Harangozó Teri – Banánvirág (1980)
All hail The Divine One, played by none other than Laura Gemser, and to Christan Anders who wrote and sang the theme song for the film, known as Die Todesgöttin des Liebescamps (Death Goddess of Love Camp), Divine Emanuelle or simply Love Camp. And get this: herr Anders not only also wrote and directed the whole thing, he co-stars in it as well!
The film has everything except a character actually called Emanuelle. There are frenzied dance displays to wild 70s style disco music on a Greek island, rampant nudity, endless soft core groping sessions, violence, amazing hairdos and huge amounts of totally crazed dialoque. The Divine One is a sight to behold, a flaming creature who rules the hippie members of a sex cult with an iron hand – anyone not embracing her free love ideology is subjected to vicious whippings, or bluntly put to death. And the title theme! Oscars for best soundtrack songs have been given to lesser entries, that’s for sure.
Nights are gradually getting darker and the nightly trips to the nearest lakes feel much more dreamy. My favourite swimming spot is located about one hour drive from Turku. The road includes a short highway passage and twisty floating roads in the forest. Here are a few grooves tested on those roads. Some already approved on the dance floor too.
The high operatic notes reached by Waylon on his record Crème de la Crème have been documented here several times as has been the output of Sylvester. Now let’s hear it for Klaus Nomi, born as Klaus Sperber in Immerstadt, Bavaria. Nomi was a one-time usher at the Deutsche Oper in Berlin, as well as a performer at a gay discothèque Kleist Casino, before moving to New York in 1972 where he became legendary in the city’s art and club scenes.
The voice you hear is a falsetto, not a castrato. A castrato singer’s voice is the result of a castration done before puberty.
The creation of castrati singers became popular first in Rome during the mid-16th century, when the pope banned women singing in churches or on the stage. Italian boys with promising voices would be taken to a back-street barber-surgeon, drugged with opium, and placed in a hot bath. The expert would snip the ducts leading to the testicles, which would wither over time. By the early 1700s, it is estimated that around 4,000 boys a year were getting the operation. Some lived thru the mutilation and many died from complications. Few became celebrated singers.
The high notes of a pre-pubescent boy wafting from the lungs of an adult were said to sound magical and ethereal. The prowess came from an increased breath capacity. The lack of testosterone allowed the skeleton to continue to grow beyond what was normal. Limbs would elongate. As would ribs. This was why castrati had such exceptional lung power. Nobody now actually knows what a castrato singer sounded like, as the practice became illegal in 1861, before recordings could be produced.
I had nothing better to do tonight than drive pointlessly around the small country roads. Usually I like to go for a refreshing swim, but tonight I was feeling too lazy for anything that sensible. As I can’t afford a car with sexy engine noises it was something from the stereos then. If it sounds groovy in the car it sounds groovy anywhere? Here are a few examples tested. Sound qualities vary from vg- to near mint. Enjoy!
Japanese girl group was typically all about かわいい (Kawaii = exaggarated cuteness celebrating furry little animals, manga characters with big eyes and pink everything) until 1986 when they got surprisingly tough.
I’ll be spinning vinyls at the 4th of June at my favourite spot in the universe – the Uus Õu garden in Tartu, Estonia and later in the night at the vibrant Genialistide Klubi. Even if everything is most likely going to be totally awesome all the time with happy people everywhere, maybe it’s still ok to play some melancholic records? In the picture California fashions of 1967.
I’ve done my best in dismissing the balearic sound. So it’s been somewhat surprising to find a classic Finis Africae long play spinning on my Technics for the past few weeks. I blame it on the spring, the sun and the friendly people for making me feel this happy again. No worries though, November will be here soon. A Couple with tasty poolside fashions shot by Ouka Leele.
It’s all about the outré sleeve really but two of the tracks on the 1985 album made in Praque – where a Golem was reportedly created from clay by a 16th century rabbi – have a certain charm if you can take the brass section. The 2nd tune is a take on a Chuck Berry evergreen. Chuck Berry is a rock and roll legend who at one point got involved with a fourteen-year-old Apache waitress at his nightclub. When questioned about this he replied “She was anything but innocent”. Berry later had a huge hit “My Ding-a-Ling”, an infectious sing-along song about penises.
One for those nights when the only people in the house are headbangers in cross necklaces and denim wests, mixing up “dramatic” and “utterly fucking hideous”. Rough but still danceable. The second track Romantic Ballad is a quite accomplished pulse groove. The record is Estonian.