It’s the eightieth anniversary of Klabund’s death, a very timely 
                moment to release this, a fascinating portrait of one of the driving 
                forces for German Cabaret music during its heyday.  Edel, in conjunction 
                with the Akademie der Künst, has been releasing listenable portraits 
                of Cabaret greats for some ten years now with their series ‘The 
                Listening Room’. These are two-disc surveys of vintage recordings 
                of the likes of Friedrich Hollaender, Werner Richard Heymann and 
                Rudolf Nelson, all painstakingly cleaned up, with extensive liner-notes 
                - albeit with abbreviated English translations.  
              
Klabund, born Alfred 
                  Henschke, never enjoyed good health in his adolescent and adult 
                  years, and tuberculosis claimed him at an early age.  He ceased 
                  his studies to take up the role of peregrinating poet, taking 
                  up his pseudonym as a combination of Klabautermann, the 
                  traditional gremlin that was known to plague mines and ships, 
                  and Vagabond  His poetry turned from the lofty topics 
                  that some ivory-tower types busied themselves with and chose 
                  instead to focus on everyday life.  He wanted, as he said to 
                  “be in the ‘it’ of things.” In the meadowland of life, as the 
                  liner-notes mention, he wanted to be of use:  “I am the manure!” 
                  he joyfully exclaimed. 
                
Those who set his words 
                  to music are the stars of the German music firmament:  Werner 
                  Richard Heymann, Friedrich Hollaender, Hanns Eisler.  The first 
                  disc is devoted to these musical settings, the earliest of these 
                  recorded in 1930, ranging to 2004, with most put to tape in 
                  the sixties. An especial standout is the stout-hearted performance 
                  of Kate Kühl singing “Der Glockenturm”.  Heymann’s setting borrows 
                  heavily from the famous entry of the piano in Tchaikovsky’s 
                  first piano concerto, but darkens as the lyrics do.  The speaker 
                  “stands free in the world like the bell-tower ... moving neither 
                  to left or right.”  The ten-thousand-pound bells become a symbol 
                  for deep suffering in this all-too brief song:  “so heavy with 
                  pain is my heart”, Kuhl blurts out, the emotion in her voice 
                  raw and electrifying. There is one song translated into English, 
                  Amsterdam, showing the sad recurrence of crushed dreams 
                  in those Klabund wrote of — the people of the streets.  “In 
                  ancient Amsterdam I have become a Thing”, the singer intones, 
                  another character left to walk the asphalt like his mother. 
                
The second disc is 
                  a sort of audio book, with various actors narrating a selection 
                  of his prose and poetry.  His brief autobiographical sketches 
                  are interesting, and here we have straight readings of the verses 
                  that captured the attention of so many composers.  Unfortunately 
                  there are no parallel texts in the booklet, or any translations 
                  into English, which does limit the impact of this second disc, 
                  but it appears that the non-German-speaking audience is not 
                  the particular target of this release.  For those, however, 
                  who have working knowledge of German and who have a love of 
                  Cabaret music, should certainly look out for this set, as well 
                  as the others issued by Edel.  They are greatly rewarding and 
                  historically-significant collections.
                  
                  David Blomenberg