Born in early 1960's Germany and brought up with a lifetime of participation in stage musicals, film, and behind the microphone, Lemper seems the sort of classically trained superstar that is largely absent in modern times. Gaining early fame for her performance in the original Viennese version of Cats in 1984 and later recording Ute Lemper Sings Kurt Weill in 1987, she would create a successful career of interpreting classically influenced work that was either derived from or sent to the dramatic stage. Even at the age of 16, she seemed to have sophisticated ambitions beyond those of the usual teenager and would join the Panama Drive Band, a jazz rock band influenced by "Joan Armatrading, Chick Corea, the Brecker Brothers and all that."
But perhaps singing standards left Lemper with a sense of stagnation during the late 1990's (including a minor role in a panned 1996 film, Bogus, with Whoppi Goldberg), a new collaboration would commence with Northern Irish singer-songwriter Neil Hannon of The Divine Comedy. Requesting songs to be written for her by serious heavy-hitters such as Scott Walker, Elvis Costello, Nick Cave, Tom Waits, and Phillip Glass, along with her usual Weill-penned classics, the record is a showcase for Lemper's lifetime of prowess as a singer and performer.
Costello-penned numbers "Passionate Fight" and title track merge his cynical lyrics and shifting musical arrangements with Lemper's tender and emotive vocals, while "Streets of Berlin" have her match Glass' chanson inspired "rock" song in period-correct 60's voicing. Even Scott Walker's "Scope J", a behemoth of a finale with dissonant textures and tension, seems to be no problem as she moves from quiet intimacy to siren of despair for the song's continual build and collapse for 10+ minutes.
But then there is "Split", by far the most electrifying and driving track of the whole lot. Written by main collaborator Neil Hannon and his mainstay arranger, Joby Talbot, Ute Lemper goes toe to toe with Hannon handling the duet vocals of an estranged lover.
Like a rude awakening (hear the organ going up the scale chromatically in the first seconds), the song begins with a crash and tom-tom led drumbeats, driven by a persistent staccato piano chord progression, and call and response guitar/organ riffs that are treated with Leslie speakers.
Suddenly, Hannon begins singing in his near-lowest and most serious register (long-gone is
the soft-spoken bookworm of "The Booklovers"): "I was made for you, you were made for me... I thought." And Lemper responds in kind, "But maybe not after all!" Continuing this call and response, Hannon reminds her that "We had so much love..." and Lemper sets the dagger, "Love enough for three, I guess... Oh god."
Clearly, subtlety isn't in the cards for this song, but where the song could plod along as melodramatic moodiness forever, the song takes a relate-able, human shift as Lemper suggest that "Maybe there's hope...". And so the chords change, the pleading for forgiveness begins; "I never meant to hate you." And three, two, one...!
Suddenly the song is in full orchestral melancholic glory as both harmonize in a truly majestic (and effectively catchy) chorus of "ALL the times that we TOED the LINE, look what we've GOT! ALL the times that I FORGAVE YOU!". For a brief moment (and in each subsequent repeat of this chorus), the song has its melodrama validated, both characters here being fully justified in their vindication and pleading. Hannon's character for being so foolish to "let go of the signs" and Lemper's character for taking advantage of this foolishness. It's the pathos of a dramatic stage brought to audio form.
As it continues, the ugly details continue to pour out;"You were there for me... and HIM, and half of the western world it seems!/Oh baby that's not fair, there were two or three at most, but I don't like to boast!" And once the second, angrier variation of the chorus ends, what seems to be the actual physical aspect of confrontation and separation (the split, so to speak) is played by a fierce organ solo on the path of retribution.
Finally, after the orchestra uplifts for the third and final time for a glorious final chorus, the reality of the doomed situation comes crashing down with a repeated progression of descending strings, horns and piano chords. Now fully aware of the gravity of the situation, Lemper's character pleads for a final chance to be heard, "Baby please listen! Oh why won't you LISTEN?!", as Hannon sings with equal remorse, "GIVE ME ONE REASON WHY! I JUST want a REASON, WHY!" . Finally the madness of regret turns into vain bargaining, revelations of abuse and full-blown anger from Lemper, "I'm GONNA MAKE YOU LISTEN! So OPEN your EYES! You don't REALIZE the nights that I've CRIED the SALTIEST tears! The lovers who LIED and stepped on my PRIDE! I WANTED to STOP! I wanted to DIIIIIIIEEEE!". All the while, the desperation in Hannon's repetition of demanding to understand just "WHY" this has happened increases, the plea for a logical and rational reason for a devastating betrayal denied.
As the song fades into an eternally descending march into oblivion, Lemper simply whispers to herself, her character's betrayed partner no longer listening, "Want only you, need only you..." So ends the story with two people entirely separated and unable to communicate. And yet, for all the downtrodden nature of the subject matter, it is hard to not root for both characters in this story, for their downfalls are convincing, emotional, and gradually turn more complicated as the song reaches its climax.
When asked about her first band's falsely reported genre as punk, Lemper would respond, "I was never a punk person. The music of punk is not interesting to me, it’s horrible." With her discography and musical upbringing, it isn't hard to dismiss such a claim since punk was the nihilistic "answer" to sophisticated music, where complexity must die. It was an opposite world to what she was raised and thrived in; where performance and skill undeniably mattered the most.
But in the confines of "Split", the ferocity and simplicity of punk is matched and replaced by cutting musical arrangements, equally cutting lyrics, and dramatic vocal performances. Punk music simply lacks the vocabulary to reach the upmost heights of stage drama while demanding a quasi-universal emotional response. All in all, the knife is best impaled with precise skill and a confident, wry smile.
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