Lene Lovich
Stateless

THE REVIEW

Possible definitions for Lili-Marlene Premilovich, born in 1949: singer, saxophonist, author, actress, screamer, dancer, avant-garde performer, cabaret artist, fashion icon, visual arts fanatic, experimental musician, master and witch of the voice, New-Wave MUSE... and who knows how many more, if one insists on forcing imagination to further (but really useful...?) efforts.

Such effort is for nothing, actually – because none of the aforementioned definitions suit the unique persona of this Serbo-American genius, nor those still imaginable. ONE definition can capture at most one aspect, (guiltily) remaining silent about the thousand others. And so something will be needed to summarize them all: GENIUS, precisely... but even this does not fully satisfy me; and so I will say that Her Art resembles a bridge: a bridge thrown to cover the long distance that separates the vocal revolution of the New Wave godmother Patti Smith from Kate Bush. In other words – the explosive vocal revolution of the New Wave godmother on one side, and on the other the Art-Rock conceived as a territory of research and synthesis, divine (and shocking) use of the singing medium and free exploitation of the classic song structure.

But there is still a missing piece regarding the connections with the nightingale of Kent: the Kate Bush to whom Lene's music is closer is absolutely not the one of "Wuthering Heights". It’s the one of "The Wedding List", at most – and we understand each other – in '78 not yet known, moreover. Or perhaps the one (but we move even further) of "Sat In Your Lap". And above all: Lene Lovich developed her identity WELL BEFORE Kate Bush.

Lene-barred eyes and terrifying gaze, long braids and clothes borrowed from Slavic folklore didn’t begin with "Stateless". Before the debut, there is a long history of art studies and intense exoticism mania, distinguished acquaintances including Salvador Dalí, a stint as a songwriter for the disco star Cerrone, and a funk experience (behind the scenes of the mainstream) with the Diversions. A story spent mostly in the shadows, but also a story of continuous self-improvement. Finally, the opportunity of a lifetime: the boss of Stiff Records, Dave Robinson, is presented with "I Think We're Alone Now", a cover of an old piece by Tommy James & The Shondells (those of "Crimson And Clover").

It’s the spark from which the fire blazes.

"Stateless", indeed – "stateless", "without a homeland". And how can one establish the artistic homeland of such a Woman, who from decadent-Central European inspirations (Berlin reigns, in those years) incorporates into her idea of Pop sixties Beat chart memories, typically-Wave rhythms worthy of the B-52's or the more danceable Devo, space keyboards, small organs and vague psychedelic memories, cosmo-kitsch effects and latent cabaret infatuations and soundtracks of Teutonic memory? In fact, it’s impossible. And always maintaining that commercial appeal that will make "Lucky Number" (with its historical music video) the TRULY lucky number of an entire career.

Before appearing alongside Nina Hagen in that underground manifesto which is "Cha Cha", Lene assembles this absolute masterpiece of Pop eccentricity: the dark/horror organ elements of "Home" and the sweetness of "Too Tender", here are the two extremes of a path in which everything a singer can experiment is experimented. And with the complicity of guitarist and multi-instrumentalist Les Chappell, fantasies like the psycho/western "Sleeping Beauty", the piano wonder of "Say When", the reggae-dance flirt of "Writing On The Wall" (featuring Lene’s own sax), the melodies of "Telepathy" and "Momentary Breakdown" come one after the other, becoming irresistible as soon as you’ve given them a listen; and they do not tire despite the dense inventory of ideas and instrumental/electronic tricks laid out in the production phase (here and there, electric pianos and drum machine shots à la Visage and Human League, but on an infinitely richer tapestry of colors). And a masterful "Tonight" by Nick Lowe, the very essence of the "beat crazy" of those unrepeatable years.

Sensuality, horror, witchcraft, sweetness, histrionics, feeling worthy of a 1930s nightclub chanteuse: nothing is missing.

And after just adding that the cover you see is that (kindly suggested to me by the database) of the expanded edition on CD, I can also say goodbye...