Klaus Nomi is all too often rendered a footnote in musical history, a quirk in queer culture’s lineage, as his musical outpourings veered from the sublime to the ridiculous. He’s there, lurking like a camp Zelig figure on the disco dancefloors along with his more respected peers, or wiggling on TV behind Bowie like a bizarre Pierrot in fetish tux.
But the German singer was a true pioneer. he studied theatre and became a fixture on the East Village scene, hanging out with Anya Phillips, Ann Magnusson and Jean Michel Basquiat. His operatic countertemor vocal scaled buildings,and he often merged opera with disco in a kitschy way, when the world just wasn’t ready. “Ding dong, the witch is dead”, he trilled, or homaged ‘Just One Look’ with a series of delighted squeals. ‘Simple Man’ is a glorious album, a frothy confection of raised eyebrow bangers falling between Studio 54 and Looney Tunes.
He could also break your heart. His version of Purcell’s funereal ‘Cold Song’ is goosebump-inducing. The clown could swim in icy waters. He had a six octave range and sweet yet otherworldly presence that brought shivers to the audience. Sadly, he died of AIDS related complications in 1983, but his unique, idiosyncratic legacy remains. ‘Do You Nomi?’ was a brilliant recent theatre production created by Grant Smeaton in Glasgow, which paid tribute to this exceptional man, finally putting him in the spotlight where he belonged.
Hit The North 