Right next to Poland. No more than fifty kilometres south of the Baltic. If anyone had told me I would some day be in this dull little village of the former German Democratic Republic, Schwedt... well, no one ever did tell me I would, but the fact remains that here I was in Schwedt. To see Alphaville in concert. Eleven years of unvarying loyalty to their music, and then this tiring joumey to the end of the world. We left Berlin at 16:10 (not 15:52 as planned, so much for the myth of German punctuality) and reached Schwedt at 17:34. Waiting, concert, perhaps a little chat with Alphaville, a few hours’ sleep, the train back to Berlin, and then, finally, the train to Italy - an eighteen-hour joumey to get back to Turin. But it's worth it for Alphaville, right?

The station in Schwedt could be straight out of a small town in some Western: silent, solitary. No taxi, no bus. Instead, just four or five people who speak no language except Schwedtian (Schwedtese?) and who all seem to be employees of the station. So? So, my friend Raffaela and I look for the station master, presuming there is one and that we'll be able to communicate, using pseudoenglish, pseudogerman or pseudo something-more-or-less-comprehensible. We go to the only open gate of the station, approach two women chatting to each other, in the weak hope that they, too, might be going to the concert? The two women tum towards us. Yes, they are here for the concert, but they aren't fans. "Marion!" Small, slim and clad in black from head to foot, Marion¹ is a girl with long, copper-coloured hair and grey eyes. Not pretty. But her strong personality makes her compulsively likeable. Marion recognises me, greets me. The other woman, naturalmente, is Karin²: quite tall, sporty, with calm, soft eyes behind her glasses. We exchange various polite greetings, and a taxi magically materialises in front of us.Well, weren't Raffa and I lucky to have met them, and not just for the pleasure of talking to them?... Marion in front, Karin and the pair of us crammed into the back. During the joumey, we talk about Karin's daughter. She is so open to the world, says her mother, so happy she's Iike that, better to have a lively child than a quiet one with no curiosity, she'll have a strong personality. I have no opinion on the subject, since I don't know Luisa, but I do know one thing: she is fortunate to have a mother like Karin. Gentle, seemingly fragile, yet so strong.

We have reached the "Neue Zeit“ Sporthalle (a multi-purpose gymnasium, in fact), and it is six o'clock. Karin and Marion, apologising as if Raffa and I were two officials on state visit, leave us (they have to work, after all), and we settle in front of the main entrance. The doors are still shut, and won’t open before half past seven. For the moment, there are only five fans waiting: fours girls and one boy. We exchange a few words in approximate English (compared to theirs, mine sounds like pure Oxford English, but these are East-Germans, who had to learn Russian in school). Who are they where do they come from and all the basics of people who have never met before. We do learn one thing, though: Bernd and Ricky aren't going to be there. Aren't going to be there? No, they aren't, the show is just Marian with a stage band. Why? Who knows? I'm not so bothered by this news. True, Alphaville is a trio, and we all know their music owes more to Bernd and Ricky than to Marian, and anyway they should all be there, if only for a good "image", since they're a trio. But then Bernd and Ricky are better composers than musicians, and their presence might be superfluous, Alphaville have always been an open project (as in the Nelson³ days), and what counts in a live show is Marian's voice... and speaking of Marian: as we try to keep up a laborious conversation with the Germans, Marian and the others (no time to see who) make a fleeting appearance behind the glass doors. They spring out from nowhere, walk down the steps, return into nothingness. Marian has little hair and too much weight. A brief, timid little smile rises to his lips, …as he walks by us. Maybe he is nervous.

Half-past seven draws gradually nearer with the unbearable slowness of any wait. A little trip to a hotel to get a room and freshen up, more tiring conversations with the Germans, some old hag's observations on the girls that arrive: for instance a kid with saffron-coloured hair, shorts (very, very short ones) and a tight little T-shirt and a bust like a Miss Wet-T-shirt competitor. Is she hoping to pick up Marian? maybe. Half-past seven, at last. And this time, the punctuality is all German: the doors open. No pushing, please. Good Prussians that they are, they all line up one by one, or perhaps two, and patiently wait for their turn. When in Rome, do as the Romans do... Raffa and I adapt to the local custom, get into the queue, enter the gymnasium without hurrying up to the stage as if we were chased by wild buffalo.

Anyway, since we were among the first and no one here would dare take our place, we do end up just in front of the stage. To be precise, I'm right in front of the central microphone. If it is Marian's, as I suspect, my nose will be just about level with his knees. Again, the hours slow down to the pace of an Antonioni film, but with far less significance. A glass of beer (not that the beer is insignificant, in fact it's quite good), more small talk in pseudoenglish, a message frorn Karin that I'm not to leave straight after the show (Marian and Co are spending a hit of time here, so I'll be able to have a little chat with them). And finally, the last minute, feverish (quite literally, too, with the heat, I seem to be losing not only a lot of sweat, but probably some extra weight as well) everyone watching the technicians as they test the instruments and microphones - couldn't they do this earlier? Another block off the German myth - and everyone waiting for the lights to go down.

At last, down they come. Camera at the ready, one eye in the visor and the other on the stage (a surprising ocular phenomenon, I know), to keep track of where they are. I must admit that I'm not feeling very emotional. I haven't been all day, in fact. Perhaps because until I am actually "in" an event, I can't really believe it is going to happen. Perhaps because I have a cold character, and I am too old to got overexcited. Perhaps because Alex (not my colleague Alessandra Bertaggia, sex: masculine, nationality: Italian, characteristic: adorable) usually comes between me and the outside world. Anyway, I am calm. Good on me, at least I'll be able to enjoy the concert fully.

Finally, here is the band. people I've never seen before. No Hansi Behrendt⁴ at the drums no Rudi Nielson⁵ on guitar. Instead, there are four fellows who prove themselves to be great musicians during the show, the sort that can probably count hours and hours of stage experience just as pilots count their hours of flight: blonde David on guitar, tall Alex on bass, rotund Robbie on drums, strong Martin on keyboards. And then, there's Marian. His hair styled in a crew-cut speckled with grey, not really fat, but not slim, he is wearing a blue basketball tanktop, an open military shirt, a pair of Levi's and trainers. My heart stays still when I see him. I notice he looks his forty years, that with age, his eyes have grown smaller and deeper, and his physical attraction is fading. When I think of how he was a few years ago eyes that bore right into you like X-rays, a disquieting face that changed with each compression. And now, Marian looks like an ageing puppy, his intelligent eyes looking out below his clear forehead, the flesh on his arms beginning to sag. Never mind, I'm happy to see him, and to see him like this, without any earth-moving emotions: I’m in love with someone else, I've seen Marian last year and I've got past the what-if I-meet-him-and-I-am-disappointed stage.

Well, now it isn't so important to know why and how come. I'm happy and that's enough. What counts is that I should enjoy the concert fully, without any sentimental distractions. So, the concert a plain stage in a gymnasium that can hold no more than 2000 people, a simple band. No smoke, no special effects, nothing spectacular. Just a man that gives his songs and kids that retum the gift by clapping and enjoying their presence there, listening to his songs. A basic concert, as it were. True, Alphaville cannot put on a Michael Jackson megashow, even if they wanted to, but I don't think they are interested in this kind of spectacular concert. I'd rather think that they are interested in the essence of a concert, not the superfluous. They give the audience their own emotions through the music, to create a little world where social, cultural and even physical differences don't count.

The first song Marian sings is Fools. It is well sung, in a version similar to that on the album. I sing, I move to the music, the others are far more cold. Well, this is a pop concert, even if we aren't in an auditorium... but there, these are Prussians. They have come to listen to some music, not put on a show of their own. And although, song after song, they warm up a bit and hands reach up, voices follow Marian's, some will continue to look at Raffa and me, dancing and singing, as if we were from another planet. But Marian, too, is from another planet (not mine, of course, I am not that fortunate!). He too needs cime to warm up, but he gradually changes. He who is so timid, and cannot dance, and has no expecience of live shows, he turns into a stage animal. He talks to the audience, makes fun because he can remember neither the sequence nor the words of his songs (we all know that, dear Marian, you even make mistakes when singing in playback...), he is a true performer, able to communicate meaning not only with his voice, but also with his movements and the expression of his face.

After Fools, it is A Victory of Love. I did not expect such a difficult story, but I'm happy to hear it, and Marian doesn't disappoint me. He sings it a bit lower, but very well, and I also enjoy the new, harder arrangement. This song is the first real emotion of the evening. Third song, Ascencion Day: a rather long introduction and a bit different from the usual one, which makes me unsure of the song that they are starting. And then, red light, hard guitars, and Marian's excellent singing... excellent now, because, as I am to discover later, the technical problems that made his singing merely good on the first two songs, have now been solved. ("I couldn't hear my own voice" he'll tell me later: well, I could hear his voice perfectly well and there didn't seem to be any problem.) The next song is One Step Behind You: a techno version appropriate to this song and most of all a beautiful performance by Marian. At the beginning, he turns his back on us, raising one arm, and then the other, moving continuously as if, in rhythm with the music, he wanted to punch out at the air around him. He puts great strength in these movements, and it nearly seems as though the beat were coming from his tense muscles. Pure strength, both in the artist and his music.

And here is my favourite song, the one our fanclub is named after, Euphoria. The introduction is enchanting: David plays his guitar solo, and although his performance faithfully follows the album version, it is slightly different his instrument seems to be a voice, instead of making sounds. A voice that speaks, with all the inflexions, the nuances and the sentiments of a voice. So moving that I have not even noticed, that Marian takes advantage of this moment to go off stage and take off his shirt. When he retunrs, the enchantment remains. Immobile behind his microphone, staring above the crowd, arms moving slowly and carefully, Marian the actor enacts the dark madness of a mind. The chorus, repeated time after time, is the sun shining through the clouds and driving them away. Second, deep emotion of the evening. No time to recover as Feathers and Tar starts up next, a new song from Marian's second solo album. He kneels down, and sings all this soft, poignant love song in this position, as his voice gently repeats "I'm on my knees" over and over again. His voice is very high, like on Oh Patti, and the music is a ballad, very sweet, without the emphasis of The Impossible Dream. The atmosphere created by the voice and the music together is very, very romantic - not in a sentimental sense, but because it communicated melancholy, sadness, sensual.

Third emotion, Lassie Come Home starts without the long instrumental introduction we are used to, and Marian begins to sing after only a few chords, higher than usual. Then he forgets a few words (really!), but patience: he is embarrassed enough to be forgiven, the band is clever enough to follow him as he improvises, and the new arrangement is beautiful enough to make anyone forget the words. Also, after the slow beginning, the song grows faster, becoming nearly a rock number at the end, where the hard guitar, replacing the keyboard arrangement, is particulary appropriate. I had expected Faith to be a good live act, because of its reggae rhythm. But I did not expect it to be such a wonderful live act. Marian sings it perfectly, and the finale is splendid like Bob Marley, Marian starts to sing "Everything 's gonna be alright", encouraging the audience to do the same. Some of the Prussians follow him, others don't, but the feeling is still very good. At the end of the song, my pessimistic nature doesn’t believe that that "everything's gonna be alright", but a bit of optimism penetrates me, along with the fourth emotion of the evening.

Time for Sounds Like A Melody. According to Emma the main characteristic of this new version is the reggae rhythm. And indeed, watching the concert on video, I have also noticed this rhythm, but on the night, other aspects struck me. What I have always liked in this song (the one that made me into an Alphamaniac), is the mixture of electronic and classical music. When played live, Sounds is a lot harder, not as sophisticated, weighed down by the accoustic sounds that change its nature, I would say. Listening to it again now, I don't mind it so much, but at the time, I wasn't very taken. Peace on Earth is my least favourite song on So long Celeste, but live, I have to admit it is terrific. Plenty of guitar, rhythm, a text that lets Marian play out of his favourites roles, that of a drunk (...), and some the hardiest of the Prussians let themselves go a bit and shout "Peace on Earth, God in Heaven"!

A techno version of And I Wonder. If you've heard the version on History⁶, you can imagine what it sounds like live. What can I say? By this time, the audience, the band and the singer are all well warmed up, the show is getting better every minute, and a danceable and biting song like this one just adds to the general overheating, even if it wasn't the most exciting song that evening. Another novelty, again taken from Marian's new album: For the Sake of Love. I think it is best described it as a "hammering" song. Fast, danceable, one of the songs that just penetrates your stomach, so that you can't possibly stand still. Marian sings the fast, verbose verses with Martin, pretending to be surprised and bothered by the keyboard-player's interventions. The lyrics (that Marian obviously doesn’t remember) are entirely based on a rapid succession of lines beginning with "I forgive...“. These two words are the key to the whole song, played on three chords (one high, one low, one in between), the sort of tune doesn’t forget.

All that was needed now was that sacred hymn, the song that everyone sings, the one that would make the spectators rise to their feet, that, it would make even the Prussians hold hands: Forever Young, of course. Few changes compared to the original, but that doesn't really matter. Forever Young is one of those songs which will still be remembered in twenty years' time, even by those who are not Alphamaniacs, and it is so perfect that changing the arrangement could add nothing to it. A wonderful song, an extraordinary voice, kids holding hands and, magically, everyone feels friendly, even towards those they don't know. The good that music can do, and my fifth emotion. And after this, a typical concert finish: waving and blowing kisses, the band goes off. Of course, no one believes the show is really finished, but pretending is a part of the game, and everyone, except Raffa and me, start to chant something I do not understand, but which must mean "Come back" or something⁷.

And the band does come back, to sing Ivory Tower. The introduction is so different from the original that I only recognise the song when Marian begins to sing. This arrangement is a bit faster, and this increases the anguish that was already present in the album version. Marian's singing is good, but not excellent. He is possibly tired, after fourteen songs. I am beginning to get worried: could there possibly be an Alphaville concert without the biggest success of all, Big in Japan ? Of course not. The original arrangements are gone, the keyboard’s role is reduced to a secondary role and it has turned into a nearly rocking number. Those who have heard History will know that this song can be very hard, and I think it has all to gain from this, and although the History versions my favourite, this one is also very good. If I were to ask you all, which song would be best to end a concert, I'm pretty sure you would answer Apollo.

Et voilà, to end in style, Marian sings Apollo. Despite a mistake at the beginning, he holds on despite his tiredness, and finds not only the strength, but also the enthusiasm to give us a beautiful conclusion to our evening. The song is very similar to the version we are used to, the main difference being in the lyrics, since Marian sings "back to you" instead of "back home", and points to the audience. The concert closes on this promise, the promise that we will meet again some day. The band takes a bow in the midst of the applause, and this time they do not return. The lights come back on again, the gymnasium empties rapidly. All that remains are the technicians, the group of Germans, someother fans, Raffa and myself. And now time for the party with Marian and Co... but no, before we go up to the room Karin indicated, we need to recover a bit. We can't go and see them in this state, sweating and red in the face, looking our worst. We wait a few minutes, and then we all climb up to the fateful room.
 
 
 

Continued with Part Two...