The camera looks over the audience that was filled the Theatre Lufttanz in Berlin, Germany. Many of them of milling around, talking, drinking. As the camera makes its way through the crowd, many people look towards the wave or blow kisses.
“Are you ready for Ada?” The camera man asks one of the girls wearing an “I Heart ADA” shirt.
“Fuck yeah!” She says enthusiastically and she and her friends behind her cheer.
The scene changes to backstage, where Ada stands back, putting on her lipstick in a mirror.
“I do not use a makeup person or hair professional,” She explains to the camera as she purses her lips.
“They do not know me like I know me. I know how my hair and face should look…” Ada looks at the camera and smiles.
“I try not to look fake. I want my fans to see the real me, not what somebody can make me into.”Somebody comes into the dressing room and whispers,
“Three minutes, Miss. von Wannemaker,” to which Ada replies,
“Danke,” and turns back to the mirror, flipping her hair over her shoulders. She turns back to the camera and winks.
“Show time!” ------
The camera is back in the crowd, filming the stage, which has only a microphone set up in the front middle of it. The house lights of the theatre go out and a roar erupts from the crowd as Ada walks on to the stage, her guitar in hand.
“Hallo!” She says, waving as the crowd as the cheering grows louder. She beams at her fans as she makes her way to behind the microphone. Somebody in the crowd throws a bouquet of roses at her feet. Ada picks them up and sniffs them.
“Lovely, liebling, but I have not even started playing yet! What if I am shit?” She says to the crowd, unsure of who threw the flowers in the first place. The crowd gives a disapproving tone, which makes Ada smile as she goes into her first song.
I have got you
You have got whatever is left of me to get
Our conversations are like minefields
No one has found a safe way through one yet
You spend a lot of money
You buy me white gold
We raise up a little roof
Against the cold
On the Duke of Winchester
Where at night, the stars blow like milk across the sky
Where the high wire drops
Where the fat crows fly
All night long, we giggle and scream
Your brown eyes, deeper than a dream
I am not going to lose you
Through we may never get married
In this house like a Louisiana graveyard
Where nothing stays buried
On the Duke of Winchester
Where the dead will walk again
Put on their Sunday best
And go with unsuspecting Christian men
La la la la la!
Her song finishes and the crowd screams.
“Danke, danke…” She says in the mic quietly, blushing, still not used to her fans yet. She takes a deep breath in and starts her next song.
“Last night, I could almost hear the rhythm section kick in as the sun began to blaze,” Ada speaks, and the crowd cheers, knowing that her song,
Berlin Bay, starts off with her speaking.
“I saw you walk across the plaza. Figured I would just play it like it lays… Ja, ja, ja… I think I am going to be really sick again. I think it is going to happen really soon. And I know I cannot afford another night here in this place, with its sixteen floor view of the ocean and the dunes. And it is going to be just you and me today, waiting for the other shoe to drop on the Berlin Bay. I can hear the roar of the crowd in the stadium a couple blocks away. It is the kind of thing that used to get me all worked up…”Ada begins to play her guitar, singing the next part as some of the members of the audience join in with her.
But I do not want to talk about it now, okay? Okay. Okay.
I just want to get this whole thing over with
I do not want to deal with it anymore.
I hear the cogs all slipping at the same time
And then I see you walk in through the door
And it is going to be just you and me today.
She stops playing the guitar, and speaks the final line:
“Waiting for the other shoe to drop on the Berlin Bay.”The crowd cheers, and Ada nods a thank you to them.
“This next song I wrote with meine husband, Erich Hess, a few days before we got married. On my debut album, ADA, it is sang with both of us, but he could not come with me today, so I will sing it alone. So sorry,” She giggles and begins playing the slower song.
My love is like a powder key
My love is like a powder key in the corner of an empty warehouse
Somewhere just outside of town
About to burn down
My love is like a Cuban plane
My love is like a Cuban plane, flying from Havana
Up the Florida coast to the ‘Glades
Soviet made
Our love is like the border between Greece and Albania
Our love is like the border between Greece and Albania
Trucks loaded down with weapons
Crossing over every night
Moon yellow and bright
There is a shortage in the blood supply
But there is no shortage of blood
The way I feel about you, liebling, I cannot explain it
You have got the best of my love
Ada appears to be tearing up near the end as she wipes her eyes, the crowd cheering for her.
“One last song,” She says, forcing a smile.
“I wrote this my last year of college while doing my senior project. It is called Dvorak.” The crowd roars as she goes into the song.
Clear sky over Berlin
A warm wind
Dvorak on the short wave
Clear signal coming in.
La la la
La la la la la la
La la la
La la la la la la la
Long vowels spill like liquid from your mouth
I hang on every word you say
An army of transistor radios on the bookshelf, left on all day
Let them play, ja, let them play on and on and on
Let them all play longer and louder and long after you are gone
La la
La la la la la la
La la
La la la la la
Clear sky sheltering our fragile little house
Listening to the radio all the time
Your hand on meine forehead, as though to check for a fever
Ja, big plans in mind
La la la la
La la la la la
La la la la
La la la la la la
La la
La la la la la la
La la
By the end of the song, the crowd has begun to join in with Ada, singing the “la’s” as she begins to finish the song. “All of you are so beautiful,” She says in the mic, starting to tear up again.
“I love every single one of you, and thank you for coming to the show. Good night!”