At the height of his fame, it was believed that Marius Müller-Westernhagen must have a lackey who would constantly applaud him. In the documentary “Keine Zeit” by DA Pennebaker, you see Westernhagen’s wife tying his shoes instead. And on the highway he hears the distant cheering in the stadium he left long ago.
That was in 1996, after the albums “Hallelujah” and “Affentheater” were huge successes. It was at least Westernhagen’s second career. In the 1950s he appeared on stage alongside his father in Düsseldorf and was discovered as a child actor on television in the early 1960s. The father, a war-torn drinker, died early. Marius grew up among women. He played young rascals in the not-so-new cinema of the late 60s and 70s.
In the early 1970s he lived in a shared apartment in Hamburg with Udo Lindenberg and Otto Waalkes. Lindenberg explained to him in a rowing boat on the Alster how he wanted to make his first million. Westernhagen also wanted to make music, signed a contract with Warner and released “Das Erste Mal”, a record that fluctuates between ballads and sassy rock. After two more albums, “With Peppermint, I’m Your Prince” was released in 1978, a record that was incredibly successful even for the time. No more shared apartments.
He had appeared in films by Tankred Dorst and Margarethe von Trotta when Peter F. Bringmann gave him the role of his life in 1979: “Theo Against the Rest of the World” is a German road movie, a highway comedy in which two men and a woman Driving from Germany to Italy in search of a truck. One could also say exaggeratedly: an educational novel. You could see the baggy Theos in tight blue jeans at every rest stop, gas station and bar. Theo also became a burden to Marius.
But now, of all times, the records didn’t do so well anymore, even though they were very good: “Geiler ist’ noch” (1983) and “Die Sonne so rot” (1984) were only popular with cultural journalists. “Westernhagen” (1987) was at least number 21 in the charts. But two years later, with “Hallelujah” and the singles “Because I love you” and “Sexy,” Westernhagen became perhaps the biggest pan-German rock star alongside such tribunes as Herbert Grönemeyer, Wolfgang Niedecken and Peter Maffay. And his older song “Freiheit” became the hymn of those years. Even today, Westernhagen’s now quiet performance of this song at the end of his concerts is moving.
He gave up the stadium concerts, or the stadium concerts gave up on him, and he also didn’t like acting anymore after “The Snowman,” even though he would be great in older roles. He re-recorded “Peppermint” with new arrangements in the USA and hired the musicians he had always admired. He used to be a bit loud-mouthed, even megalomaniac. Now he is, well: conciliatory. A German artist who would have liked to escape Germany. But he always came back.
Today, December 6th, Marius Müller-Westernhagen turns 75 years old.