells the story of an entire, albeit short, life in snapshots like those from a photo album. This photographically captured life story in distichs begins with the birth and first two years of the protagonist's life: „Ich, neugeboren – gar nicht süß, aber Mama ist anscheinend zufrieden / ich mit zwei, was guck ich fies – meine Eltern sind schon geschieden“ (I, newborn—not cute at all, but Mom seems happy / me at two, why do I look so mean—my parents are already divorced.).
The second couplet covers the following two years of the child's life, during which, following the early divorce of his parents („schon geschieden“), another unspoken misfortune befalls him: he eats what he thinks is his birthday cake with a smile („lachend, weil ich's einfach nicht kapier'“) because he does not understand that it is the day of his mother's funeral. This is suggested by the child's lack of understanding and reinforced by the fact that the mother is replaced by the grandfather („Opa“) in the following couplet. The mother isn't mentioned anymore.The child's life story begins anything but harmoniously, but the band repeatedly ward off sentimentality or even suspicion of kitsch with quick-witted, slightly humorous lines.
The text continues through the classic genres of family album photography with grandpa's dog, first vacation by the sea, first day of school, and, as a coming-of-age novel in fast forward, practically forms the narrative antithesis to the “Great American Novel.” Zack, zack, zack: Between the flash-lit, initially static scenes, jumps are inserted that leave what happens in between to the listener's imagination, which often has a thoroughly comical effect. What Grandfather's dog did while playing with the narrator is implied by the consequences: „Ich, mit dem Ohr wieder angenäht“ (Me with my ear sewn back on). Another accident involves sports: “„Ich zu Besuch im Boxverein / ich mit gebrochenem Nasenbein.“ (I visit the boxing club / I break my nose.) Added to this is the drama of puberty: „... ich, von Pickeln übersät – auf dem Weg zu meinem ersten Date“ (Me, covered in pimples – on my way to my first date), ending in a first heartbreak: „Ich mit Nina, Hose beult / ich ohne Nina, schwer verheult“ (Me with Nina, bulging pants / me without Nina, crying my eyes out.).
This is followed by wild student years with “smoking weed, totally cool” and political activism against right-wing extremists (“Ich auf Demos - Nazis raus!”), once again with painful consequences: “... ich wieder mal im Krankenhaus“ (Me in the hospital again.) Listeners like to identify with scenes like these, which they recognize from their own lives. The narrator's self-image at the beach runs through the song like a refrain, serving as a continuous, structuring element. From “„mein allererster Urlaub: ich am Strand“ (my very first vacation: me at the beach), the paradise of a childhood spent with the rest of the family, but experienced as secure, to the first taste of freedom as a young man after the hardships of school: „Ich mit Abi (Abitur) in der Hand, ich mit meinem Rucksack / ich am Strand“ (Me with my high school diploma in hand, me with my backpack / me on the beach).
The real turning point in his life comes in the next distich, underlined by an internal rhyme and a dash („Freude groß - arbeitslos“). Ten semesters of business studies (BWL = Betriebswirtschaftslehre), successfully completed, end in unemployment. Five years of his life are packed into two lines of verse, as breathless as they were when he lived them: „... das ging schnell“. .Just as rapid is the fall into social misery in the form of welfare („Hartz IV, colloquial term for unemployment benefit II, the fourth stage of the Hartz concept drafted by the Hartz Commission in 2002) and loss of housing, when the landlord kicks him out (in German „vor die Tür setzen“, put in front of the door). Completely neglected, despite all his efforts, he ends up on the street: „ungewaschen, unrasiert – alles probiert, doch nichts hat funktioniert“ (unwashed, unshaven—tried everything, but nothing worked).
Farin Urlaub also finds fitting, albeit harsh, images for this final ending in the last verse: „Ich unter einer dunklen Brücke, ich wie ich mich nach Kippen bücke / ich, wie ich an der Mauer lehne, ich jetzt ohne Schneidezähne“ (Me under a dark bridge, me bending down to pick up cigarette butts / me, leaning against the wall, me now without incisors). It is, of course, unlikely that there are any pictures of these stages of life, because such a comedown is not very presentable and hardly suitable for the family album. But persisting with the narrative technique even when it becomes absurd and painful is thoroughly effective in its abysmal nature. And after all the beautiful opportunities for identification, it opens up the listener's mind to the thought that, fortunately, their own life did not end up under the bridge, but somehow continued. Here, however, it comes to an end, and in this way: „ich, wie ich im Winter frier – noch einmal seh ich alles vor mir / ich als Kind an Mamas Hand, ich mit Nina, glücklich – ich am Strand“ (me, freezing in winter – once again I see everything before me: / me as a child holding my mother's hand, me with Nina, happy – me on the beach). The narrator is stranded, has messed up his life. In German there is a phrase for messing up something: „etwas in den Sand setzen“ (Put something in the sand), the element that stands for his happiest moments.
So we have already accompanied the narrator through childhood, school, business studies, unemployment, and homelessness, and are finally released into a lethal fantasy of redemption in which the happiest moments are conjured up once again. Mama appears, the beloved Nina, who was probably more than just a teenage crush, and the place of greatest happiness, lightness, and carefreeness: the beach. Due to the scarcity of the narrative framework, this place remains topographically undefined. No palm trees are conjured up, no hammocks, there is no indication of where exactly this paradise is located. In this case, the role of embellishment is taken on by the music, which, like the lyrics, was written by Farin Urlaub. Both form a concise narrative unit. The gallop through the stages of life is accompanied by a dull, driving beat, but as soon as the beach comes into play, mariachi-style trumpet fanfares set in, evoking a diffuse Caribbean attitude to life and taking the tempo out of the song. Here, nothing whips you forward, here nothing and no one is forced to move on and succeed, here you are human, here you are allowed to be. The beach, an intermediate realm of human respite.

[Chrisinom]

Die Prinzen: Deutschland / Mia: Was es ist

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/deutschl ... any.html-0
Somewhere in Germany in 2000: During a student exchange between schools in the US and Germany, a discussion breaks out among the students. The American high school kids can't believe that the German high school students claim not to be particularly proud of being German. What they didn't know: Ten years after reunification in 1990, patriotism still remained a difficult subject for many Germans. After World War II, other nations, as established democracies, returned relatively unproblematically to patriotism in its original sense. In Germany, this was long forbidden. In addition, there was no German nation state after the division. While East Germany replaced the nation with the “working class,” West Germany always struggled to establish an identity. So it still seemed unusual when Gustav Heinemann concluded his first speech as Federal President in 1969 with the words: “There are difficult fatherlands. One of them is Germany. But it is our fatherland.” Only after reunification did Germany formally become a normal state in Europe and develop its own national consciousness. Federal President Richard von Weizsäcker said in his speech at the state ceremony on October 3, 1990: “We can combine the constitutional patriotism that has grown on one side with the human solidarity experienced on the other to form a powerful whole. However, this still did not happen without reservations in this country. Or, in the words of Karl Kraus:“It is German that the question of what is German never dies out.”
The ambivalent attitude of Germans toward their homeland at the beginning of the new millennium is reflected in two songs from 2001 and 2003. The first song is by the band “Die Prinzen.” After the great successes of the early 90s with hits such as “Küssen verboten,” “Millionär,” “Alles nur geklaut,” " Schwein sein“, „Die Prinzen“ strayed somewhat from their path to success in 1995, as the significantly more guitar-oriented work ”Alles Mit'm Mund" (Everything with your mouth), produced by the sharp-nosed Stefan Raab of all people, fell short of sales expectations, even though the meeting of the nation's joker with the ironically cheeky lyricists actually seemed to guarantee success. Shortly before their anniversary year in 2001, the band returned to Hamburg to record, where their early successes had originated and where Annette Humpe, who had helped launch their career, had rejoined the production team. A-ha producer Andreas Herbig also stopped by the studio. The first sign of life was the single “Deutschland,” in which Die Prinzen provocatively confronted their home country.
A lot of time was spent on “Deutschland” and the new album. The group first traveled to Cuba and then to Sardinia to write. In the end, they came up with 50 demos. “Deutschland” was created together with Austrian music producer Steve van Velvet. Before a detailed analysis, let's take a brief look at two interpretations.

1. “The song talks about Germany and how great the people and country are. The protagonist talks about how they are the kindest people in the world, great at sports, and have a lot of money. However, there are some negative aspects, such as some people being racist and prioritizing cars over women. Despite this, they are proud of their country and are always ready for war. Overall, the song is about how great Germany is, but also acknowledges some of the negative aspects. (https://radio.callmefred.com/en/song_st ... e-prinzen/)
2. Performed by “Die Prinzen,” the pop song “Deutschland” (“Germany”) offers up an irreverent, satirical take on stereotypical German qualities and habits. The playful but pointed lyrics are the work of German songwriter Steve Van Velvet. The song pokes fun at certain aspects of Germanness and German culture while posing thought-provoking questions about patriotism/chauvinism, xenophobia, and other social issues. (https://germanhistory-intersections.org ... cument-246)
   So who's right? The first interpretation comes from CMF Radio, which was launched during the 2020 covid lockdown. It now plays the very best in AI music and provides interpretations of more than 300,000 pop songs. Judging from this interpretation, it must be the Elon Musk AI. What a striking example of misunderstanding a satire as a sort of MGGA (Make Germany Great Again) message!
   Another explanation is that the AI only considered the first two verses of the song, which are ambiguous. „Wetten, dass?“, supposedly a unique achievement, is a German-language Saturday entertainment television show. It is the largest and most successful television show in Europe. Its format was the basis for the British show You Bet! and the American show Wanna Bet? The family show was extremely popular in Germany for thirty years (from 1981 to 2011) and distracted people from their everyday problems for several hours on six to eight Saturdays a year: „Vielen Dank für die schönen Stunden“ (Thank you very much for the wonderful hours). The narrator of the song who acts as a representative of Germans boasts about his compatriots, praising their friendliness as customers and their typical modesty despite the country's prosperity. However, the asyndetic sequence “wie sind bescheiden, wir haben Geld” (is it „because“ or „although“?) raises initial doubts about the exemplary nature of the Germans.
   In the following, this praise is taken to absurd extremes („Die Allerbesten in jedem Sport“, that is, the absolute, unrivaled leaders), and the superlative is even used to describe the level of taxes: “The taxes here are a world record.” (Weltrekord). The song continues in the style of tourism office advertising brochures: „Bereisen Sie Deutschland“ („Bereisen“ means travel in a country or region to get to know it thoroughly). The song even encourages visitors to stay in Germany and settle there permanently, arguing that Germans are the friendliest people in the world. („das freundlichste Volk auf dieser Welt“).
   However, „Die Prinzen“ knew well that Germans were not particularly friendly toward foreigners in the last decade of the 19th century. The early 1990s were marked by a peak in racist violence that shook the newly reunified Federal Republic of Germany. The names of the places where violent excesses and arson attacks took place have now become synonymous with a period often referred to as the “Baseballschlägerjahre“ (baseball bat years.) In Hoyerswerda, Saxony, more than a hundred violent offenders gathered on September 17, 1991, and attacked shelters housing refugees and migrant workers. The brutal riots were watched by onlookers. Between August 22 and 26, 1992, the pogrom in Rostock-Lichtenhagen followed, during which several hundred rioters, some of them right-wing extremists, attacked people in a dormitory for former Vietnamese contract workers and in the Central Reception Center for Asylum Seekers. On the third day, they set fire to the buildings, again accompanied by several thousand applauding spectators. On November 23, 1992, an arson attack was carried out on the Arslan family home in Mölln, killing 10-year-old Yeliz Arslan, 14-year-old Ayşe Yılmaz, and 51-year-old Bahide Arslan, and seriously injuring other family members. The deadly arson attack was preceded by another attack on a nearby house. The residents of that house were of Turkish origin, and nine of them suffered serious injuries. On May 28, 1993, right-wing extremists carried out a murderous attack on a single-family home in Solingen, killing six people.
   At the end of December 1992, the German Bundestag voted with a two-thirds majority from the CDU/CSU, SPD, and FDP in favor of a far-reaching amendment to Article 16 of the „Grundgesetz“, which represented a significant curtailment of the fundamental right to asylum. The constitutional amendment came into force on June 28, 1993, making it more difficult to successfully invoke the fundamental right to asylum. The so-called “Asylkompromiss“ (asylum compromise) was not only a reaction to the increase in the number of asylum seekers in the early 1990s. It can also be seen as a reaction to racist acts of violence. This, too, is an example of how a democratic society deals with extremist acts and positions held by part of its population. On the part of right-wing extremist perpetrators of violence, there remained the realization that the massive racist violence of the early 1990s could influence political decisions.
   None of this seems to bother the patriotic speaker of the song. What does bother him, however, is “eine Kleinigkeit“ (a minor detail) that he considers “verkehrt“ (wrong), namely that race car driver Michael Schumacher does not drive a German car (“not a Mercedes”). After this bridge, the tone of the song changes with the second verse. The “wir“ (we Germans)” is replaced by „viele“ (many) and “mancher” (many a German). Many Germans not only love their homeland, they are smug about it („bilden sich ... was auf Deutschland ein“). The band's distancing itself from these fellow countrymen is more than clear: "Und mancher findet es geil, ein Arschloch zu sein" ( some people think it's cool to be an asshole). What this means is starkly illustrated in the following:„Es gibt manchen, der sich gern über Kanaken beschwert / Und zum Ficken jedes Jahr nach Thailand fährt“. These people are complaining about foreigners („Kanaken“ - “Kanake” is originally an indigenous inhabitant of the South Sea Islands, especially New Caledonia. However, the word is mostly used in a crude, derogatory, and discriminatory way for foreigners, members of another, foreign ethnic group.) The same racists go to Thailand every year “zum Ficken“ (to fuck). This “tradition” of sex tourism continues to this day: according to estimates, more than half a million men from Germany alone travel abroad every year to buy sex in other countries. Their destinations include Morocco, Egypt, and Thailand.
   The second part of the verse returns to the “we” of the Germans who love their homeland and are proud of German cars: “Wir lieben uns're Autos mehr als uns're Frauen“ (We love our cars more than our wives). The high quality of expensive German cars like Porsche, Mercedes and BMW is a cliché world wide. However, the reason give here is revealing, “denn deutschen Autos können wir vertrauen“ (because we can trust German cars.) It follows logically that they cannot trust their wives. This is followed by another ode to Germany as "God's own country“: „Gott hat die Erde nur einmal geküsst: / Genau an dieser Stelle, wo jetzt Deutschland ist“ (God kissed the earth only once: / Right here, where Germany is now). The exaggerated chauvinistic self-confidence of being the best at everything („überall die Besten“) is illustrated by two very dubious examples. Germans are supposedly the best lovers in the world (“... natürlich auch im Bett”), which is certainly not a positive cliché about Germas. It is true that Germans (not all of them, of course) are particularly fond of cats and dogs. One would only wish that they were just as fond of non-Germans (see above).
   The shorter third verse returns to the ugly realities of being German. Germans are particularly good at beating people up („Wir sind besonders gut im Auf-die-Fresse-hau'n - „Fresse“ is colloquial for „Gesicht“, „jemandem die Fresse polieren“ is a common collocation) and can be trusted as expert arsonists („im Feuerlegen kann man uns vertrau'n“), as the attacks on Turkish families in Mölln and Solingen (see above) show. Germans value („stehen auf“, etwas besonders mögen) secondary virtues such as order and cleanliness, but their peacefulness has not been particularly pronounced throughout history, which is underlined by an internal rhyme: „Wir sind jederzeit für 'nen Krieg bereit“. The famous punctuality of trains to Auschwitz speaks for itself. The verse ends with a greeting to the world („Schönen Gruß an die Welt“, the accusative is chosen here, as in expressions like „Guten Morgen“, because it's an incomplete sentence: „Wir senden ...) and an appeal that the world should finally realize that pride in Germany is more than justified. Those who still fail to grasp the irony of this statement will hopefully take note of the fact that the rhyming word “sein” is replaced by “Schwein,” which is repeated eight times.
   The refrain is simple and doesn't require further explanation. It could be replaced by the first line in another song about Germany from 2003: „Es ist was es ist“.
   Mia: Es ist, was es ist
   
   Lyrics: https://genius.com/Mia-deu-was-es-ist-lyrics
   When Mia released their first album, “Hieb Und Stichfest,” (Watertight, foolproof) in the summer of 2002, love and hate were closely intertwined in the pop world. Celebrated as a magnificent live act by their supporters, torn apart by their detractors. Fans and numerous critics alike attested that the electro-punks with a penchant for drama were the reincarnation of Annette Humpe. Ready to explode. Curtain up: Mia from Berlin. Their first singles sank largely unheard into the indie underground, but when the single “Alles Neu” was released in the spring of 2002, the world had changed considerably: Mia were barely recognizable. The NDW (Neue Deutsche Welle) revival train was in full swing and Mia were in the right place at the right time. Lively electro-pop and punchy guitar riffs collided, while Mieze Katz (Pussycat), the hyperactive frontwoman, took center stage with German (and initially English) lyrics. The breakthrough came in 2003 with the song “Was Es Ist” (What it is).
   However, this breakthrough was hotly contested in the feature pages. “It is what it is: damn stupid,” was how the left-wing alternative newspaper taz described it, for example. The German expression the newspaper used was „saudämlich“.The adjective “dämlich” has nothing to do with women („Damen)“, but comes from the Low German verb dämel(e)n (18th century) and means “to be not quite bright, to be dizzy, not quite in one's right mind.” It is related to the Indo-European root *tem- (“dark,” “mentally dazed”), as is the word Dämmerung (twilight). The song title and the beginning of the chorus quote the most famous (non-political) poem by political poet Erich Fried from 1983:
   https://www.planetlyrik.de/lyrikkalende ... as-es-ist/
   The song begins with two fairly innocuous-sounding paragraphs that seem to confirm the expectation that this is a love song. The lyrical narrator, a woman, wakes up after a short night of love, still tired, and presumably turns to her lover without looking at him: “Ich dreh den Kopf ... lass meine Augen zu" (I turn my head... keep my eyes closed). She wonders what kept her from sleeping: „Was hat mich um den Schlaf gebracht?“ At the same time, you see the band members dressed in black, red, and yellow in the video and immediately think of the beginning of Heinrich Heine's poem „Nachtgedanken“ (Night Thoughts) from 1846: “Denk ich an Deutschland in der Nacht / Dann bin ich um den Schlaf gebracht“ (When I think of Germany at night / Then I am robbed of sleep) However, the song initially continues with the theme of romantic love. The narrator feels close to her partner and enjoys physical contact: “...genieße deine Hand in meiner Hand“. However, the last two lines sound rather strange to people who are very sensitive to anything that smacks of nationalism: “"Was ich jetzt weiß und noch nicht wusste - / bin nicht mehr fremd in meinem Land"( What I know now and did not know before— / I am no longer a stranger in my own country.)
   What has only been hinted at so far becomes evident in the bridge through overly clear color symbolism. A sip of coffee (black) after waking up („Ein Schluck vom schwarzen Kaffee“), a gentle kiss (red - „Dein roter Mund berührt mich sacht“), the (yellow) sun rises („... geht die gelbe Sonne auf“)—at this moment, hopefully, it clicks for the listener too („In diesem Augenblick, es klickt“) unless the disco noise drowns out everything else. This is followed by the chorus with the aforementioned excerpt from Erich Fried's poem, which also forms the title of the song: „Es ist was es ist, sagt die Liebe - / Was es ist, fragt der Verstand“ (It is what it is, says love - / what it is, asks reason). Thinking of the nation as the actual focus of the song, it essentially says, “Questioning Germany is a matter of reason, but what actually constitutes ‘my country’ cannot be determined by reason, but is a matter of emotion, of love. Mia don't shy away from using clear national metaphors. In the video for “Was es ist” and on stage, in the video and at the Love Parade, the band appears dressed in black, red, and gold.
   What is the intention behind this? MIA ask themselves this question: “"Wohin es geht, das woll'n wir wissen"(We want to know where it's going.) The band spares us the next line here and hums instead. The second verse attempts to provide an answer: the band speak of a change in their consciousness and in the consciousness of the German people: “Ich fühle, wie sich alles wandelt“ („sich wandeln“ is a sohisticared word for „sich ändern“). The young generation, which the band sees itself as representing, lives in a changed present, is no longer fixated on the guilt-laden past, and moves freely and cosmopolitanly in the new world. Friends of the lyrical narrator are appreciated abroad for their direct manner, dancing in the Pacha disco in Ibiza with other young people. According to MIA, this is the present of their generation, the young generation: „... das ist unsere Gegenwart“. The past is a corset („... was mich beengt in meinem Leben“),from which the protagonist can free herself. She sees this as a historical change: „... denn mit Ändern (Capitalization as a nominalized infinitive) fängt Geschichte an“. This also explains her joyful anticipation of life in the chorus: „Ich freu mich auf mein Leben“.
   This change is accompanied by a new patriotic self-confidence, as the third verse makes clear: ""Fragt man mich jetzt, woher ich komme, / tu' ich mir nicht mehr selber leid" ( If you ask me now where I come from, / I no longer feel sorry for myself – here again there is an inversion instead of a conditional clause). It is made clear at this point that this love song is primarily about love for one's homeland: „"Ich riskier' was für die Liebe" (I'm risking something for love). The protagonist is ready for change. The bridge appears in new words now: The black night is the past („.. die schwarze Nacht hüllte uns ein“, wrapped us up), the yellow sun becomes a bright day. Now it is also specified in the refrain, „wohin es geht“: „... wir betreten neues deutsches Land" (we are entering new German territory). All of this is debatable, but unfortunately this new patriotism also includes relativization of German history through the metaphor of the “frische(n) Spuren“ (fresh tracks) that the protagonist leaves in the whitebsand. The white sand is, so to speak, the untouched, clean foundation for the new nation.
   Mia caused stomach pains among attentive listeners: the song sounded like the soundtrack to the much-cited closing of the book on Germany's past. Hamburg bands such as Tocotronic and Blumfeld shared this criticism. Tocotronic rejected any kind of reverence for the homeland on their website, “especially nowadays, when all kinds of glamorous miracles are awakening a new German self-confidence.” Blumfeld wrote in a statement that anyone who hoped to “give a little finger or more to a German-obsessed public” was either a nationalist, naive, or obsessed with success. And Mia's music had a wider impact. There were reports of the first Nazi demonstrations at which “Was es ist” was played. Neo-Nazis took notice. On the other hand, the song anticipated developments that were particularly evident during and after the 2006 World Cup, the so-called “Sommermärchen“ (summer fairy tale). No sooner had the World Cup begun than a wave of optimism swept through the country. The weather did the rest, and Germany indulged in four weeks of exhilarating celebration. But it wasn't just Germany's self-image that underwent a significant upgrade—foreign countries also felt like they were “visiting friends.” The strong identification with the national team was accompanied by a significant interest in the culture of other nations. Empirical analyses of Germany's image abroad concluded that the World Cup had a positive impact on Germany's reputation in the world. Anyone who warned against national exuberance during this period had a difficult time. The role of national Cassandra, which had previously been easy to fill, was no longer in demand. How can this development be classified and evaluated in retrospect?
   The end of the post-war period can be described as the “leitmotif” of the Schröder government 1998 - 2005). With the red-green coalition, representatives of the 1968 generation took responsibility for a community whose liberalism they had long doubted. Large sections of the population embarked on a path of ethical responsibility which, while still viewed with suspicion under Helmut Kohl as a dangerous „Sonderweg“ (special path), is now largely uncontroversial – be it the “German way” in the Iraq conflict, the upgrading of the commemoration of July 20, 1944, through the introduction of the recruit's oath in front of the Reichstag, or the significantly more relaxed use of terms such as “German nation” and “German interest.” Gerhard Schröder, who was the first German chancellor to attend the D-Day commemorations in Normandy, probably unintentionally created, through his style of government, some of the conditions for a more relaxed approach to national symbolism, as manifested at the 2006 World Cup. The previously controversial debates about “Leitkultur” (dominant culture) and multiculturalism also played a role. In the mid-2000s, there seemed to be a social consensus that a multicultural society in particular needed a common cultural guiding principle. This was demanded by intellectuals with a migrant background such as Seyran Ateş, Feridun Zaimoglu, and Zafer Şenocak, as well as later by the “Green” politician Renate Künast, who, in view of “decades of suppressed integration problems” in Germany, conceded that the “basic set of rules and shared convictions” of a society could “not consist solely of paragraphs.” This discourse can be used as a further explanatory factor for why some soccer fans with a migrant background had painted their faces in black, red, and gold.
   However, one thing must not be overlooked. Among the “traces in the white sand” are also the bloody traces left by the right-wing extremist terrorist group NSU (National Socialist Underground), which murdered nine people for racist motives and a policewoman between 2000 and 2007. Enver Şimşek, Abdurrahim Özüdoğru, Süleyman Taşköprü, Habil Kılıç, Mehmet Turgut, İsmail Yaşar, Theodoros Boulgarides, Mehmet Kubaşık, Halit Yozgat, and Michèle Kiesewetter were the names of the people murdered by the three alleged members of the right-wing extremist terrorist group. For years, neither the police nor the Office for the Protection of the Constitution considered a right-wing extremist motive for the crimes. Many of the victims' families were stigmatized by derogatory or trivializing media coverage and the work of the security authorities, and did not receive the state support to which they were entitled. The discovery of the NSU in November 2011 revealed a new dimension of right-wing terrorism in Germany. In July 2018, the main defendant, Beate Zschäpe, and four co-defendants were found guilty in the so-called NSU trial. The two main perpetrators, Uwe Mundlos and Uwe Böhnhardt, had committed suicide shortly before their arrest.

[Chrisinom]

Hildegard Knef: Für mich soll's rote Rosen regnen

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/fuer-mic ... es-me.html
In his “Lied von der Glocke“ (Song of the Bell), Friedrich Schiller succinctly sums up the bourgeois gender role model of the 19th century. The family was increasingly perceived as private and closed itself off from the outside world. It was within the family that women had their sphere of influence: diligent, clean, gentle, and docile, they looked after the family home while men went out into the world to fight for their livelihood. It was the Weimar Republic that produced a new female role model. The “new woman” was independent, self-confident, metropolitan, young, athletic, and sexually liberated. She became an icon of her time and stood in sharp, provocative contrast to the traditional bourgeois image of women, which nevertheless remained widespread. Under the slogan “emancipation from women's emancipation,” the Nazi regime took a major step backward. With massive propaganda efforts, the “excesses” of recent times were combated and an appreciation of the role of the mother was staged. A barrage of prohibitions rained down on the field of female employment. However, due to the war-induced labor shortage, the regime soon had to make significant concessions to the revitalized role cliché.
After Germany's unconditional surrender in May 1945, women demanded from the outset that they be involved in the democratic reconstruction process of the country, both politically and socially. Despite political disputes, including among women themselves, there was agreement on the fundamental direction: gender equality. In 1949, the phrase “men and women have equal rights” was enshrined in Article 3, Paragraph 2 of the „Grundgesetz“ (Basic Law). Equality was to apply fundamentally and without exception. The restorative social climate in the early Federal Republic was conducive to the resurgence of the traditional image of women. During the 1950s and 1960s, the Federal Constitutional Court used natural biological differences between men and women to justify unequal treatment. This had concrete disadvantages for women. For example, it made it more difficult for them to access education and work and made financial independence impossible. Despite formal equality, the role of the housewife remained the ideal. The image of the working man and the woman who looks after the home and family dominated thinking until the 1960s. If a woman wanted to work, she needed her husband's permission. He alone could sign the employment contract.
Then came the so-called 68ers. They protested against rigid structures, the Vietnam War, strict sexual morality, and the failure to come to terms with National Socialism: thousands of students took to the streets in the 1960s—and went down in history under the code name “68.” However, women within the protest movement itself had to fight against macho behavior and male power structures. But as early as 1968, one woman raised her voice for women's right to a self-determined life: Hildegard Knef.
“Die Knef” was an actress, singer, writer—and a radical survivor. Even a century after her birth, Hildegard Knef remains a role model for courage, self-determination, and female strength. Her voice was rough and told stories of life even before she spoke a sentence. When Hildegard Knef opened her mouth, you didn't just hear chansons, you heard her biography. She was no diva hiding behind poses. She was a woman who knew what pain sounded like – but also what hope sounded like. She wasn't just an actress, singer, or author. Hildegard Knef was a phenomenon that remained unique in Germany. Even in moments of greatest vulnerability, she radiated poise. No wonder she shaped the image of the emancipated woman for decades: edgy, contradictory, unmistakable. Born in Ulm in 1925, the daughter of a solicitor lost her father at an early age. Her mother moved with her to Berlin, where Hildegard Knef grew up and took acting lessons from an early age. The early loss of her father and growing up in the vibrant metropolis of Berlin had a decisive influence on her personality. Knef was tenacious, resilient, and ambitious.
Germany lay in ruins when Knef celebrated her breakthrough in 1946 with “Die Mörder sind unter uns” (The Murderers Are Among Us). The first German post-war film made the then 20-year-old famous overnight. Her unmistakable style – cool, clear, melancholic – struck a chord with a nation searching for direction. Her performances symbolized hope, change, and a new beginning. She became the voice of a new era. In 1950, she caused a sensation with “Die Sünderin” (The Sinner): a brief nude scene was enough to send moralists up in arms. The scandal was complete – and Knef was the talk of the town overnight. She later commented with dry humor: “I got the shame, the others got the money.” The controversy surrounding the film also highlighted Knef's personal courage in defying social conventions. The scandal brought her international attention and opened the doors to Hollywood and Broadway. In Hollywood, Knef starred alongside Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner in “The Snows of Kilimanjaro.” But her heart belonged to the stage: in 1955, she conquered Broadway with Cole Porter's musical “Silk Stockings” (based on Ernst Lubitsch's film “Ninotchka”). Marlene Dietrich became her mentor and friend. Her time in the US had a profound effect on her, giving her self-confidence and opening her up culturally. Knef changed her citizenship several times during her eventful life: first German, then US, and finally British. It was an expression of her international orientation and her search for a home. The US was not only important to her professionally, but also shaped her personally and emotionally.
Back in Germany, “die Knef” launched a second career as a chanson singer in the 1960s. Her smoky voice (Jazz icon Ella Fitzgerald praised Hildegard Knef as “the greatest singer without a voice”), combined with pointed lyrics set new standards in the German-language music business. Her autobiography “Der geschenkte Gaul” (1970) became a global bestseller, in which she wrote candidly about her life. The title is part of the idiom “Einem geschenkten Gaul schaut man nicht ins Maul” (Don't look a gift horse in the mouth), which means that you should not criticize a gift or examine it for flaws, but rather be satisfied with the giver and the gesture of giving. The origin lies in the horse trade, where opening the mouth served to determine age and identify defects, but this should not be done with a gift in order not to question the value of the gift or the good intentions of the giver. Knef's literary voice was as well received as her musical one. She shaped the zeitgeist and allowed many people to share in her experiences. Hildegard Knef lived emancipation long before feminism became a topic of public debate. Her self-confident, courageous, independent lifestyle was both provocative and inspiring. Three marriages, an international career, openly lived independence: Knef became a role model for generations of women. She rigorously resisted role clichés and showed that femininity and strength go hand in hand. She used her celebrity status to publicly advocate for social openness and acceptance. Knef thus presented an alternative role model that was not based on conventions, but on authenticity and self-realization. Her style—a mixture of glamour, intellect, and „Berliner Schnauze“ (Berlin bluntness, Schnauze is snout)—also embodied a new, modern image of women that continues to have an impact today.
“Für mich soll's rote Rosen regnen” (Let it rain red roses for me) is one of Hildegard Knef's most famous chansons. When German Chancellor Angela Merkel was officially bid farewell with a grand military tattoo („Großer Zapfenstreich“), she was allowed to choose three songs, as is customary. She chose this song as her first selection. The lyrics of the chanson are divided into three verses of varying lengths, each with a different chorus, which deal with the personal development of a female lyrical persona looking back on her life from the present day. Hildegard Knef's biographer Christian Schröder calls it „ein stilisierter Lebensabriss“ (stylized sketch of life), in which the desires of the lyrical ego change over the course of a lifetime. Modal auxiliary verbs are central to all three verses, as is the “sollen” in the chorus. In the first verse, the verb “want” is in the foreground, connected with the first person singular: “Ich will”. The protagonist, a teenager (“mit sechzehn”), wants, as is typical for her age, a happy life („froh sein“), and is full of idealism: unlike the adult world, she wants to always be honest (“nie lügen“). Unlike the average teenager, however, she also wants to be great („groß sein“, probably not only in the sense of “grown up”), be victorious („siegen“). With typical youthful determination, she wants all or nothing („alles oder nichts“).
To fulfill her hopes and dreams, she is dependent on a world that meets her desires. The “Ich will” is now replaced by a demand on the world: it should or ought to. The verb “sollen” has two basic meanings: it stands for a request, instruction, or order, and as an expression of a wish, intention, or plan. The youthful “desire” („Wollen“) of the subject is complemented by an obligation („Sollen“) of the world, which should shower her with red roses, i.e., love, happiness, and all kinds of wonders: „Für mich soll's rote Rosen regnen / Mir sollten sämtliche Wunder begegnen.“ The willing self („Ich“) of the verse becomes the object of its world („Für mich“, „Mir“). The alliteration “Rote Rosen regnen” emphasizes the wonder of this desire. However, this requires a world that is different from that of adults: „Die Welt sollte sich umgestalten“ (the world should change, rearrange itself). Given the obvious biographical reference in the song, it should be noted that Hildegard Knef was sixteen years old in 1941, in the middle of World War II. This explains her subsequent wish that the world should keep its worries to itself.
In the middle years (“later”) of the second verse, the desires change, and the demanding “Ich will” becomes the wish “Ich möcht(e)”. She now only wants to “understand, see a lot, experience, preserve.” The more artistic design of this verse, with its internal rhymes („Verstehen, viel sehen, /Erfahren, bewahre") reflects this softening of desires. The protagonist still wants to be free, but also not be alone. The chorus is also calmer: although she still wants to encounter “all wonders,” the woman is now content with gentle happiness („Das Glück sollte sich sanft verhalten“) and a loving “management” of her fate: „Es soll mein Schicksal mit Liebe verwalten“.
In the present of the song (1986), the lyrical narrator is more combative again: she rejects what she is supposed to do, what is demanded of her from outside (“mich fügen“), she should be satisfied with little and not make any major demands, whether she likes it or not („mich begnügen“), Instead, she repeats the claim of the rebellious teenager: “Will immer noch siegen, will alles – oder nichts!” In the final chorus, she reiterates this once more: she does not want to encounter all miracles, but completely new ones („ganz neue“); she wants to cast off the old and blossom anew („Mich fern vom Alten neu entfalten „). She wants to keep most of what she expected („Von dem, was erwartet, das meiste halten“). The song ends with the self-determined statement “Ich will ich will.”
This female self-determination was strong stuff even in 1968, as Hildegard Knef herself stated. In an interview, she said that she had asked the song's composer, Hans Hammerschmid, to compose a melody in three-four time to accompany her “highly aggressive” lyrics. The musical arrangement was intended to soften the lyrics, which were very self-centered for the time. “I wrote that in a moment of absolute megalomania [...] It's a really highly aggressive song. [...] I want it to rain red roses for me, I don't really care what happens to the others.”

[MoniqueMaRie]

@Chrisinom
Thank you for this wonderful song of Hildegard Knef.
In Wikipedia I just read that Ella Fitzgerald called Hildegard Knef "best singer without a voice".
That sums up what I've always thought about this song. A truly wonderful song, sung in a very unique way with a very distinctive voice.

Btw: I just had to look up the word "poise". I hope it will stick in my mind.

[Chrisinom]

Nina Chuba: Wildberry Lillet

Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/wildberr ... illet.html
„Ich will“: This is also the theme of a song that reached number one in the German charts in 2022. Nina Chuba far surpasses Hildegard Knef in terms of quantity: she sings “Ich will” about four times as often as the famous chanteuse. The two have one thing in common: they both started out as actresses. Nina Kaiser (her real name) appeared in front of the camera for the first time at the age of seven, when she took on the role of the youngest investigator in the children's series „Die Pfefferkörner“ (The Peppercorns). With the first money she earned from her participation in the series, she bought herself a piano, among other things. In the years that followed, she appeared as a child actress in numerous series and films. After her musical beginnings with the five-piece band “Blizz”, Nina decided in 2018 to start completely afresh. She quit her job, dropped out of college, left the band, and set off for Berlin to fulfill her dream of a solo singing career. She gave herself the pseudonym Nina Chuba and has since released a few songs in English, which can be classified as soul, pop, and indie. It wasn't until Nina Chuba surprised everyone with her first German-language song at the end of 2021 that a certain buzz began to spread. Vulnerable and strong at the same time, the young singer gives intimate insights into her passionate heartbreak without losing her composure. With “Wildberry Lillet,” Nina celebrated her first really big success in the summer of 2022. The song quickly racked up millions of views on YouTube and even knocked the much-discussed “Layla” off the top of the German singles charts. With her soulful, soft yet edgy and distinctive voice and her undeniable lyrical talent, Nina Chuba is definitely here to stay.
At first glance, the song seems rather superficial and presumptuous. What she wants! For older generations, this is completely unacceptable, as one YouTube commenter notes in youthful spelling: “meine mutter würde sagen 'ich will' gibt's schonmal gar nicht" (My mother would say, ‘I want’ is not an option.)” Wishes follow one after another, unsystematically and unsorted, in German and in English. First and foremost, it's about material possessions: „Immos“, Immobilien (real estate), „Dollars“, „Lila das sich stapelt“ (purple money, the color of the 500 euro notes, piling up), buying the world and nobody paying („Kaufe die Welt und keiner bezahlt“), „Private Jet in der Garage“, a garden with flamingos („Flamingos in mei'm Garten“), „Ocean-View und Beach Waves“, „'ne Insel irgendwo in der Südsee“ (an island somewhere in the South Seas), „für immer alles gratis“ (everything free forever). The pursuit of wealth and luxury culminates in the line “Ich will haben, haben, haben”. This is linked to what she considers a luxurious lifestyle: “Zum Frühstück Canapés und ein Wildberry Lillet (https://www.lillet.com/en/cocktails/lillet-wild-berry/), “alles vom Buffet“.
So it's hardly surprising that Nina Chuba has had to put up with a fair amount of criticism. Labels such as “capitalist”, “industry plant,” and “one-hit wonder” are just some of the accusations that high-flyer Nina Chuba has had to endure repeatedly since her breakthrough. However, one should not make the mistake of equating the artist (Nina Kaiser) with the “I” (Nina Chuba) in the song. And we should also take into account the genre in which the artist operates. According to her own statement, Nina Chuba chose this stage name because “Kaiser” could be too closely associated with German „Schlager“ songs. Financial success in music has been a topic of discussion at least since the Wu-Tang Clan advised us to “Get the money, dollar dollar bill y'all.” In hip-hop in particular, it has been a stylistic element from the very beginning, and one by which musical success is measured. What is celebrated here, however, is not capitalism itself or the people who have benefited from a system of exploitation since birth. It is a celebration of having made it to the top from a disadvantaged situation, especially as a Black or migrant person. Away from daily struggle, toward millions. Over time, it's not just people who want to escape poverty who have adopted this style. In rap today, status symbols are flaunted everywhere and all the time to show that you've made it big with your musical talent. You just flex. (“flexen” means showing off, bragging, displaying wealth, strength, or other possessions in yoof-speak).
And that's exactly what Nina does: “... ich will Nina auf Plakaten“ (I want Nina on posters). She does this in a lighthearted, somewhat ironic way. Nina did not come from a socially disadvantaged background, but here she uses the flex attitude as a playful metaphor for her success. It's not about “being rich,” but about “becoming rich,” which is the focus here—and which was not even in sight at the time “Wildberry Lillet” was written. The song is an ode to her self-made career and to finally having what she had always dreamed of. So Nina is basically doing the same thing that many of your favorite rappers have been doing throughout their entire music careers. It's funny, then, that it only becomes uncool when a woman wants to grab the mansions and wealth of this world. Rather than a celebration of capitalism, the real estate, dollars, and canapés for breakfast are a symbol of being able to rest on the laurels of a hard-earned career.
Given the abundance of Nina's material desires, there is a danger of overlooking her other wishes. She does not only think of herself, but also considers her mother's well-being („ein Haus für meine Mama an der Küste von Catania“) and her need for closeness to her friends („Will, dass alle meine Freunde bei mir wohnen in der Straße“). She also has another wish: she wants to fly like in Marvel. „Fliegen“ there represents superiority and power. It also shows a desire for transcendence and the unattainable. The mixture of science fiction, fantasy, and mythology in Marvel stories makes flying particularly fascinating. It shows the powers of superheroes and the desire for freedom. On the other hand, Nina does not want to “grow old”; she wants time to stand still for her. In addition to uninhibited luxury, the transience and fragility of the moment are also celebrated. Moreover, she longs for the closeness of a ‘you’: “... when I wake up, I want to see your face.” Those who do not know what tomorrow will bring and can only live in the present want to truly live in the now and savor today to the fullest. The fact that the song is not just about money and superficialities is also made clear by the line: „Kaufe die Welt und keiner bezahlt“. It is not about wealth itself, but about savoring life.
“Wildberry Lillet” is a precursor to and part of Nina Chuba's first album, “Glas.” At first glance, Chuba seems to be floating on cloud nine with her hedonism, conveying a feeling of lavish lightheartedness so effortlessly and convincingly. This is also the case in the following single (also from the album), “Mangos mit Chili.” Here, Nina Chuba buys the sky and paints it blue („Also kauf ich den Himmel und mal ihn mir blau“). But over the course of the album, Nina Chuba illustrates how quickly this attitude can turn into excess. Everything is possible, everything can be had. Alcohol, luxury, success. But as soon as the intoxication wears off, disillusionment sets in. Everything is possible, but what of it has value? Generation Z, which was able to experience the zenith of Western prosperity, only to be confronted with the possibility of free fall due to climate change, pandemic, and war, focuses on this question in pop music. This is probably about more than youthful exuberance and doubt. It's about the disorientation of a crisis-ridden generation that grew up with the promise of more and better – and now has to realize that this was an empty promise. Nina Chuba wants to fly like in Marvel. She herself seems to know only too well that a high flight is usually followed by a crash.
Wildberry Lillet is not the final word of Generation Z's Pippi Longstocking, shaping the pop world to her liking. A song from her album released this year, “Ich lieb mich, ich lieb mich nicht” (I love myself, I don't love myself), entitled „Unsicher“ (Uncertain) ends with the chorus “Ich stolper' durch die große, weite Welt, ich bin so unsicher / Ich bin noch nicht so gut dadrin, ich leb' grade zum ersten Mal“ (I stumble through the big, wide world, I am so uncertain / I'm not very good at it yet, I'm just living for the first time). (Lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/nina-chu ... er-english)