Our First Record Cover – The Hypnotist

The Hypnotist - Rainbows In The Sky

Thanks to Laiki Kostis, whom I’d first met back in 1985 at his “Buy or Die” record store in Wiesbaden, Germany, Caroline and I were commissioned to create a digital record cover that Laiki needed for a new “White Label” he had in his possession. The record was from a guy who was a rising star with his project “A Homeboy, A Hippie, and a Funki Dredd,” and it was exploring a different sound. The project was called “The Hypnotist,” and the tracks were titled “Death By Dub” and “Rainbows In The Sky.” It was Death By Dub on the B Side that caught my attention, but I had to explain to Laiki that I had no experience using the computer for making graphics. He explained that I was the only person he knew with a computer and that he didn’t care what we did; he just knew he needed to release this with cover art as he felt he had a hit.

So this is our first record cover, and it opened the door to making even more covers for people all over the place, but I will forever be grateful to Laiki for the opportunity and to Caspar Pound for making such an amazing couple of tracks. Today was the day the record was officially released.

Caroline Engelhardt in America – 1991

Caroline Wise in San Francisco, California 1991

Caroline Engelhardt, four years before we were married on her first trip to America. This photo was taken shortly after landing at the San Francisco International Airport in San Francisco. We picked up a Lincoln Towncar land yacht for some idiotic reason and headed directly for Stockton and Broadway to find parking so we could go to City Lights Bookstore. I had an appointment with the most important location in this city by the bay that played such an important role regarding the poetry and writings of the Beat Generation.

John Wise and Caroline Wise in San Francisco, California 1991

After picking up a few books and a tip of a place to eat, we headed around the corner to have some seriously amazing Chinese food compared to what we knew in Germany. The place was called Brandy Ho’s Hunan Food, and in the years that followed after moving to America, we’d eat there a few more times for the nostalgic value of reliving our first couple of hours in California. After lunch, we explored Chinatown in a jetlagged daze.

John Wise in San Francisco, California 1991

We were in America largely for business as Caroline and I worked for a white box PC manufacturer in Frankfurt, Germany. With family in California, our trip also took us to points south, but that was after wandering around San Francisco, San Jose, and a quick hop down to Monterey, California, where I watched Caroline cry as she gazed upon the Pacific Ocean.

Caroline Wise in San Francisco, California 1991

We only spent a couple of weeks over here, and most of it is lost in the blur of time. If we had taken more photos, they are now lost, but the overall impressions of this visit to California were impactful and began Caroline’s relationship with America as a place beyond the movies she grew up with.

Caroline Engelhardt and John Wise in San Francisco, California

Edit: This wasn’t part of the original post, but I had to add it as this was our second selfie after taking our first in a window in Munich, Germany, back in 1989.

Birthday Gift

Birthday gift from Caroline Engelhardt to John Wise in Frankfurt, Germany 1990

This was a part of the gift Caroline Engelhardt gave to me for celebrating my first birthday with her since we started dating. While Caroline was at the Psychic TV concert last year in the early hours of the 4th, we weren’t interested in each other at that time, and hence, I don’t think I even pointed out that it was my birthday. I turned 27 on this day, and besides the much-needed shoes (mine were falling apart), she also gave me some balloons that sat on top of a cabinet near the hall door so I could see them all the time. This is also the very first post I’m making after starting to scan in our archive of materials here at the end of August 2018.

Those balloons stayed there and, for years, still had a tiny bit of air left in them in 1995. We finally got rid of them when we moved to the United States in April of that year.

Schnecke

Caroline Under The Cabbage Leaf

Caroline’s nickname from her mom is “Schnecke,” meaning snail. This came about due to her older sister being a quick birth, with Stephanie racing around becoming “Maus” or mouse, and Caroline being a slow birth and taking her time to get to things. Not long after we met, I found this panel from Gary Larson and his comic The Far Side in a newspaper and immediately saw her and her father in this image. This was supposed to be framed decades ago, but instead, it sat in a crate of our belongings, growing yellow with time.

Caroline Concerts 1983 to 1989

It was my idea to digitally capture all of our old printed material so we could toss these box-filling artifacts into the bin of refuse that would be hauled off, thus lightening our load. Then, a couple of years after that exercise, I finally discovered the wherewithal to drag this stuff up to the online world where sharing can happen.

Caroline’s first concert without her mom in attendance was when she was 14 years old, back on March 13, 1982. She went to the Festhalle in Frankfurt, a large arena, where she saw Barclay James Harvest.

Her first “gig” was at the Batschkapp on the 11th of May, 1983 (though there is some chance it was 1982), where she went to see Téléphone. This band hailed from Paris, France, and, to the best of my knowledge, was unknown in America. From here forward, we’ll need Caroline to share her memories regarding these days.

I used to go to concerts long before running into John. Frankfurt has always had a lot of things going on, and back in the day, I was interested in all sorts of music, from classical to folk to electronic music and punk rock. There were no curfews enforced when I was a teenager, so I was able to go and see bands without adult chaperones, although initially, I often went with my sister and/or friends. My first show at the Batschkapp (Telephone), I attended with my sister and her mates and my friend Silke from Kronberg who probably slept over at my place afterward. The Batschkapp was a great place for alternative music and also hosted a weekly “disco” night called Idiot Ballroom; at some point, my friend group would meet there regularly to hang out and be edge lords and ladies. At the same time, I was also interested in “mainstream” bands. The aforementioned Barclay James Harvest featured very big in my pre-teen years, and when they played in Frankfurt, my sister and I went to see them. My mother would go to classical and folk concerts with me, such as the Dubliners, but she drew the line at rock music (too loud!).

Going to a show at the Batschkapp was pretty reasonable (plus buying a ticket ahead of time often yielded a small discount), and I often went just because somebody recommended a band or performer or I had read about them in a music magazine. Some of the concerts I don’t remember at all, some I just have vague memories of. For example, I saw Murray Head because he had one big hit with “One Night in Bangkok” from the musical Chess, which I loved. The rest of his performance was apparently forgettable.

I think I saw Marillion with a guy that I had a crush on, but nothing happened with him. And the music was pretty nondescript, too. Sorry, Marillion fans.

In September 1986, my mates and I saw Wiseblood perform at the Wartburg in Wiesbaden. Lydia Lunch also did some spoken word gig and my (male) companions all had a thing going for her. I, meanwhile was fascinated by Jim Thirlwell of Wiseblood.

No memories of the Toten Hosen concert. I don’t even know why I went because, in my memories the Hosen (a German “fun punk” band) were already considered “sell-outs” by my group of friends.

Nick Cave, on the other hand, was a class act. Amazing, even though the fact that Blixa Bargeld from the band Einstuerzende Neubauten (also considered sell-outs) was in his band was a bit distracting.

Wolfgang Press 7 October 1986 in Wiesbaden, Germany

This could be the first time John and my paths crossed without consciously seeing each other. From the number of concerts both of us were attending, this must have happened another dozen times before we said hello.

Fuzzbox (a.k.a. “We’ve Got a Fuzzbox and We’re GonnaUse It”) was another one of my “guilty” pleasures, and I believe I saw them by myself. Basically, they were a fun punkish girl band in the tradition of Sigue Sigue Sputnik, meaning they didn’t really know how to play instruments when they started out but managed to have a couple of hits, like this one. There really weren’t a lot of girl bands around at the time, and their energy was great.

The UK Subs I went to see by myself because I had one of their records, but the show was lame. All I remember was thinking how “over it” they all looked. Considering they weren’t actually all that old at the time, it really drove the “punk is dead” idea home for me. They apparently are still active as of 2021.

Since I love Irish/Celtic folk, I also adore the Pogues, at least during the 80s when they were touring with Shane MacGowan as lead vocalist. The mosh pit at Pogues concerts was the place to be.

I’m pretty sure I remember seeing the Dubliners with my mother. I might even have bought the tickets for both of us. Come to think of it, Alte Oper used to put on some interesting shows, like the band Madness, which I saw with my friend Silke in December 1982, along with a few hundred skinheads. I remember standing on the expensive seating near the stage, and the band stopped playing at some point to break up a fight in the crowd.

I sort of remember seeing Ultravox, but they really only had a couple of hits, and I was never a huge fan.

I probably went to see the Peking Opera performers with my mother. The Jahrhunderthalle is a cool dome-like structure built in the early 1960s.

It turns out that John and I visited many of the same shows, having an eclectic taste in music, but it would be years before we’d ever see each other, even if the gig only had 50 people and a number of them left during the show because they were offended by video footage seemingly showing a castration.

Don’t remember much about the Goldenen Zitronen other than that they were (or are?) a “fun punk” band singing in German. Their “thing” at the time was taking popular songs and adding their own lyrics.

No clue… there may have been some local bands playing that I knew at the time.

Funny enough, I remember the Swans concert at the Batschkapp much more than the one at the Wartburg. Most likely, this was one of those times I was out with my mates.

No idea why I went to see Chrome. Probably, someone said they were worth seeing, and I had nothing better to do.

Zodiac Who?

Probably out with my mother again.

Definitely heading for the mosh pit with my friends for this one.

John and I were both at this show, but it was Jim Thirlwell who had my attention. This is the same guy I lusted over at the Wiseblood show a couple of years earlier. I was alone at the show and afterward worked up my courage to walk up to him to ask for a light for my cigarette. Those were the days…

Slawheads at Vobi 11 February 1989 in Frankfurt, Germany

Our paths crossed after a mutual friend of John, and I recommended I go say hi to the American with lamb chops and cowboy boots who was interested in photography and video, too. Nothing of attraction was had between the two of us, just a chance encounter.

Psychic TV 3 April 1989 at Cooky's in Frankfurt, Germany

It was about 3:00 in the morning on a Monday night that turned out to already be John’s birthday and I’d bump into him again. I was out seeing Psychic TV with my friend Angela, and the show was over, except John brought us backstage to meet the band, and my friend hit it off with the guitar player who ended up returning to Frankfurt after the tour, spending a couple of weeks with Angela.

Just two weeks after this show, John and I would find the first spark of a relationship following a show by the Pixies at Batschkapp. We were not there together; he ran into me just outside the Batschkapp, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Her Number and Wishes for Yummies

Caroline Engelhardt's First List of Wants from the PX

Just earlier today, after Caroline Engelhardt and I first kissed at 5:00 in the morning on Weberstraße around the corner from her apartment at Gluckstraße 8 in the north end of Frankfurt, I fell head over heels in love with her. Yes, it was just like that. From the first time we met at the Volksbildungsheim on Eschenheimer Anlage back on 11 February 1989 at a Slawheads concert and again running into her at a Die Form show, the Swans, and Psychic TV all on various dates between then and last night, I had no interest in her, nor do I believe she had an interest in me.

Turns out that we were both at the Pixies concert at the Batschkapp last night. I found it strange that we kept running into each other at so many concerts, so I took the time to sit down with her on the stairs of the overpass for the train, and we talked until it was too late to catch a train home. I offered to give her a ride. She invited me up to her apartment, and I don’t believe she had any intentions behind the invite other than being friendly. First, I was struck by the number of books she had and then by her record collection, she let me peruse. Turns out we share a lot of common interests.

Quickly, it seemed it was closing in on 5:00 a.m., and I had to go. She offered to walk me to my car as it had taken time to find a place, and she didn’t want me to get turned around in her neighborhood. I can’t tell you why I reached out to kiss her on the cheek and how it was that we met face-to-face, but we did. It was the most gentle, delicate kiss of my life. There were no slobbering tongues, no move to making out, just a sensually soft and brief kiss that rippled the fabric of my universe. I was stunned.

I drove home (that’s another story) and was smitten all the way there. After I woke, I frantically reached out to her, and we agreed to meet that afternoon; it was a Sunday. I couldn’t tell her that I’d gone off the deep end of love with her as I couldn’t know what she was feeling, and my situation was complicated, to say the least. So, trying to give reason to meet yet again, I asked if she’d like any American things from the military shopping area, also known as the PX (Post Exchange).

This is the list that she wrote to me, and in that snail she drew, I will forever see her smile.