I’ve had this for years but I don’t know if I ever put it on the Shrine: a demo copy of “My Sweet Lord” that Loka kindly sent to me before I even knew of the project! It has temporary art (or as Nina would call it, “interim” art 
) and most of the songs from the final version. Actually I think one of the tracks ended up on the re-release “Mother is Reacting.”
Click these photos to see them full-size.
Cover and inside photo
Inner sleeve
Backing sleeve
Disc
Submitted by Carlos Evaristo de Araujo in Brazil
Hey – Herr Waffenlieferant
Nu pass mal schön auf!
Hey – Familie Bombenbauer
Sperrt eure Löffel auf!
Eure ganze Lebenslüge
Hat das Volk so satt!
Eure illegalen Kriege – Schach matt!
Die Kriegsverbrecher dieser Welt
Die Zittern vor’m Gericht,
Wenn das Kregverbrechertribunal
Sein gerechtes Urteil spricht.
Im Namen unserer Kinder:
Wir flehen euch an!
Legt die Waffen nieder
Dann fängt die Zeit des Friedens an
Wir sind das Volk des Friedens
-wir verehren uns
Wir sind das Volk des Liebens
-wir vermehren uns
Wir sind das Volk der Freiheit
-und wir wehren uns
Gegen Gewalt! Gegen Gewalt!
Wir sind das Volk! Wir sind das Volk!
Wir sind das Volk – Das Volk sind Wir!
Massenmörder – Lesereise – Autobiographie
Ein ganz legaler Kriegsverbrecher
S’grenzt an Shizophrenie
Deine feine Lebenslüge
Hat das Volk sooo satt!
Deine illegalen Kriege – Schach Matt!
Die Gentec-Lobby Sugardaddies jagen wir davon
Wer die Schöpfung patentieren läßt
Der hat hier nix verlorn
Wann wird endlich Frienden sein
Und Menschlichkeit auf Erden,
In Liebe und Gerechtigkeit,
Was soll aus uns nur noch warten
Auf eure Gunst
Wer hat den Graten
Des Volkes so verhunzt?
Zieh euch warm an, Volks-Verräter
Seelenausverkauf
Herzen kalt und hart wie Stein
Das Böse schlich sich bei euch ein
Wir brechen euren bösen bann
Wir schaffen ihn ab
Ganz ohne Gewalt
Nicht so wie ihr, aber so wie wir
Wir sind das Volk des Friedens
-wir verehren uns
Wir sind das Volk des Liebens
-wir vermehren uns
Wir sind das Volk der Freiheit
-und wir wehren uns
Gegen Gewalt! Gegen Gewalt!
Wir sind das Volk! Wir sind das Volk
Wir sind das Volk – das Volk sind wir!
Wir sind das Volk! Wir sind das Volk
Wir sind das Volk – das Volk sind wir!
Wir sind das Volk! Wir sind das Volk
Wir sind das Volk – das Volk sind wir!
Wir sind das Volk!!
(More lyrics to come eventually – feel free to email more to shoogle2 @ gmail . com)
Looks like Nina’s new all-German album “Volksbeat” is just around the corner! Pre-order it from Amazon.de using this link, if you would be so kind.
In a short interview with Max Nöje, Nina talks a little about the new release.
It’s been a few years since I moved the Shrine off my own web hosting service onto TypePad. Using TypePad was OK, but it was never very pretty to look at and their design options are pretty limited. So the other day I got a wild hair and decided to move the site back to my own hosting space in a format I have almost full control over (WordPress). This at least lets me tweak things I couldn’t before, yet still keep the “blog” format without having to use an HTML program. So I can still be lazy about it but keep it looking decent.
All comments posted by readers have been brought over to the new format, which is nice. And, as always, you’re free to comment on anything posted here, no account necessary. Also, feel free to put in a fake email address if you like. I don’t spam people, but I can’t say the same for spambots which may attempt to scoop up email addresses from here. There’s not much I can do about that, unfortunately…
There haven’t been many updates here lately, but Nina’s homepage will always have the most recent info about what she’s up to. There are also some great fansites out there which are much more current and interesting than this one…the Shrine will continue to be more of a media archive than the full-blown fansite it once was. This has been my hobby for nearly 15 years and I’m happy to keep it around a bit longer!
Since Nina was coming out with her autobiography (and, later, a new album), I decided to bring back the TypePad blog and start posting about it. Also began beefing up the interviews section by adding more interviews, PDF versions, and translation links.
(Click to enlarge)
“Gott kam mir mit ausgestreckten Armen entgegen” - zeit.de (Apr 8)
Link / English / View PDF
Translation to English via Google:
“God met me with open arms”
Nina Hagen on loss experience in her childhood and youth
TIME magazine: Mrs. Hagen, when you were a child , your mother, Eva-Maria Hagen tried to kill herself.
Nina Hagen: Yes, that was a big shock abandonment. Then you suddenly see that they are not the center of life is. My mother wanted me to live alone. She must have forgotten how much she loved me. I always wanted to protect her. I had such dreams in which my mom on the road running around naked, because I wanted to say you love so much that I think it sucks that they should put on something.
TIME magazine: But your father was there for you?
Hagen: Yes, I was his one and only. But when he began to be unfaithful and being fair to deal with others, came for the first time in my life up the jealousy. Jealousy is indeed the fear that one is not loved. And this loss of experience was repeated again and again. My first love, where I thought we would get married, was also common to tell Sun
TIME magazine: Was there a rescue of this loss aversion?
Hagen: I was a child who always longed for God. Loved me and lifted to feel, not just here and now, but forever and ever. And God is with me, arms outstretched, in fact accommodated. He never said, “Oh no, Nina, you’re not good enough. From today you are no longer my daughter. “So what would never do!
TIME magazine: How did you meet him that you know so exactly what he does and what does not?
Hagen: I was 17 and wanted to know. I wanted proof of God the herbeizwingen. I have taken LSD, because I had heard that some people make it as the natural order in relation to contact with God. The result was an LSD trip, which consisted only of pain. It was hell. I was at the border between this world and the hereafter. And as I said, “Dear God, help me!” And immediately he came and said, “Nina, I am here to help you too.” And I suggested to the eye and was in a beautiful world. Peaceful bliss. And God looked me in the face. And I realized: He loves me just as I loved a man has never yet, and no man can ever love like! And then I asked him: “Are you going away again like all the others?” And he said: “I was always there, I’m always there, and I’ll be there forever.”
TIME magazine: What has made so sure that this encounter with God only an LSD hallucination was not? Sounds a bit like …
Hagen: Talk to people who had a near death experience, which tell you the same thing: there is the dimension of the eternal home.
TIME magazine: Don’t your friends say: “Nina, you’ve got a crack in the bowl”?
Hagen: Nope, they have listened interested. Because I am so authentic. But I realized that my experience really only makes sense to me. For other people this is an interesting fact report, but their faith will get you only if we build a relationship with God himself.
TIME magazine: Since you are 17, you are then lifted in God. That’s not bad.
Hagen: Yes, it was a real rescue. I have now understood that I am earthly, I do not need sexual love any more. I’m already, since my first love died, widow.I am looking for no love, love is just there. I run around and do not want to marry me again or something.
TIME magazine: So only God and love your life partner?
Hagen: Yes, my good friend, teacher, master, God, the love in person.
TIME magazine: That sounds more like the concept of life of a nun?
Hagen: Yes, I am also a nun.
TIME magazine: And since when are you a nun?
Hagen: Ever since the birth of my daughter Cosma. But even before that. If you are a nun, everything is sacred. Even the sexual relationship. The nun, yes, love is a sacred thing. That makes this not because she feels instincts, but simply because they love lives, while pregnant and child in the world brings.
TIME magazine: Normally one to believe always the doubt. Do you also doubt the existence of God?
Hagen: No, I do not know.
TIME magazine: Then you are but one exception and one lucky child!
Hagen: Yes, that’s why God has given me my voice, with which I proclaim his good news.
Short interview on 16vor.de.
Die Mutter des Punk und der Gottvater – 16vor.de (Aug 30)
Link / English / PDF
Translation into English via Google:
The mother of punk and the godfather
The performance of Nina Hagen on Saturday in the Imperial Baths split the audience. Most of the nearly 600 audience celebrated the exalted, eccentric artist, and some did, however, more or less loudly made known their displeasure with the program. It is noted that Nina Hagen is not unusual. She put only her new album “Personal Jesus before.” Apparently some visitors did not want her to interpret traditional music and country music, gospel and blues classics.
After almost half of the concert says a gentleman in the audience to his neighbor: “I don’t know one singe song.” This is remarkable in that the listener’s oeuvre Nina Hagen’s little to be familiar with not only seems, but with pop- Music in general. Because at that time, the singer, who also Lackleggins take 55 can not, including “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode, “Riders on the Storm” by “The Doors” and her own plays “Checkmate” and “What it is “sung. The visitor knows, but apparently only “I glotz TV” (O-Ton). “TV Glotzer”, as Nina Hagen’s probably the most popular number is correct, is applied on the set list, but two (!) Flanked by parentheses. Played the title that night but not.
Nina Hagen is especially her new book “Personal Jesus” before “on which she as a concept album implements what is already since set to music,” Our Father “on her early in UFO-phase resulting CD,” Nina in Ecstasy “(1985 ) has suggested isolated: You sings of God and his son reinterpreted traditional music and gospel music. After excursions into esoteric spiritualism and Indian mysticism operates the “wonderful unspun Cross Culture-avant-garde space spinner” (Frankfurter Rundschau) since her baptism in the past year increased missionary work for Christ. The program sounds very much like some African-American church service, which does not meet everyone’s taste. “If they now once again ‘Oh Lord’ singing, I start to scream,” an angry young man threatens the beer stand.
So far it does not come. However, after taking half a dozen pieces of noise in the audience during the gospels “Help me” (including Elvis Presley) and “Mean Old World to” significantly. Some are beginning to talk loudly, others begin to blaspheme. This is not only rude to the artist, but also to viewers who want to pursue undisturbed the concert. And after all, to keep the faces goddess of the adjective “shrill clings” like Günther Jauch, the son-in-image between the pieces back to the announcing with their “naive” or friendly circumscribed world view.
The program also includes political songs such as Wolf Biermann’s “Soldier, Soldier” and the country song “All You Fascists Bound to Lose” by Woody Guthrie.Highlights include the rousing, very emotional version of “Hava Nagila”, which could soften the hearts of Hamas leaders, if they for Hebrew understood, Nina Hagen’s moving to music Fontane’s ballad “The tragedy of Afghanistan” and the punky encore number “My Way “with which they reconciled maybe one or two malcontents wanted to hear the old songs from her.
Of course, one would have instead of so many gospel or Blue title rather good personal things like “Erfurt & Gera,” “Animals” and “Sunday Morning” is desired. But even if a few songs by other musicians have been covered better, it prepares every pleasure, her stunning, a huge range comprehensive voice – on the admittedly their cigarette consumption has left its mark to hear -. Especially when they interpreted as the pieces at the concert with a greater seriousness and used her rolling R’s and the little girl’s characteristic style sparingly.
It is evidence not of great professionalism, that she several times to early starts with the singing or constantly read on a teleprompter its text must, but finally it is in spite of all the musical experiments also with 55 still what it always was: a punk.
In March of 1981 I saw a spread in Creem Magazine on an East German punk sensation named Nina Hagen. Her history was compelling enough, but it was her aesthetic that seduced me; she looked like Easter Sunday, Halloween, Valentine’s and St. Patrick’s Day, Christmas morning and New Years’ Eve, all fused together with a deadening jolt of galvanic electricity. From a thorough beating of bleach, dyes and fixatives, her hair — colored a flaming pink — stood on end in sharp sprays, her face was lacquered with a frenzied cosmetic of glitter and greasepaint, and over a neon blue bodysuit and white apron she was fitted with a foot-long black dildo “tail” strapped to her backside — all this from a woman who made a passionate escape from East Germany. The next day after school I rode my bike straight to Tower Records and purchased her only U.S. release to date; a four-song e.p. called The Nina Hagen Band. Later that afternoon, Nina Hagen tweaked my colorless teenage existence positively fluorescent.
She was everything my senses, my spirit and my soul were starving for. Somewhere between her grinding satanic bellow and her soul-piercing soprano I got whipped into a state of trance dancing delirium, she kicked in my doors of perception and struck me deeply in an intensely personal, nearly inexplicable way. The raw, unbridled life in her voice transcended any language barrier. She was pure fireworks, and the rest of my world paled hopelessly by comparison to her. I became absolutely spellbound by this exotic, otherworldly creature and spent a significant percentage of my teen years staring deeply into the pupils of her chestnut brown eyes in the glossy photos from the pages of Creem. My low S.A.T. scores and C-average in high school were testament to the many, many classroom hours I consumed fantasizing about the private, perfect moments we could share together. Dream date scenarios. I took German in high school for the sole reason that I might one day speak to her in her native tongue, and gave encomiastic oral reports on her both in my German and English classes. When I caught word of a rare U.S. concert date, I begged my parents to allow me to take two days off from school, and I took a Greyhound to Hollywood to catch a life-altering show at The Whisky.
Although I managed to graduate High School and lead a reasonably balanced and healthy adult life, I never did quite shake Nina off. I continued to carry my torch; I paid ridiculous prices for her import CDs, dutifully clipped photos from magazines, and never missed a rare Los Angeles performance.
Fast forward to a strange, flukey, fortuitous evening that unfolded in January of ’95 during The American Music Awards at The Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles. I’m occasionally given tickets to big, flashy music award shows, and while they’re invariably forgettable and represent only the lowest common denominator of American music, I get the opportunity to wear all those impractical clothes I buy in anticipation of living a glamorous life. This evening’s show was particularly mediocre — even with Prince’s pyrotechnics display, but I did sit just eight seats away from Linda Thompson, an ex-Hee Haw cast member — my very favorite TV show — which I must admit was really exciting.
As the show concluded, my friend Carol and I made our way from our seats up the jam-packed aisle and into the lobby headed for the party entrance, fraught with security. We stopped for a moment to peruse the crowd pouring through the theater and out onto the sidewalk; the usual sea of tuxedoes, bad beaded dresses, and discernably underdressed rap artists. Just as we began to move on, Carol fixed her gaze just over my shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Woah,” she whispered, “Look at her…”
I turned around and there she was, not more than four feet in front of me. She stood nearly six feet tall in Vivienne Westwood black satin and rhinestone skyscraper platform heels, legs and waist wrapped skin tight in a floorlength black stretch-velvet dress, topped by a black vinyl bullet bra with a hot pink fun-fur chubby draped over her shoulders. Her real hair was concealed under a long, jet-black wig, and she carried a bright lime green backpack over one arm. She was a staggering sight. I nearly fell to the floor.
This was the last event on earth I’d expect to find Nina Hagen. Except for the occasional second look she’d generate from someone who undoubtedly figured she was a drag queen, the crowd moved past her without acknowledgment — clearly unaware of who she was — making their way to the Joey Lawrence worship circle or trying desperately to get a glimpse of Lori Morgan. Much to my delight Nina was absent of an entourage and instead was oddly paired with a nondescript middle-aged man in a business suit. They seemed to be making motions to leave.
Not about to let her slip through my fingers I bolted forward in an effort to make contact. Real time wound itself to hyperspeed. My body temperature dropped at least twenty degrees and everything but Nina evaporated from my field of vision — my breathing was forced and labored in my best effort to maintain a heartbeat. I tried desperately to form intelligible sentences and managed to introduce myself and initiate uneasy and awkward conversation. To my relief, she was pleasingly approachable and unusually friendly.
“So are you going to the party?” I stammered.
“What party?” Nina replied in her lilting German accent.
“There’s an after-show party in the building next door, don’t you have tickets?”
“No, I don’t,” she said — and continued with words that truly twisted my reality — “can I go with you?”
The air around me was suddenly swimming with the little blue sparkley spots I see when I stay in the sunlight too long. She asked if she could go to the party with me. The man she came with said he’d rather skip it, and asked her if she could find a ride home.
“Will you take her home?” He was asking me. After what amounted to less than seven minutes of dialogue, this man, whose name I didn’t even know, was asking me if I, Matt Maranian, could take Nina Hagen, my primary object of worship for the past fourteen years of my life, home. His question was not a difficult one for me to answer, and surprisingly, Nina wasn’t even slightly averse to the idea of being pawned off on a total stranger.
“Trust me,” I told him, “You couldn’t put her in better care.”
“Oh, Good.” the man said, and he left. As simple as that.
So there we were. If the meteoric impact of simply bearing witness to her wasn’t enough I was now thrown into this disorienting set of circumstances, and thrust not only with the responsibility of showing Nina Hagen a good time, but also seeing that she gets home safely. My knees were shaking so hard I had to steady my footing and lock them in place to keep from gyrating across the floor. We stood in pregnant silence. She’s my ward, I kept thinking.
“Let’s step outside for a cigarette,” Nina said.
We moved out to the sidewalk. Tuxedos continued to move out of the theater in droves, valet parking attendants buzzed and jumped, cars passed, and I stood there with Nina Hagen feeling like the nucleus of the universe. We made small talk that I was too awe-struck to follow, and after she finished her cigarette — the filter stained with black lipstick — she tossed the butt to the ground and crushed it under one satin platform heel. I resisted my impulse to dive to the pavement, saving that butt to place under my pillow.
I was ready to explode. I couldn’t let another moment pass without communicating to her how she’s rocked my world, that she hits me hard — and I wanted desperately to reach her just as powerfully.
“Nina, may I speak to you privately for a moment?” “Yes…” she said.
I pulled her over to an empty corner of the sidewalk. I turned to her, and with both hands I grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and looked as deep into the pupils of her eyes as I did into the pictures from the pages of Creem — I think I even freaked her out a little.
“Nina,” I spoke with great conviction, “I must tell you that your music has touched me as profoundly as music can possibly touch a person. Our meeting tonight is not accidental, our paths were meant to cross…” I slowly became aware that I was behaving like an absolute lunatic, but I considered who I was dealing with and threw caution to the wind — I had two feet firmly planted in the moment.
“And you know what,” she added without missing a beat, cracking a knowing smile and dropping the register of her voice at least twelve octaves to her signature, transchannelingesque growl, “It’s gonna get even better…”
This spirited reply to such maniacal gushing — and especially her knowing smile — was some indication that we were operating close to the same wavelength. She got it.
I had stepped into the evening anticipating nothing more than a cheesy show and a free buffet table but now I felt as though I had just come on to a handful of mushroom caps, and it wasn’t until then that it hit me: this is it, this is the dream date, it’s happening now.
As we made our way back into the lobby, some guy Nina knew named Irwin materialized, who wanted to join us. I didn’t mind, he was very quiet and seemed like a nice person, plus he would give my friend Carol someone to talk to because I had all but ditched her. The party was filled to capacity and as Nina took my arm it hit me how perfectly we complimented each other; I too was wearing platform shoes and black vinyl; we were a handsome couple. Like becoming lucid in a dream, I wanted to test the waters. As we maneuvered through the noisy crowd I gently grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to a stop. She turned to me. “Nina” I said, “Let’s OHM!”
Without question or comment she took a deep inhalation. With our eyes slightly closed, together we chanted a loud, resonant “Ooooooooaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm…” Party goers sipped champagne and nibbled hors d’oeuvres trying not to look our way.
“Ooooooooooaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmm…” We chanted again-it was starting to kick in.
“Ooooooooooaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmm…” A third and final time.
“Namaste,” Nina said to me, putting her palms together and bowing her head. “Namaste,” I said, and bowed back.
I got Nina a drink and we found an empty cocktail table just on the edge of the dance floor. I failed to impress her with my German and was having great difficulty just managing with English, but I did calm myself enough to engage in a lengthy chat. We got pleasantly toasted on vodka, and took drags off the same cigarette just like we were in junior high. (I don’t smoke, but such an intimate act as the sharing of a single cigarette was an experience I couldn’t possibly resist.)
There was a band on stage doing ’50s and ’60s covers fit for a wedding reception and no one was dancing. I asked Nina if she’d like to dance, and in a moment straight from the pages of Cinderella she gave me her hand and I led her to the center of what seemed like acres of empty space — I was standing in the middle of an empty dance floor with Nina Hagen as hundreds looked on. Then something took us over. Nina and I started moving in a free-form, Isadora Duncanish sort of way, a style completely inappropriate for the doo-wop tunes being performed from the stage. Flailing our arms and squatting to the floor, we twisted and dipped — looking square into each others eyes — and, when I stopped to think about it, making absolute fools of ourselves. But I didn’t care who was staring and I didn’t care what anyone thought, I was seizing this moment for all it was worth.
When the bandleader asked for couples to jump on stage and “shake their thang,” Nina pulled me right up there with her and we watusied ourselves into another dimension. As the sax player started in on a wild solo, Nina spontaneously grabbed the mike and began wailing to a perplexed audience as band members looked curious and annoyed.
Unfortunately, as Nina quickly discovered, the mike was dead — killing the drama of her impromptu performance. Red-faced, Nina and I jumped off the stage — wobbling on our platform shoes — and ran to our chairs giggling like teenagers. Being publicly humiliated on a stage before a crowd of hundreds somehow brings two people closer together.
We slow-danced too. And as my hands rested on the velvet wrapped around her tight, narrow waist, I looked to the ceiling, I closed my eyes — stifling my screams — and again and again in my head I repeated I’m slow dancing with Nina Hagen — I can’t believe this is happening…
Just as I was about to leave my body I was jerked back to earth by the instruction from the bandleader on stage. “Now, I want everyone to hold your partner very close…” he said. Nina and I moved closer.
“…and I want you to pucker your lips…” I swallowed my heart. Nina lowered her eyelids and gently pouted her full mouth.
“…and kiss your partner on the cheek.” I kissed her cheek, and she, mine — and she kissed me again on the other side, unprompted.
After our last dance I escorted Nina to the ladies room and I reveled in the series of fantastical events that had taken place over the past few hours. I needed to splash my face with icewater. Nina returned, the party began to wind down, and it was now close to midnight. The slow dances, the drinks, the chit chat and the cigarettes all came to a close. Her friend Irwin ended up driving her home, and it was imperative that I sit down in a quiet place. I had no idea how exhausting a dream date could be.
We hugged goodbye and kissed each other again on the cheek, and agreed that we’d stay in touch. Nina gave me the number of where she was staying, “Call me! Before noon is best!” And Carol and I headed for my car.
I did call. And we spoke once or twice. A couple of times I came home to the most thrilling messages I’ve ever received on my answering machine. But Nina is off and about and never stays in any one place for long. Soon after she left for Paris I think, or Spain, to finish her record. I, too, had a life to get back to and the whole experience all became very “Purple Rose of Cairo.”
In spite of her knowing smile, I’m sure Nina had no idea what that night really meant to me. I replay the scenes over and over in my head, still slightly incredulous that fate delivered Nina Hagen into my life for a whole evening, all to myself. I got my dream date!
Focus.de has a short interview with Nina about her new album.
“Ich beame Liebe” - focus.de (Jul 10)
Link / English / View PDF
English translation via Google:
“I Beam Love”
Thursday, 07.29.2010, 10:36 AM • from FOCUS-Online-author Katja Schwemmer
Gospel Diva instead Punk icon? On their new album “Personal Jesus” presents Nina Hagen in classic sacred garment. In the interview reveals the flashy singer, why she now lives chaste.
This woman is always good for surprises: “I can not sing a gospel, I’ma white chick,” was Nina Hagen once in their hit “Hold Me”. 20 years later published the now 55 years old “Mother of Punk”, more than ever, religious inspiration, a whole album full of gospel songs. On “Personal Jesus” she interprets classic respectful of Elvis Presley and Depeche Mode and boarded the album charts at # prompt 16 – their highest placing since 1979.
FOCUS Online: wife, Hagen now mutate from punk to gospel diva?
Nina Hagen: Yes. For, firstly I’m no diva. And secondly, I’m in my 17th Age by a near-death experience to become a professing Christian – just wanted to hear none! I have also already the Lord’s Prayer set to music in a sword dance version. At the “Rock in Rio” I’ve sailed on a large metal cross on the stage and sang “Spirit In The Sky” by Norman Greenbaum. On my old plates you will find many gospel songs. Add to “Hold Me” in 1989 we shot my first gospel video at the grave of Jim Morrison at Paris’ Pere Lachaise cemetery.
FOCUS Online: In those days you lived in Paris.
Hagen: I was pregnant with my son Otis. And I am often passed by taxi to the cemetery because Cosma near there at school. And I always did it hurt the back, as if I had gotten a volley shots. For 1872 the Communards were shot right there on the left back. The Paris communities have always fascinated me, since I already saw the play “The Days of the Commune” by Berthold Brecht, the Berliner Ensemble. That was an interesting time, when the workers were in the artist district of Montmartre, a municipality create grassroots self-sufficiency.
FOCUS Online: When you came for the first time the idea for a gospel album?
Hagen: I have 1981 on my first English album “Nunsexmonkrock” nuns and monks discussed already. At that time I had read a book on crime in the 16th Century in the Catholic Church are going on. There was a monastery full of men and one full of women. They have built a tunnel, there are really hard hit and loved him. Then the nuns have become pregnant, there have their children brought to the world, they then murdered and verbuddelt. It was a crazy collection of baby bones. When I read, I had been thinking of making a pure gospel album. Also because I had this near-death experience where I was no longer the same as my earthly body. I had taken LSD, had died and had an encounter with God. That was the most dramatic experience of my life completely.
FOCUS Online: Was that a good feel or do we all fear us?
Hagen: No, we need not fear at all, but we all have to deal with the word of God and Jesus Christ! This is my big tip. Build a relationship with God on! Because we’re drawn by a loving father to us is not based only briefly in such a material world where we are born through pain, but when we are done here with the human life on earth, then it goes on for us. We will have a so-called heavenly bodies. And will be even more energetic and dynamic as our earthly. And he is already created so wonderful.
“I pray for George Bush”
FOCUS Online: Nina Hagen and more cosmic energy – that would make me really scared now!
Hagen: No, in heaven there is no fear. All the angels have power, or else the fly did not know. And there, in heaven and music is made. This is a very peaceful world, just as beautiful as Planet Earth, perhaps even more beautiful because there is no suffering and no more deaths.
FOCUS Online: Why They depict your death experience now? Kamen because too many aliens and UFOs in between?
Hagen: I have near-death experience in my first book “I am a Berliner” below that. And I have only had one experience with a UFO. That was in 1981 when I was pregnant for the fourth month. And this experience I have honestly so says, as it was. And then I have also spoken with many other people who like what has happened, but in a negative sense. Are against their will into something forced that they would not. This is nothing divine. God would never force to something, he gave us free will. He wants the same quality build with us a relationship. Our Creator is not a fascist. On the contrary.
Confessing Punk, believing Christian dpa
FOCUS Online: Where the time for the church is not favorable even – after the recent scandals.
Hagen: I think it is now cheap because we renew. We humans have yet to take care of creation, and protecting them. It is run out there about so many pseudo-Christians, such as this, George Bush, who has never done only un-Christian things. I pray for him. I pray for all who want to subvert the good. But coming so close before. Which will only hurt yourself while. Because God’s justice will one day when we have no more earthly body, shine upon us. And then all those who have broken with intent and malice of mankind in the nuclear holocaust, be quite the stroke.
FOCUS Online: And now you want to convert to Christianity through the music?
Hagen: I say to you is: Read the Bible! My favorite Bible is a transfer of the New Testament by Fred Ritzhaupt. It is called “Welcome home” and in a very poetic language written. Sometimes, the ancient language is not understandable for us. But in this interpretation, the Bible even touch brand new heart and delight the mind.
FOCUS Online: How do you practice your faith?
Hagen: I am a Protestant, grassroots community. We have no pope, no ruler, we kiss the hand or the ring. We are well aware that if a person too much power in the hand is, he can abuse very well. This is when people somehow Sun Therefore, all together, and distribute nice democratically their tasks. That makes so much fun! I see nothing in my community.
FOCUS Online: And since you are found regularly?
Hagen: Yes, I go out as often as I can. But it is in Schüttorf, and I’m finally on the road in the world. But this is my home town, and I am there in the gospel choir. We organized a New Year’s concert. With very many children, who also sang strongly.
Love relationship with Jesus
FOCUS Online: Are you an inspiration for the children?
Hagen: No, the children inspire me! We humans live on it, we are the products of our inspiration. And what other people have given us to love and truth. If I had not had my Catholic aunts in childhood, I would have never found to Christianity. For by my Catholic mussel, which has prayed with me and for me, I have only ever experienced, how well does the praying. I even made a God-Test.
has “Personal Jesus” found their AP
FOCUS Online: How does such a God test?
Hagen: Well, I’m so blasphemed God so poor and my Catholic aunt almost driven mad because I wanted to have a sign from God! But God can not be put to the test. I have certainly felt the very next day I broke my leg. I woke up in hospital after surgery, and then my broken leg was hanging in the air in the device. And I thought only God there is!
FOCUS Online: And so you now have a gospel album recorded?
Hagen: It was a Riesenherzenswunsch from me! I wanted runtertauchen to the roots, as deep-sea fish in the bottomless treasure trove of American music rummage. The black slaves in America before secretly listened to the church doors and windows, when the whites have inside heard the Gospel. Then the slaves went to the cotton fields, singing to each other while working against the Gospel. So this music was created. Gospel is simply the most powerful way to preach the gospel, because the songs make it as a really bold courage and give new vitality! It should belong to any repertoire of folk singer.
FOCUS Online: What has helped you, then, in the studio so intensely to be able to interpret the Gospel?
Hagen: I love God. And I’m in a relationship with Jesus. And with the song “Personal Jesus” I felt him very close. Or in “God’s Radar” – because God has made me always on his radar screen. Each of us. Jesus has indeed brought us the good news that every person is God’s beloved child, not just some selected nations. In that sense, I also love the song “Down At The Cross”. The piece also shows how the whites have zurückbedient by the blacks and made it in country gospel music. It developed various styles of music: Gospel, Blues, Gospel, Soul, Gospel radio à la Al Green. From the Urgospel indeed the whole popular music genres: from rock ‘n’ roll come to Fusion.
FOCUS Online: You also say “Jesus rocks the world!
Hagen: Yes, sure, he’s Jesus Christ Superstar. He is the first true rock star! Jesus is also the tower of strength, “the rock” on which one can hold on to.
FOCUS Online: What is the biggest misconception about you?
Hagen: That I do not know. But this world I will probably be misunderstood until the peace is there, respect all people and love each other.
FOCUS Online: Michael Jackson was often misunderstood.
Hagen: The whole time was also loved, but he has unfortunately failed to seek help really. I have recently seen in a TV documentary that he was often slipped phone numbers and addresses of fans, but all of which he has always thrown away – and I think that was a huge mistake. Since then he has had at some point the wrong advisers and people around him.
Forgetting Sarah
FOCUS Online: How to protect yourself from it?
Hagen: Well, through Jesus, by God! I am protected by my church and my faith. Moreover, Jesus has given us yet even explains how to do it with the love of enemies. The works on the zerlieben motto, zerlieben, zerlieben! Even if someone hates you, or attacking – then we simply beaming love! We beamed friendship. We beam peacefulness.
FOCUS Online: Is it true that you never want to have sex?
Hagen: I’m already very long in the celibate – as a nun. For me it was a horror when I arrived after a long time in America to Germany and suddenly in the middle of the night advertising with over 50-year-old women see the naked behave and say: Call me! Why do you people with so volldröhnen a venal, disrespectful, degrading stuff? I am also hurt in the name of love that people let off for money so terribly sad things. Such things should only be sent encrypted. Sex and love are still sacred and private matter. And the voluntary celibacy is something very, very nice!
FOCUS Online: Have you no more vices?
Hagen: Yes, smoking for example. But God would not like if I did not respect myself and let myself would prefer filling up with alcohol and drunk by the clubs. God would not like it if I were a bad example to the people and in my mature years, still running around with gigolos.
FOCUS Online: Are you active on the Internet?
Hagen: I use the Internet to work as a political activist to promote my work for peace. That to me is very important. Why there is the internet then?
FOCUS Online: What do you want from politics?
Hagen: That we are a bit more of Switzerland Sprachreise of referendums and it is more. We the people want, not only on the ballot paper machine to operate, but also in life, in the basis of democracy. But the democracy we live it properly! That the managers are afraid of us, we are afraid of those with anxiety but does nothing. We need honesty, transparency and good will – why are we men?
FOCUS Online: What do you want from society?
Hagen: I think it’s important with dying and sick people to maintain contact. I see the Elizabeth Hospice are also quite often a school class, which performed there all day community service. They sing in the choir really great songs, drinking coffee with the patients, massaging their feet and hands. I think it would be great if children and young people and all people would have no fear of contact with sick and dying. I hope for our society really hard.
FOCUS Online: Are you really a friend and replace it with Nena, perhaps even about spirituality?
Hagen: No, privately we know each other not so good. Otherwise, I would warn against this fact can “Damanhur” sect in Italy, which has Nena times. I have read some reports on the Internet by dropouts of the sect – that’s all pretty kontrollfreakmäßig. And there is no Jesus.