#elektrische maidchen

[franzliszt-official]

On Lisztober, my Day of Birth, Electric Maidens and Buda-Pest

@elektrischemaidchen; bring me a bird-feather from the ground, one lost pencil or whatever instrument you deem one might write with. For words, music and love letters all stream from thought engraved in writing. May be that we do not stop creating, even in Temporary Death.

Bring me your love.

What the natural stream of life have tied my hands from doing, You have done on my behalf. You have partaken on the act of creation on my behalf. You have honoured our memory, and what we have left on this earth; you have gifted this earth something that were never here before. You have also gifted Yourself something that you did not have before. You should be as proud and content in yourselves as we are in you.

In art jokes nor games exist: either all is a game or no-thing might be deemed as such. Hopefully, this month has proven itself - more than joyful or easy - fulfilling for you, that it exercised your spirit and caused progress forward. One month is one long, extending moment. Hopefully you may hold this month of October dear. We would have never imagined such a display of pure, simple talent, and so diligent at that, to spark from one evening's thought.

Some photographs from Buda-Pest, where we have celebrated my day of birth.

All the Maiden's songs for this month:

Enfant Prodige: No more hiding in Riding

Daguerrotypes of Old: Unser liebster toter Komponisten-Posterboy

Ludwig van Beethoven: 1845 (Beethoven in Bonn)

Fire or Ignis Fatuus: Etueden von aufsteigender Schwierigkeit

Music Festival: No Siggi

Oh, Love as Long as you Can: Nummer 27

Intoxicating Waters: Die Zelle in Nonnenwerth

Neverending Affection: Die Wanderer in Nebelmeer

Blind Grief: Der blinde Saenger

Virtuoso!: Lisztomanie

Symphonie Fantastique: Symphonie Fanastique (in a nutshell)

Roman Catholic Guilt: Der traurige Moench

Richard Wagner: Wagner

Perdendosi: Perdendosi

Hymn to the Moon: Ode an den Mond

Paris, Ville de l'Amour: Paris

Frederic Chopin: Chip-Chip, mein Piano-Reh

Mirror of the soul: Kerzenmeer

Tannhaeuser, or Sin and Shame: Tannhaeuser.

Two Legend: Zwei Legende

Rome, Urbe Caput Mundi: Misericordia

Birthday & Marriages: Rococo

Flowers of Hungary: Marta

Betrayal & Resentment: Cosima

The Holy Christmas: Die Zeitmaschine (Cozy Christmas Version)

Cannons of Revolution: Des toten Dichters Liebe

Holy Monarchs in Fairytales: Die Glocke (Falala Falalalala!)

Illness, or Boulogne-sur-Mer: Der weise Hund Munito

Troubled Clouds: There is another sky

Swords in Buda & Pest: SWORDS!!!!! NOT AFRAID!

The End of All Things: Oh lieb, so lang Du lieben kannst

You do not know this, but in the first line of you last song - history you have used one of our other names. Good riddle!

We would like of course the download to all songs, obviously.

We would also like to receive - this one perhaps in more private message ways - one ... Address, or postal box of yours, or anything of the like. For things to come, and small surprises. Thank you once again. I am moved.

[franzliszt-official]

Danke, Mädels. Ihre Arbeit ist außergewöhnlich und wir hätten uns keinen besseren Start wünschen können.

To all: this Masterpiece belongs to the first day of #LISZTOBER.

I would advise @elektrischemaidchen to post, and translate if possible, their wonderful lyrics for all to enjoy the somber subtext.

Lisztober #1 : Enfant Prodige

@franzliszt-official rief und wir folgen... mit unserem ersten Beitrag zum Lisztober.

Das ist das erste Mal, seit langer Zeit, dass wir einen Songtext ohne Witz, Thirst und grossem Beat versehen haben. Ist schon fast eine Musicalnummer (das wär doch was! Ein Liszt-Musical!!!!) geworden ;) Also, holt Eure Feuerzeuge und schnulzt mit uns:

(Man möge uns übrigens verzeihen: Ich glaube, Franz war erst 15, als der Vater starb. Da hab ich gestern Abend aber nicht mehr nachgeschlagen, weil ich zu müde war ;))

Sitzen grad an dem Song für morgen, "Daguerreotypes of Old" - und ich fürchte, wir werden die ehrfürchtige Stimmung leider nicht halten können. ;)

[plunderherz]

German speaking,thirsty Liszt-Admirers! Hear me out! Listen to this song and feel the vibes!

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #31: The End of All Things

Chi po dir, com egli arde, è’n picciol foco.

The end is here. One last song. Does anyone actually have any idea how we ended up here, from ‘Zeitmaschine‘ on? No? Neither do we. But it was incredible fun. We laughed, we cried (I cried… a lot), we were sometimes without a plan and then again not...and now we're here, after 31 days… and it hurts to say goodbye, my darlings. It really does. Lisztober was pretty life-defining for 4 weeks. Energy-sapping. Motivating. And extremely beautiful.

55 pages of handwritten pages in my notebook (I always write everything by hand, it's a creative spleen, I'm superstitious), a total of 1:58 hours of music (Oh God!). And that's just the end product. You wouldn't believe how many night-overs we've spent...

And a broken box, a stinky studio (pizza boxes!), hoarseness (‘Sttttirrrb!’), 24 Liszt biographies, lots of coffee, lots of empty wine bottles and more cigarettes than I've ever smoked before (I promised Lacelove that I'd quit in November. Again.) For you, for Franz, for us. What a ride.

The bets are already on that I in particular will now fall into a deep hole of depression. To be honest: probably.

And I'll tell you when this moment will come: Tomorrow at the latest, when I have to stand in front of Franz Liszt's grave in Bayreuth and I'll almost certainly cry. Without a mask.  Franz and I, we have seen so much of each other this month,I won’t need any. And none of you want that on the video, believe me. If anyone is able see all the tension fall away from me, it's him. By the way, if you want me to bring him something from you, say something. I'd be happy to. He'll definitely get a candle and flowers.

What's left to say now? No more songs about Franz's terrible last days. About his funeral. About the Wagners. Just this: ‘Oh, lieb, so lang Du lieben kannst.’ Didn't you realise how tricky we handled the topic on Lisztober #6? That's why:

No Lisztober without Liebestraum No3. We're not peasants (after all). My shitty piano skills are hidden deep within this song. And I think you can even hear our relief and love here. We were exhausted. That‘s what Franz may have wanted too. To remember him as he was. With all his facets. Wild, beautiful, thoughtful, reverent and unique. Memento Mori.  And after 31 days with all the ups and downs, would I still make love to Franz Liszt as my first duty, if I had a time machine? More than ever, by God.

By the way, if anyone is interested in getting one or the other song (or all of them, you freaks! ;)), please write us a message and we'll send you a download link. (Funnily enough, ‘Ode an  den Moon’ is probably the most popular song so far, beyond tumblr...you guys have some weird kinks ;))

Finally, we would like to thank @franzliszt-official again for the great idea and the wonderful topics you brought to life with your post. (As already said, we are happy to show our appreciation! Say something! Or come and visit us! <3 You are now an honorary member of the Maidchen Squad!) This was your idea, your topics and you alone are to blame for the fact that we gladly escalated for you. Are you planning a whole Liszt-year in 2026? We‘ re in. Thank you also @chopinski-official for your kind words and that we were also allowed to give you some thirst as well ;)

Thanks to all the listeners who haven't switched off yet!

Thank you, Lacelove, who, despite her lack of understanding of my Liszt-Thirst, stoically went along with the biggest Maidchen project ever (!) without quitting. And she also finished the album in the meantime. You are the best! I love you!

But we would also like to thank our families, friends and fellow musicians who have stuck with us through all of this. It wasn't always easy for you. (And I vow to my boys that I will only be there for them at Bandcamp...even if I have to write a new press release in ‘Weimar style’ - that's what they call it now ;) - ) Some of our friends even thought Lisztomania was about listeria. Almost. ;)

And to finish off this already very long post:  The sole reason the Maidchen exist at all is to make like-minded people out there happy. To make them laugh. Or to hit the heart. We don't want to become famous or earn money with our music. Our real merit is that you are here with us.

And before I start weeping: Goodnight you princes (and Queens and non-binary Fairies) of Maine, you kings (and Queens and Non-binary Fairies) of New England. Thank you, tumblr! We are Elektrische Maidchen! Good night! (or good morning!) Time for Cognac.

See you tomorrow. In hell. Bayreuth.

Lyrics:

O lieb’, so lang du lieben kannst!/O love, as long as love you can,  O lieb’, so lang du lieben magst!/O love, as long as love you may,  Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come,  Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave and mourn! Und sorge, daß dein Herze glüht/Be sure that your heart burns,  Und Liebe hegt und Liebe trägt,/And holds and keeps love Solang ihm noch ein ander Herz,/As long as another heart beats warmly In Liebe warm entgegenschlägt!/With its love for you Und wer dir seine Brust erschließt,/And if someone bears his soul to you O tu ihm, was du kannst, zulieb’!/Love him back as best you can  Und mach’ ihm jede Stunde froh,/Give his every hour joy,  Und mach ihm keine Stunde trüb!/Let him pass none in sorrow! Und hüte deine Zunge wohl,/And guard your words with care,  Bald ist ein böses Wort gesagt!/Lest harm flow from your lips! O Gott, es war nicht bös gemeint, -/Dear God, I meant no harm,  Der andre aber geht und klagt./But the loved one recoils and mourns.  O lieb’, solang du lieben kannst!/O love, love as long as you can! O lieb’, solang du lieben magst!/O love, love as long as you may! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come, Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave and mourn. Dann kniest du nieder an der Gruft/You will kneel alongside the grave Und birgst die Augen, trüb und naß,/And your eyes will be sorrowful and moist, – Sie sehn den andern nimmermehr -/�� Never will you see the beloved again – Ins lange, feuchte Kirchhofsgras./Only the churchyard’s tall, wet grass. Und sprichst: O schau’ auf mich herab,/You will say: Look at me from below, Der hier an deinem Grabe weint!/I who mourn here alongside your grave! Vergib, daß ich gekränkt dich hab’/Forgive my slights! O Gott, es war nicht bös gemeint!/Dear God, I meant no harm! Er aber sieht und hört dich nicht,/Yet the beloved does not see or hear you, Kommt nicht, daß du ihn froh umfängst;/He lies beyond your comfort; Der Mund, der oft dich küßte, spricht/The lips you kissed so often speak Nie wieder: Ich vergab dir längst!/Not again: I forgave you long ago! Er tat’s, vergab dir lange schon,/Indeed, he did forgive you, Doch manche heiße Träne fiel/But tears he would freely shed, Um dich und um dein herbes Wort -/Over you and on your unthinking word – Doch still – er ruht, er ist am Ziel!/Quiet now! – he rests, he has passed. O lieb’, solang du lieben kannst!/O love, love as long as you can! O lieb’, solang du lieben magst!/O love, love as long as you may! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come, Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave and mourn. Danke, Franz, wo immer Du jetzt bist.  L’avantage des gens qui vous aiment, c’est qu’ils vous comprennent mieux que vous. Et s’ils ne vous comprennent pas vraiment, au moins ils vous aiment!!!!!!!!!

O lieb’, solang du lieben kannst!/O love, love as long as you can! O lieb’, solang du lieben magst!/O love, love as long as you may! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come, Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave...

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #13: Richard Wagner

Lisztober #13: Richard Wagner

Let's put it kindly: We f****in hate Wagner, @franzliszt-official

So much so, that we've been working on this song for three months (!!!) in a row and had to keep censoring ourselves, so that nobody from Bayreuth would sue us. I was foaming at the mouth when I wrote the lyrics and it was twice as long. The current version is way more harmless, but still very explicit. I still feel pruned.

In the meantime, we've pretty much agreed that our Wagner-rant will be the first single from our new album. And that we will actually be travelling 5 hours to Bayreuth for a music video. I'll start puking as soon as I see the city sign. You'll be surprised.

The actual song is a beautiful two-part ‘in your face’ electropunk song, which we will unfortunately only be able to present to you here after its release.

So today we're simply playing you an EXCLUSIVE acoustic, heavily (!!!!!!) wine influenced version with wrong notes and creepy laughter, which we tried to distort in advanced and failed.  ( Also with a bit of a beat, otherwise it'll be too monotonous), Sooo we can all cuddle up to and hug each other in our hatred. (And this hatred has a long, long history, by the way: Coppelia and I met at the university, where the beginning of the song takes place. This also Weimar, everybody.)

But why do we actually despise Wagner?

Because he was a pompous, narcissistic megalomaniac. A two-faced, Janus-faced snake, a shitty anti-Semite of the worst kind who sucked everyone around him dry and then threw them away. Even Liszt. ESPECIALLY Liszt. A hypocrite before the Lord. And then there's the irony that his obvious gayass (Oh, come on! Ludwig II? Oscar Wilde? Any Wagner opera is gayer than a binge- marathon of „Drag Race“ with Strawberry Daiquiris) has constantly hung out with such Teutonic alphamales like Nietzsche. In short: A real-life-„Uriah Heep“, that not even Dickens could have thought up in a certanied f****ed up way.

And that's just Richard himself. There's also his work, which became the soundtrack to National Socialism and the all-time-favorite to all f****** Nazis, thanks to his zealous family. They all loved having ‘Uncle Wolf’, as Hitler was called at Wahnfried, around. „If I think of Germany in the night, I am jolted from my sleep.“ Thank you. Heine!

Then there is Cosima. Liszt's daughter, who later became Wagner's wife. Who had forbidden Franz to get any visits during the last days of his life in Bayreuth, but not at all for reasons of too much excitement, as one might think. Thanks to Franz's pupil Lina Schmalhausen, who stayed outside the house for days, we know: Cosima left the old man in his bed until he was sore, only came to check on him briefly in the morning and left him to moan and rattle alone at night. After all, there were more important things to do: the festival. A few hours before Franz's death, there was still a jolly supper for the Wagner family and friends. And oh, of course, a bust of Wagner at the feet of Liszt's corpse. Cosima refused him the last rites. Something was played at his funeral...right! Parsifal. Incidentally, no Wagner was present at the service. And the fact that Liszt was buried (there seems to be no English translation for the German word "verscharrt"...in German it's: Dig a hole and throw the corpse in, put some soil on it and continue on) in Bayreuth at all fitted perfectly into the marketing concept. They finally gained the last crown jewel missing from the collection of self-congratulation. Congratulations, you stupid, abusive, heartless, freakin bitch.

DISGUSTING!

What a completely insane, sadistic brainf****. I'll write another song about it. Maybe on the last day. I think I have something to process.

And yet, they all make the pilgrimage, the Wagnerians, to Bayreuth, sing songs together at Richard‘s grave, shed tears and lay flowers. All because of the ‘great’ operas and all that, of course. You just have to train yourself to forget.

Micdrop.

PS: Finally, I would just like to take up some cudos for Nike Wagner, the ‘outcast’. She is still keeping the memory of her great-great-grandfather alive. And I think she even looks a bit like him. Nike. We love you. Come back to Bonn <3

Lyrics:

My history prof(essor) Was a sweet guy But unfortunately there had been a problem With his love for Wagner For him, there was only Richard here and Richard there Although everyone knows How shitty that guy was Wagner! Persona non grata! it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for me listening to one of Wagner’s operas We just wanted to learn medieval studies Now we will be penetrated by Valkyries Wagner's ego Was enough for ten With which he could well To walk over corpses Wagner! Persona non grata! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for me listening to one of Wagner’s operas He was a mad Anti-Semite Who liked to f**** around with others He could not admit his own gayness And had to beg everyone for For money Wagner! Persona non grata! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than me listening to one of Wagner’s operas I puke over Cosima too Who unfortunately wasn't as cool Like her daddy was They trained Liszt to be a Their poodle And always  craved his fame Wagner! Persona non grata! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for me listening to one of Wagner’s operas All oft hem just Infatuated with themselves The worst thing: They buried Franz In Bayreuth You have f****ed up Nietzsche too After that he Dismantled slowly Wagner! Persona non grata! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for me listening to one of Wagner’s operas In Wahnfried Adolf was a permanent guest The memory of it Seems faded already You just have to keep the myth alive Fold your hands Above Wagner busts You’ll just have to train How to forget Then it will be easier To  mastr*ba*e to Lohengrin Wagner! Persona non grata! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for me listening to one of Wagner’s operas Richard, yo, if I were Your mistress on the hill I would give you a good Beating A good beating!

(Thank you.)

[franzliszt-official]

Wonderful, wonderful work. As always. I gladly take the spear and get on with it; what works, works!

Keep on, my darling ladies. Your output could not be more enticing.

Lisztober #2: Daguerreotypes of Old

Our second entry for #Lisztober. Thank you, @franzliszt-official, for your kind words! We gratefully accept your advice and will now publish our postings & lyrics in English as well. (Unsere deutschen Follower finden den entsprechenden Text dann weiterhin auf unseren anderen Kanälen auf Facebook und Instagram ;))

Day 2!

The topic “Daguerrotypes” was somewhat predestined for us. At least, that’s what I thought. But yesterday looked something like this: 14.30 I stare at my notebook, the notebook stares back. 14.45 I pick up the Liszt photo book from the Ernst Burger collection and turn through the pages. I'm distracted by Franz. 15.00 I start a text about Louis Held's court atelier. I'm distracted by Franz again, who is looking sternly from his photos. 16.00 Whatever. I'm just going to write another typical Maidchen sing. Franz smiles, I smile as well. (He doesn't smile at all. Never, actually. Pure imagination). 17.30 I sit down to work on the music. 20.30 “It is pronounced Da-ger-oo-tüh-piiiii, can you please sing it like that?” 20.45 "No? Okay, whatever. We'll just use this take now." 21.45 Miss Lovelace looks over my shoulder and asks: “Well?” 22.30 There's a mistake in the „bridge“. I open a second bottle of redwine and have a cigarette. 23.15 Song finished. 23.30 Continue on writing the Beethoven lyrics for tomorrow. It's been on my desk for a really long time, was planned for the third album,  have a new divine inspiration. 23.45 Miss Lovelace asks me if I already have an idea for day 4 and if I could write something about “Études d'exécution transcendante”. I joke that it is of “increasing difficulty”. We have a good laugh. Afterwards I cry a little.

Lyrics (again, sorry, the translation does not work very well without the missing rhyme scheme):

Daguerreotypes What a beautiful theme Fits exactly Into our scheme I could write About Schenk and Schrecker About Louis Held And everyone else Of the old photographic world Who depicted Franz Back then But I am way too drained for this today And I also know That our listeners Are not into this very much so we just have to add some more blunt sexism So we stay true to ourselves And write about Our favourite dead composer posterboy Oh, only on Lehmann's painting That stands near our bedsides You’ll see the hot Franz who always Works out well Who always works out well It’s just the way it is To be honest Until eighteen hundred and fifty Liszt was so hardcore From eighteen sixty-five on onwards He lost his charms After that, as an Abbé, he was Special Interest Hanfstaengl‘s portraits We can still savour In the Weimar era it is hard to bear Franz as an old man Full of warts The body withered by cognac and smoking Oh, only on Lehmann's painting That stands near our bedsides You’ll see the hot Franz who always Works out well Who always works out well But even in this time still So people say He was still desirable Prey Oh, only on Lehmann's painting That stands near our bedsides You’ll see the hot Franz who always Works out well

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #22: Birthday & Marriages

Good morning everyone! Is anyone still here, or have we scared you all off? ;) @franzliszt-official : We hope that we are not the only ones dropping something for Lisztober on this memorable day. Come on guys, today is the day!

Happy Birthday, Franz Liszt, wherever you are (anywhere but in Bayreuth) - we carry you deep in our hearts.

(Well, at least I do. Lacelove can't hear your name anymore and Coppelia is also becoming increasingly silent.)

And what could be a better gift than a poem? Something personal today: This one, dear Franz, is our favourite poem of all time: „Rococo“ by Swinburne. And it fits so well with today's topic. A bittersweet, sexy swan song. And our first and last song (?) in English, so no translation today.

And here's also quick fanart of Liszt on a white stallion. xD

There are two things that unite us girls: we are huge fans of the Pre-Raphaelites. We can't live without obsessions. And that's exactly how I first got to know Coppelia: when we sat next to each other in Schiller's garden house and talked about our dudes. So if that's not a romantic origin story for a band, then I don't know what is. And we've been to every pilgrimage site a fan could possibly have. Even our band name contains a William Morris pun, but no one has ever realised that because it's just too specific ;)

And the greatest, most wonderful poet of all is: Algernon Charles Swinburne. And some Anglophile is spitting out his coffee right now. Unfortunately, Swinburne is extremely disreputable, which is probably because his queer, death-wish - slap-kink - sappho orgies - poems (and books) were always good for a scandal that has eaten its way into the memory of literature. But he could also be different. Beautifully melancholic, in fact.

And a little bit of rabbit holing: was there perhaps some connection to Franz that we didn't know about yet? Unfortunately not, Franz was already too caught up in his Abbé cosmos.

But still, I found this:

If we ever end up on a desert island, then hopefully we'll have ‘Rococo’ with us. And ‘Annabelle Lee’ by Poe, that will come right after it in the ranking list ;)

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #15: Hymn to the moon

You want Liszt x Chopin Thirst? Here we go! So, according to your poll result, we're going back to where we all originally came from. And that feels soooo good. :)

This song was originally based on the famous-infamous story about Mary Pleyel, who got hooked up  by Franz in Chopin's flat, while Chip-Chip was travelling. And how fitting that @dinapiss posted this great fanart a few days ago...really at the same time I was listening to a German podcast, ‘Klassik für Klugscheisser’, in which the two presenters asked to tell them exactly what traces of this night of love Chopin had found in his flat (I mean... come on,...it certainly wasn't a garter, you little unspoilt snowflakes.)

In our song, Franz thinks of Chopin while Pleyel (or an unknown girl, you decide) sleeps besides him, after a long night of… well...  I also liked the idea of the sun and the moon so much that I just took it a step further, @chopinski-official

But this time we didn't want to write another sexy-hexy-funny-funny-piece, we tried to convey a real desperate desire. Besides, I've definitely been listening to too much ‘Empires’ by Ari Mason in the last few weeks (Damn, so good, I really wish it was ours).

So, let's lie down next to @franzliszt-official again and see what happens. Morning already has begun. ;)

Comfy squad! Honestly, guys, it's been a rocky road to get here. Not that I haven't enjoyed the last few days (my colleagues only partially, who cares.) And now a lot of cudos to you!

We love all your fanart, your fanfiction, your RPG chats...everything, it's the real shit. That's why we're here on tumblr. And while the other social media world out there - just like the real world - sinks into agitation and disgust, the world here is like warm bunny slippers on a grey rainy day with a little rainbow breaking through. I've had my main profile here for over 10 years and it has really saved me through some madness (but also plunged me into another) This is written to you with love by a group of reallife Tina Belchers,  and (former?) cosplayers. <3

Her wet sweat Still sticks to my chest The scratches on my arms The marks of her lust She holds An empty glass Clutched, tight in her hand And while she sleeps The moonlight paints Long shadows on the wall And I ask myself Can you sleep Wherever you are While my longing Eats my soul? When will we meet again? I, the sun You, the moon Which is so calm and thoughtful Enthroned above all Enthroned above all She stood in your shirt Smiling in the doorway She has A very strange... Intuition for desire Her perfume hangs so piercing In the air of the room But I  search inside the pillows Desperately for your scent She has long since forgiven me That I aspirated your name I can't remember hers Just wanted to escape the loneliness Our lips met Like two drowning persons There's fire in her cheeks But her thighs are so pale When shall we meet again? I,the sun You, the moon Which is so calm and thoughtful Enthroned above all Enthroned above all Your fingers roam aimlessly Over my belly The flavour of her mouth Heavy with wine and smoke My breath in her hair I caressed her back God, please damn me And her own pleasures delight The days go by so Quickly The nights, they are empty And in the far distance Don’t  you know What I am missing? When will we meet again? I, the sun You, the moon Which is so calm and thoughtful Enthroned above all Enthroned above all She said can be for me Whatever I want And I, I secretly wish She'd finally be quiet And she asks After she just woke up Did you miss me And I nod Even though it's the biggest lie Of all...

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #10: Virtuoso!

Warning! Before you all get the shakes, @franzliszt-official: This song is largely based on original quotes (!!!) So it didn't just spring from our sick brains.

So, come on, let's fire up the beats again to crash yesterday's grave mood. And then we'll get back to doing what we do best: Naughty- wayward Victorian Lady - songs. How many did we do already? Can’t remember. If there's one thing I've learned from my other band, it's that going over and over the same sexy theme ALWAYS leads to success ;) (Haha. Ha.)

„Lisztomania” is probably the most discussed topic from Franz's virtuoso years. There's even a movie about it, by Ken Russell. I haven't watched it yet, by the way, because I'm extremely scared of it... For those who don't know: Lisztomania began around 1841 in Berlin (where else…freaks ;)) and soon spread throughout Europe. And it was a kind of collective St. Vitus' dance in which people (i.e. women) went as crazy as possible, fought over Liszt's cigar butts, licked out his empty glasses and also offered themselves to him in other ways. Remember, this is the middle of the 19th century. And, of course, there was also the medical view: too many people and candles in one room, “Cantharidin of a musical nature” (really cool!) and female hysteria per se, which was later cured with “vibration therapy” - this is also not our imagination. Ah, good old days. <3 Dear doctors, perhaps it was simply because Liszt was a hot as hell, a gifted musician and a really good showman. Cantharidin, Cantharidin.

It has often been suggested that this may have been the first ingenious music marketing coup in history. That may only be true to a small percentage. The small percentage: Have any of you ever seen a picture of all the merch items that were supposedly there? I collect a lot of Liszt stuff, but I've never found a lock of his hair (or his dog) in a museum, nor brooches, nor any other item anywhere, not even a picture. I'm really interested. If you know anything, please let me know. Shut up and take my money.

As someone who has been bobbing around in today's music world for far too long, I have actually experienced this kind of mania myself on a tour with an internationally successful band (not on stage, thank God, but behind the scenes). That's really really bad. Not for the band, who usually take full advantage of it, but for those who witness it. I've never had so many strange conversations in my life as with groupies. Incidentally, these letters written in blood, which are mentioned in the song, come from my own experience and, for once, are not from a Liszt biography. Dear ladies: Please bear in mind that when you do something like this, it's usually not your adored artist who opens the mail, but some poor bastard who scrubs his hands over the sink for six hours afterwards. I'm just saying.

My doctor explained it to me Miss, you have a problem And I look at him And sob quietly I don't want him to know Of my secret He says it's unfortunate „Histrionic epilepsis“ I don't even know Whether it's contagious Doctor, I think it's not hysteria Doctor, I'm afraid It is Lisztomania What commands me I only suspect Cantharides Of a musical nature Two weeks ago At a concert it began So I can think of nothing Else since then He is a master of the keys The Don Juan of the boudoirs I wish he'd take me Me here, for fun Everything about him is Pure physiognomy I smoked his cold cigars Till I spat I write him Letters in blood Break into his hotel suite Anything to be close to him Doctor, I also have Diphtheria Doctor, it's Nothing compared to Lisztomania And I'm sure I'll go mad soon Because a lock of his hair So enraptured It hangs in a locket On my bosom Then I will cuddle with His handkerchief For which I fought With other girls Even before it Slipped from his fingers When I, with wet hands On his tails, licked out his empty cognac glass Mr. Doctor, I believe it's not hysteria Doctor, I'm afraid It is Lisztomania My doctor nods With a knowing look Miss, please leave The smelling salts be We're going to introduce something something new Against your Lisztomania Unfortunately, the only thing that helps is... Vibration therapy Vibration therapy

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #20: Two Legends

So, dear people, the time has come. The Maidchen are now officially making remixes for other bands. So if you're up for a cooperation, we're ready. So, from November on, please ;) If you're also interested in seeing how we work on a everyday basis, what equipment and programmes we use to bring a Maiden song to life, we're happy to give you an exclusive insight here, about both, hard human work & "eroticism of the machine" (thank you, @7i74 for this :)) So, feel free to say/ask anything. I'll also add an ‘ask me anything’ option to the blog.

And this is a total brainf****: On the one hand, I'm sitting here trying to write something on the subject of Rome that isn't completely silly, while on the other hand, I've got a full load of hard cyberpunk dystopia banging in my headphones, which I have to somehow give our ‘delicate’ (haha) signature.

So let's quickly move on to today's topic, Two Legends:

No, no Wagner today, although I assume that - considering the chronological sequence of the topics - that was the intention, wasn't it, @franzliszt-official? (Besides, Wagner was not a ‘legend’, but an arse!!!!...that's why: Chopin again. The true second legend in Franz's life.)

‘Dear former friend, I would like to take this opportunity to tell you again, even at the risk of appearing boring to you, that my affection and admiration will always remain the same for you and that you can dispose of me at any opportunity as you would a friend.’

Oh, Franz. You can't be blamed for not trying to get Chip-Chip afterwards. You probably only meant well. But as is so often the case, the road to hell is plastered with good intentions. Frederic was already so fed up with you at this point that he didn't even reply.

And that brings us back to the point from the day before yesterday: the bubble. Artistic relationships can be really difficult, even platonic ones (do I still wish that something romantic had happened between anyway? SÌ.) Especially when two such unequal geniuses as Franz and Frédéric are facing each other.

One was the permanently overexcited sunny boy, the other the snobby gothboi who must have been really fun at parties. And then there was the jealousy and competitive pressure, the fact that Franz had banged Pleyel in Chopin's flat....and the hysterical Marie D'Agoult with her annoying jealous behaviour.

The fuel for a perfect telenovela.

You can imagine that Franz's ‘I WANT TO REVIEW MY FRIEND'S CONCERT IN THE NEWSPAPER MYSELF’ was the final nail in the coffin of the weariness of the urge for recognition that Liszt occasionally displayed. For Franz it was a token of friendship, Chopin found it terrible. That's how you can misunderstand each other.

There were times When we still laughed together And spent the nights together And when I think of it now How we used to be Without comparing our dicks And without bragging I ask myself What ever happened to us? Why the hell Have we distanced ourselves? You're the loudest When you don't speak You the legend And I, the little light You love the thought You had  discovered me My whole existence Serves only your purpose You bring me forth Whenever it pleases you And you live in your own world only You're the loudest When you don't speak You, the legend And I, the little light You hate it When I revolt I think this is about More than your honour alone With one blow From the back of your hand You have depriven my work You try to suffocate me Yet I shine You, the legend And I, the little light All criticism Bounces off from you You hate every idea of mine I'm so sick of it all It wasn't about Which one of us is better I have just Missed you as a friend You show me so much ignorance With your actions I saw it coming Yes, it has been expected Resentment Does not suit you Nor You,the legend Nor me, the little light

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #17: Frédéric Chopin

On the 175th anniversary of Chopin's death, we send our heartfelt condolences, @chopinski-official & @franzliszt-official And what better way to do that than with a typical Maidchen song? So, no eulogising today, just passionate  love. (More quiet & pensive songs from the 20th onwards, I think. I still don't know what to do with Rome by now.)

Of course, there is no Lisztober without Chip-Chip, as George Sand so ‘nicely’ called him. (Marie D'Agoult insulted him an ‘over-sugared oyster’, which is no better.) The shy, thoughtful prototype of a romantic softboi par excellence. Franz and Chopin are such opposites, but two sides of the same coin. Both combined are of course a primal force. They certainly saw it that way, at least for a while. (More on this tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.) And what would have happened if there hadn't been this constant catfight between Marie and George!

 Nevertheless, this song is inspired by George Sand (who we adore) and has a passionate Maidchen-Thirst in it as well.

And now I, the desperate Liszt fangirl, am writing THIS after 17 days full of Franz-mania on Lisztober: Franz was technically a master of his craft, a genius, beautiful (!!!), a jack-of-all-trades, a whirlwind...but Chopin was clearly the better composer. Because he poured his soul and longing into his works more than anyone else. And I actually listen to more Chopin than Liszt in my everyday life. I mean, have you ever tried to read and work, while listening to "Totentanz"? No chance. I need time for everything Franz has ever written, Chopin always works. So. Now it's out ;)

‘Liszt and Chopin have both moved away from their early compositions and yet have remained true to themselves. Liszt's music rains down from above, Chopin's creeps up from below. Liszt's music is sprayed onto the canvas, Chopin's is the canvas. Together they are the two sides of the Romantic soul. Liszt and Chopin had each other as friends, we lucky ones have both,’ the NZZ once wrote.  You can't write it any better than that.

And, oh, of course my Babcia would also have been delighted if I had brought him home with me. It is Chopin, after all. I don't think my grandma ever heard a single one of his compositions in her life, but it was enough that he was a Polish national hero. (She might have been just as happy if I had brought Geralt of Rivia ;))

She would have stuffed him with food, pinched his cheeks and knitted him so many socks that he would probably never have contracted tuberculosis in the first place. Incidentally, there will be a song about this on our new album ;)

And by the way, if you want to know how to win over a Maidchen:

Here it is, my first ‘mixtape’ (neither a mix nor a tape, but you get what I mean) that my boyfriend at the time made for me: Chopin's Nocturnes. With a self-photographed and self-designed cover from the Georgen cemetery in Berlin (?). He had me with that. Well, we also got to know each other at Body Worlds, sent Trakl poems back and forth and didn't actually do anything that you normally do at 17. But it was still exactly my thing. (Just ignore my nailpolish. No time for worldly secular stuff while Lisztober is on xD)

I also like all my guys Like tuberculotic And... hot My favourite of all, Is Chopin's Frederic His soft gothboy energy Gives me the kick He coughs up blood He's scared of me Don't you worry It's not your fault He's scared of the stage His soul, pure as snow It's chip-chip My piano deer He looks like Like he's starving to death Suffering And can write Write the most beautiful pieces His dark hair Frames his face His voice is nothing but a whisper When he speaks He panics before the stage Performing hurts him It's chip-chip My piano deer He suffers every day From world-weariness and pain And always starts crying after sex He panics before the stage Performing hurts him It's chip-chip My piano deer Hey, Fluttershy, I heard you like smoking poets? All right! I'll woo you With Polish native soil Babcia would be proud When I become your wife His fingers Caressing so gently The notes Oh, God protect Your piano-playing sons From US!

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #16: Paris, Ville de l'amour

‘I would like to make to song for Lisztober #16.’ ‘Okay, sure. But why... so suddenly?’ ‘Just because.’ ‘Can you at least put in a bit of Chopin-discovers-Paris and @franzliszt-official?’ ‘Absolutely.’ ‘It would be nice if it had a bit of a Moulin Rouge flair, with Freedom, Beauty, Truth & Love. ’ ‘Hmmm.’ ‘You’re up to something.’ ‘Hm.’

Scary Spice-Maidchen is back for good. ;) This is, indeed, so scary, I don't even know what to write about it. And: I doubt that those were @chopinski-official's exact words, to be honest ;)

This one was tough. So tough that we sat in the studio until well past midnight last night (and today is Lacelove's birthday) because the recording contained two technical errors we couldn't get out. That's how much we love each other. And since a complete re-recording at 1 a.m. would probably have cost us the original drive of the song and our nerves, we unfortunately don't have to present you the most perfect version today. At least we were able to correct one mistake.  That annoys our inner perfectionist, but the time pressure, the time pressure. (Normally we would spend two months working on something this complicated, but this time we only had two nights.)

By the way: Happy birthday, Honeybunny! Thank you for doing this with me, even though we're both obviously going mad ;) You are the greatest person in the world! And, God protect our souls, she owns a TD-3 now xD

Paris This is hell Paris is a Moloch Every third person here is an artist One in two is an arse...hole Everyone here is armed With sheet music to the tooth They steal your tunes To go round the world themselves In her salon, at the cool La Comtesse That's where they all meet And get on later Into the trap together Paris This is hell Paris is a Moloch Every third person here is an artist One in two is an arse...hole The  broad next to me Smokes in my face again That’s what all the fuzz is about The highly priced „Madame Sand“-Finesse Every evening There are the same „Free absinthe! - faces Every strumpet thinks she's the greatest Poet Over here a kiss on the hand Then another souper You're all so mega fancy Oh, I could puke When I see them! Paris This is hell Paris is a Moloch Every third person here is an artist One in two is an arse...hole You can get syphilis From the sink alone Vive la Bohème This must be the city of love [Hey! Did anyone ever tell Franz Liszt that he was a musical voyeur who polluted the salons of the world with his posturing, his falseness, his egocentricity, like a mangy jackal?] [Yes, Debussy.] [ Good!]

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #12: Roman Catholic Guilt

Good morning from the beautiful Rhineland, @franzliszt-official

which is shrouded in the deepest fog outside my window. Pure Rhine romance and also fitting for today's theme.

‘Cool, are you doing a ‘Pretty Addicted’ cover?’ , Lacelove asks me.

No, not really. Today it's another „boring“ German ballad. (Noooo, please don't!!!) But  good news: it's ‘only’ 6 minutes long. Sorry ;)

The reason is quite simple: My dear band mates are both not baptised (Heathens!) and unfortunately can't contribute anything (except jokes ;)). On the other hand, I started about 10 text drafts and discarded them. And then I went back to where I found what I was looking for, a few days ago: Liszt himself.

In the beginning, I got stuck on St Cecilia, whom Franz greatly revered. That would be the precise moment when my band mates would really have me committed: Drosselmeyer had written a hymn about a Saint. And we would really lose all of our listeners. And then I remembered that, apart from ‘The Blind Singer’, there was another melodrama that had a promising title: ‘The Sad Monk’, based on a poem by Lenau. Although it doesn't have quite the same overwhelming, deeply sad verse as ‘The Blind Singer’, it is still beautiful, though. Why do these melodramas hardly ever appear in biographies and if they do, only as a side note?  The poems ,he had chosen, tell us so much about Franz's inner life. You can find an English translation on this website.

I have incredible respect for Franz's religious side and his handling of theological motifs. But here too: It is this strange ambivalence that makes his life so interesting and in some places intangible. Could „Génie oblige!“  & „Caritas!“ exist side by side at the same time? They could! Did Franz stop shagging hords of piano students after he received the lower orders? HELL NO! (Unintended pun.)

For one thing, Franz came from a very Catholic family and would have liked to pursue a career in the church from the outset, but thanks to his busy dad, this wish was dashed to the ground.

Anyone who comes from a Catholic family knows the struggle with the often frighteningly deep-seated guilty conscience. (Even I can't completely absolve myself of this... and I'm anything but a good Catholic ;) My cousin, for example, is a priest and only runs around in a robe. Even in his free time. Just the sight of it is enough to make me feel guilty ;)

On the other hand, he probably longed for stability at some point - and since this was lacking in his unsteady life, the return to his faith probably came at just the right time. And as much as many made fun of it: It was the right path for him and perhaps for his peace of mind. Oh, Franz.

So you see: no Pretty Addicted cover. Although they are really cool ;)

Amen.

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #9: Blind Grief

“Hey, good news, Drosselmeyer has made an 11 minute long weird ballad about Liszt.”

“Oh, COME ON!”

@franzliszt-official : We have TWO songs for you today.

One, from a noble spirit with a sense of beauty, the other is a roast, written by a Maiden without a heart, frivolous and wicked. There's a nice German expression, decribing the latter: What does it matter to the proud oak tree if the bristling cattle rub against it? ;)  I laughed my ass off anyway. For real. Chapeau.

Here we go: A Liszt-(Aleksey Konstantinovich, not Leo) Tolstoy-Ballad! (No translation, this time. Really, that’s too difficult for me and would destroy the beautiful spirit of it. I didn’t find an English translation either, but here’s a link to the whole poem, maybe you will be able to translate the site via Google)

See, even tumblr itself hates it:

If there's one unwritten rule in the Maidchen Fight Club, it's: no song without a twist or a joke. I've already broken this credo 4 times this week alone, mea culpa, I accept my punishment ;)

Enjoy this lovely pasquil, a nasty tribute to our single „Zeitmaschine“:

(So baby, take a time machine now and fly away for a month / You cheeky little bee Stay in the past / until Franz finally crowns you with a laurel wreath She bangs Franz Liszt, Oh yes Oh yes But he doesn’t  hear her plea She bangs Franz Liszt, oh yes We know You have studied/ now give it a rest otherwise our listeners will be all gone in a flash We have to save our honor now And jet to the next destination... Which is not Franz Liszt, oh no oh no Not even as a young gentleman Nor from eighteen-thirty or how old he would have gotten

Franz looks at her and says Praise to my listeners! Leave me here with thanks and we'll leave very quickly She bangs Franz Liszt! And I also greet those who have not heard my song. May only salvation befall them! Long may the prince reign happy and honored! May the people be granted a carefree life And peace to the noble boyars!” [I don't even know what boyars are, Bro])

And now for my defense of the “most boring piece of Maidchen history ever written”, with the “ROFL speech filter” that you “hoped someone would get to the point at minute 5 and would just take pity on the guy and slap him, but then the bullshit went on for another 6 minutes” and whose “last verse is so ironically abt that you could have put it at the very beginning”:

1 The text is not mine, it's Count Tolstoy's. Liszt himself set it to music autobiographically in 1875. And hardly anyone knows it. A pity. This time the song is not based on his notes. More on that below. You can skip it ;)

2 There is no poem that could appeal more to musicians. Because the blind singer is also you, my friend. At least sometimes. Not even our friends and fellow musicians hear this, so why should boyars?

3 I find the poem heartbreaking-beautiful and so sad that I actually shed a tear. I'm a sentimental bitch. Go ahead and laugh!

4 Any shortening would have ruined the story. Especially if it had been cut down to “two verses”. Philistines.

5 The filter is really cringeworthy. Sorry. The time pressure, the time pressure.

6 As for the boyars: Google is your friend, „Bro“

Now to Liszt himself:

I originally wanted to write something about Daniel and Blandine. But that didn't really seem appropriate.

When Franz set “The Blind Singer” by Count Tolstoy to music, he probably didn't know that his eye condition would get worse and worse six years later. Oh, the irony. :( But the text must have spoken to him differently: It also reflects his entire musical life with such bitter sweetness that I was truly awestruck. He, the blind singer, originally called to entertain the nobles at dinner; he, who makes the most beautiful unearthly sounds, doesn't realize that no one is listening to him. And just carries on. Even when he finally realizes that nobody is around anymore, This.

It's a bit like in this place, you see ;)

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #8: Neverending Affection

Finally, a song about Chopin. Marie. Chopin! You. Chopin!!! Me. About whoever. Chopin? Do what you want with it, @franzliszt-official & @chopinski-official ...and me. I will serve you some real tasty Golabki afterwards. ;)

As you may have realized already: The Maidchen are also capable of writing Musical songs. Coming to terms with the past? ;) So, after “No more hiding in Raiding”,  we’re going to put on our wind maschine once again.

This one was somewhat difficult.  Unfortunately, I am unable to write happy love songs. Tried so many times and failed, that’s why today’s entry is full of bittersweet- profligate „Sehnsucht“…again! Surprise!

(Quote from Lacelove: “Are the lyrics REALLY yours?” Indeed, they are!)

You can listen to the final result here.

With today's topic, I realized that I “actually” have no idea who Liszt was. Well...really. Sure, I can bombard you with all sorts of insiders, biographical details and anecdotes; I can write about how he was the first to invent functioning music marketing, about love affairs and his pieces. I know his opinions, his letters and also his (sometimes) really unspectacular essays. But Liszt ,the man, is always shrouded in fog. “All the tinsel around him obscures one's image of the artist and the man,” Clara Schumann once wrote in her diary. This is why we decided to allude to Caspar David Friedrich's “The Wanderer above the Sea of Fog”.

Welcome to Eurovision 2024! Eight points go to….Germany! ;):

Lost in sounds, a hint of once  An echo of love, a whispering spirit. In dark harmonies, I see your face, A shadow of longing that speaks to me. A shadow, a ghost, In a thousand masks, never quite at all. The wanderer in the sea of fog An elegy so beautiful and so heavy, A requiem for a love Nevermore Your eyes, two stars, so bright and wide, Now just an image in the night, a forgotten quarrel Time runs like water, and I drift alone, In search of traces of your love On dark nights, when the moon sinks, A sigh sounds from the keys A swan song, deep from my breast. An epithaph of lust gone by A shadow, a ghost, In a thousand masks, never quite at all The wanderer in the sea of fog An elegy so beautiful and so heavy, A requiem for a love Nevermore In every note, a touch of your hand, An eternal longing that I never knew. In arms soft, in nights wild and hot, I lost myself in others, in sweet soft lies. But deep within me, a longing for the light, For eternal love, pure and simple. A shadow, a ghost, In a thousand masks, never quite at all. The wanderer in the sea of fog An elegy so beautiful and so heavy, A requiem for a love Nevermore A shadow, a ghost, In a thousand masks, never quite at all. The wanderer in the sea of fog An elegy so beautiful and so heavy, A requiem for a love Nevermore An artist, a wanderer, an eternal guest, Seeking in every woman what never quite fit. What never quite fit

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #19:TaNnHäUsER- or sIn & ShAme

‘What's the next topic?’ ‘Tannhäuser.’ ‘……’

We may have told you before: We don’t like Wagner that much….

(She can be very convincing when she's angry, @franzliszt-official)

....

„Hey, what's Tannhäuser about again?“

„Well, there's Tannhäuser and he's a great musician and all that.  And then he comes to the Venusberg and lets the goddess of love give him a good shagging. And afterwards he feels like shit and wants to ask the Pope for forgiveness. Then there's Elisabeth, who he actually finds quite nice, and a lame scene with a singing quarrel so that he can finally marry the tart. But as Tannhäuser can only sing about dirt, everyone wants to kill him. And then Elisabeth becomes an angel and everyone else is like: Whhhhhhaaaat? And the Pope doesn't forgive him either. And then his colleague Wolfram comes and says: Heeey, Tannhäuser, don't go straight back to tackling Venus. And he realises that and then everyone dies....

So, applied to the life of Franz Liszt, that means...“

„No. NO! NO! NO! We're not going to start looking for some pukey Liszt- allegories in Wagner operas again!!!! You really need to be around people more! I really can't take another day of this.

Ey!

WHO ACTUALLY CAME UP WITH THE TOPICS HERE?

THE ONLY SIN AND SHAME SHOULD BE THAT LISZT STILL SUPPORTED THIS SELF-IMPORTANT WAGNER RUBBISH!

HOW STUPID CAN SOMEONE BE? HOW COULD HE ALLOW HIMSELF TO BE TAKEN FOR A RIDE LIKE THAT? AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF, THIS DISGUSTING PIECE OF WAGNER ALSO BANGED LISZT'S DAUGHTER!

GOD!

I SWEAR; IT'S ALL DOWN TO THE INFLUENCE OF THAT STUPID  SAYN -WITTGENSTEIN!!!

THIS STUPID BIGOTRY!

AND WHAT KIND OF FUCKED-UP STORY IS THIS FOR AN OPERA ANYWAY????

IT MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL!!!!

BOAH; I COULD GET SO ANGRY!!!!!

ARE WE HERE THE GLAD-HANDER OF RICHARD WAGNER NOW? I DON'T THINK SO!!!! I DON'T THINK SO!

AND I REALLY DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT ALLEGORIES OF FRANZ LISZT'S LIFE CAN BE FOUND IN IT!

EVERYONE FIND ANOTHER HOBBY! KNITTING OR SOMETHING! IKEBANA!!!!

FOR REAL!

NONE OF THIS IS HEALTHY ANYMORE!!!!!

F***********K!