Composer Wolfgang Neumann: The musical chameleon – Starnberg

As a musician, he’s never been able to commit to one instrument or style, and somehow his living room fits that vagueness. Nothing is styled, nothing trimmed in one direction. There are two couches and two tables. Classical guitars, violin, ukulele and drum cymbals hang on the wall, in the left corner there is a beautiful old farmer’s cupboard made of pine wood, next to it a Fender amplifier and a chest of drawers with a record player, amplifier and CD shelf. And right in the middle sits Wolfgang Neumann on a worn blue leather armchair. The man looks almost like a character from the days when folk music was booming and groups like that Biermösl Blosn or Anderl Lechners Guglhupfa full of juice: formidable build, reddish hair, soft voice. When he laughs, his face immediately takes on a boyish quality. As soon as he speaks, you can hear the doubter and gentle revolutionary.

The multi-instrumentalist from Inning, who understands country just as much as he does heavy metal, techno, rock, world music, country music, flamenco or African folklore, precisely because he never wanted to decide on a single thing, is a great place to argue. Because Neumann tends to make astonishing explanations, often makes himself smaller than he is, and has a slight tendency to apodictic theses. He’s no longer a musician in that sense, he says, for example. He is a composer. Or rather: artisan and musical service provider. Or: There are no longer any guitarists who could make a living from their performances. Yes, and the truth is unfortunately also that he “never succeeded as an artist”. The 65-year-old later added: “I would have liked to have had success like Billie Eilish. I wasn’t granted it.”

Always half long: Neumann was part of the “Die Meiers” trio for ten years, which became one of the most successful music cabaret groups at the end of the 1980s, and completed more than 1100 performances in Germany and Austria with Werner Meier and Rudi Zapf. Played briefly embryo mit, the collective of jazz rockers and world musicians, and the CubaBoarian from the Rosenheim region. Was on stage with the grandiose Gerhard Polt and the dulcimer virtuoso Zapf when the Biermösl Blosn didn’t have time. Went on tour worldwide for the Goethe-Institut with the project “Never Been There”, again together with Zapf. Composed more than 1000 pieces, including the music for around 120 television films. Moved with Otto Göttlers Bavarian Diatonic Jodenwahnsinn through the lands. And, here it comes: From 1990 to 2010 he was musical director of the “Komödienstadels” on BR television.

“I did it because I needed the money”https://www.sueddeutsche.de/muenchen/starnberg/.”

Does that mean you have to go in sackcloth and ashes? Of course not. Of course, for a former singer of the Windsbach Boys’ Choir and graduate of the Richard Strauss Conservatory in Munich, there could have been more attractive tasks than playing and composing yodels and country dances for country theater. On the other hand, in Neumann’s time, there were wonderful folk actors on this stage: Toni Berger, Max Grieser, Erni Singerl, Willy Harlander, Hans Clarin and Dieter Fischer. And the “Komödienstadel” combo not only brought out songs with umpftata, but also sophisticated ones. Especially since excellent musicians belonged to the group, such as the saxophonist and clarinettist Hans Förg from the CubaBoarischen. But Neumann only says: “I did it because I needed the money. But I hated it. If someone had told me at 18 that I was doing 20 years of comedy service, I would have been ashamed.”

Open detailed view

Only an hour and a half later does he admit: Yes, well, at least he met the singers back then. And also Master Eder and his Pumuckl: Neumann showed Hans Clarin, who as dubbing actor made the goblin giggle, squawk, screech and compose as he has to dance on television. And Gustl Bayrhammer, who played master carpenter Eder in the television series? He worked with him in the Volkstheater because he also made theater music.

At heart he is a revolutionary, says Neumann. Along with Rio Reiser, Konstantin Wecker and Ulrich Bassenge, the native of Munich was one of the composers who set the film “Split Processes – Wackersdorf 001” by Claus Strigel and Bertram Verhaag to music. And this documentary certainly contributed to the fact that in the end nuclear fuel rods from nuclear power plants did not end up in the Upper Palatinate, believes Neumann. But when his first of three children was born, his principles and socially critical attitude were over. From then on he had to support a family, and there was a lot of money to be made with BR and ZDF.

Neumann has been working in the recording studio since he started out with the Weßlingen rock band tram Charmed. Bonzo Keil, the group’s founder and longtime companion of the singing butcher Tiger Willi from Steinebach am Wörthsee, was looking for a bassist at the end of the seventies. The then 20-year-old Neuman, who later studied guitar, piano and dulcimer in Munich, got the job even though he couldn’t actually play the bass. He was with the formation for four or five years, which mainly covered songs. “Bonzo was a genius at re-enactment,” says Neumann about the guitarist who died in 2006, “he played Jimi Hendrix that you thought Hendrix was on stage.” At the time, he was also living in Bonzo’s WG in Oberpfaffenhofen, an old villa with 14 rooms. And because professional recordings were expensive, the band came up with the idea of ​​founding their own recording studio called “Echo”. The first and only tram record and albums with rebellious folk music were created there, the Bavarian blues band Williams Wetsox from Huglfing and the Cologne Women’s Orchestra recorded in Oberpfaffenhofen.

Open detailed view

Neumann has long since piled up the equipment he has collected from 30 years of recording studio work in a small basement room in his house in Bachern am Wörthsee. He’s sitting there in his red shoes and baggy blue pants with suspenders that look like he’s about to go skiing afterwards, like in an airplane cockpit: computer screens, keyboards, EQs and preamps with lights and gauges are almost up all around him built at head height. Neumann says: “the workshop of a musical service provider”. For the photographer, he pulls out the dobro, a resonator guitar, and drums devotedly on a green, shimmering metal handpan. Next door are the cello and piano, and there are at least 50, maybe even 100 instruments spread throughout the house. He is currently working on the music for “Sons Of Sindbad”, a documentary series directed by Friedel Klütsch and destined for television in Oman. Because Neumann understands 1001 sounds, he’s a composer “whom you can’t categorize”. Bonzo Keil, who incidentally once discovered the old farmer’s cupboard made of pine wood and gave it to his bass player, called it “a musical chameleon”.

“For me it’s about the message”

The 65-year-old now allows himself the luxury of producing what he enjoys: meditation music, for example, and songs with a message that impale injustice or address climate change. That’s what it’s all about in the end: “For me it’s about the message.” And one of his dreams is to someday travel to Africa and play there with local musicians. Wolfgang Neumann, the multi-instrumentalist, who is musically adept at all things, the man who could never or would not decide on just one thing, makes an exception: “African folklore, for me that’s soul food.”