Marion Maerz was possibly Germany's coolest pop star for a while in 1965, a reputation earned largely from her rather downcast hit "Er ist Weider Da" (released at a time when German pop songs were uniformly cheery). Unfortunately, she was never able to repeat her initial success and gradually faded from being a chart presence. In 1971, she attempted to reinvent herself with an album of German-language interpretations of Burt Bacharach hits. No one noticed and Marion’s second (and final) slide into obscurity began. In the ensuing four decades, this album has become a sought-after collector's item and is regarded as something of a masterpiece (according to the label, anyway).
Maerz has had quite an unusual career. She got her "big break" while attending secretarial school. She was singing at a cassette manufacturer’s booth at an exhibition and got invited to participate in a talent contest organized by Pepsi-Cola (I like to imagine that Karlheinz Stockhausen started exactly the same way). She didn’t win, but her performance earned her a contract with Polydor. Sadly, her first two singles failed to chart and she was quickly dropped.
However, shortly after this setback, a chance meeting at a recording studio resulted in the release of the aforementioned "Er Ist Weider Da". During the brief but intense fame that ensued, she became the first German female ever to appear on the pop music television show Beat-Club and none other than Paul McCartney was rumored to be a big fan of the single's B-side ("Blau Blau Blau"). She even recorded a song written for her by the Kinks' Ray Davies. Unfortunately, all that was soon followed by several years of waning popularity, frustration with her material, and mounting disillusionment.
Released nearly six years after her peak, this album was intended to resuscitate her career. On paper, it seemed like a good idea. Maerz’s producer even managed to enlist a famous jazz organist (Ingfried Hoffmann) to do the arranging. Hoffmann clearly put a lot of effort into the project, as the album is chock full of string accompaniments and horn flourishes, but he played it a bit too safe at a time when the naïve pop of the sixties was well past moribund.
There is very little stylistic variation evident here: every song was aimed straight for the charts and, correspondingly, all adhere to a strict bubblegum pop formula and feature very slick studio musicians and absolutely no surprises. However, the material is quite strong (it is Bacharach) and Marion was a charismatic and spunky little minx (kind of like a German Nancy Sinatra). I especially liked "Close To You," "I Say A Little Prayer," and "All Kinds Of People." Of course, all of the songs on this album will be recognizable to anyone with ears, given Bacharach’s pervasiveness.
However, when Maerz attempts emotional heft, such as in the climaxes of "Anyone Who Had A Heart" and "A House Is Not A Home," she can be squirm-inducingly melodramatic. Whether that is a problem or not is largely dependent on the listener’s mindset. I found myself grimacing, but they have quite a bit of camp value. If I were singing into a hairbrush in front of my mirror, I would probably skip right to those.
Frankly speaking, this is not a musical masterpiece. Sorry, Bureau B. However, it is quite fun and kitschy and definitely deserves a new life. This album’s downfall was solely due to its incredibly terrible timing. In the six years that elapsed since "Er Ist Weider Da," a seismic shift in teenage musical taste had taken place and she was now competing with Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, and the Beatles at their creative height. Marion, unfortunately for her career, had stayed the same.
samples:
- Close To You (So Wie Ich)
- I Say A Little Prayer (Ich Wunsche Mir So Viel Von Dir)
- All Kinds Of People (Auf Dieser Erde)
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