The year Nina Hagen scared the shit out of my little sister, I was 23 and sis was 20.
I had maladjusted to life in the big city after moving from a small dirt patch and my most sheltered sister was visiting for the summer.
To liven up her visit, I bought tickets to Nina Hagen's show at the Concert Hall.
Nina, 32, burst ferociously onto the stage in a wedding veil proclaiming herself the mother of punk (so what the funk) and making sure we all knew she was serious about marrying her 18 year old punky boyfriend.
She invited us all to Ibiza to party with her. We didn't end up going but we did stick around for the show.
Nina had her big big blonde hair on, crazy make up and she just threw herself into performing for the crowd. It was a loud but short show clocking in at just over an hour. I guess she was anxious to get back to her young punk and press some more records.
Ms. Hagen fired off great versions of some of her hits like Russian Reggae, New York, My Way, Ekstasy and a solo version of Don't Kill The Animals, a song she'd recorded with Lene Lovich.
Sis looked mildly terrified for the first couple of songs, uncomfortable for a few and then bemused by the whole thing. Afterward, she said that she found the whole thing weird and that it was a bit extreme. What would the point have been if Nina hadn't been a bit extreme?
I did take it easier on her for the next few shows. Eurythmics, The Cure and Peter Gabriel.
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