Original released on limited vinyl LP CBS
(South Africa, 1976)
First regular
release of the soundtrack to the famous banned South African movie "Snake
Dancer" from 1976 starring Glenda Kemp. A rare find with excellently
produced Disco Funk, Bossa Jazz and Soft Rock, composed by Zane Cronje and
Charles Segal. "Glenda" was first published in 1976 and censored
immediately by the repressive SA government as a product of Western Decadence.
On May 15th 2009, the soundtrack saw its first regular international release on
CD and limited vinyl LP plus mp3 album (Sonorama C-/L-41). As one of the
world's most repressive governments, 1970's South Africa was not a place to be
artistically different. The "Snake Dancer" movie stands out as a
cultural snapshot and government bashing call for personal freedom. This
corresponding soundtrack album is a terrific exploitation discovery aswell.
"Snake Dancer" narrates a dramatic exploration of liberty, recounting
an erotic dancer's "career" against a crucial regime within a
semi-biographical and half documentary script. South Africa had become a British
colonial outpost, which yielded to Dutch "Afrikaans" sovereignty in
the 1960s and the repressive racial segregation of Apartheid. When former
teacher Glenda Kemp turned to stripping to work her way through college,
uptight South African audiences were scandalized by her exotic routines and
particularly by her nude python dance.
The movie
tells her story and with Kemp playing herself, the film re-creates incidents
from the dancer's life, including the government's efforts to ban her
performances. That a young woman was able to prosper as a stripper under
Apartheid, where such forms of entertainment were strictly banned, and became
famous in her country, makes the story endearing despite the cheaply made
screen production. The government tried to censor her, the church condemned her
and her own fiancée disapproved. But Glenda dances on to her own beat. The true
story of resistance is told t hrough short dialogues and authentic newspaper
clippings. A supposedly devout Christian, Glenda felt there was nothing wrong
with her erotic, oiled-up s nake routines. But with the regime controlled by
the Calvinist Dutch Reforms
Church, all films with
sex and politics were heavily censored. And with furious prudes and undercover
cops crashing her show, Glenda Kemp was effectively forced into an early
retirement.
There are
many surprisingly different sides to the soundtrack. Most of the arrangements
capture the harsh glare and heat of erotic live club performances, evoking a
liberated but "vulgar" atmosphere, that probably many young South
Africans were longing for during the 1970s. The funk and disco inspired tracks
still have the ability to rock clubs around the world today, thanks to the
extraordinary ideas and studio skills of producer Zane Cronje. The score
implies to the knowing listener that some sort of dancing action may be
forthcoming and most of the tunes have a strangely yearning quality throughout.
And there is a glorious pop appeal on some of the songs due to the vocals of a
female background choir, with panoramic strings and brass attached, interrupted
by afro pop, harsh psychedelic guitar riffs or afro pop drumming with heavy
bass sounds, plus some lovely piano jazz and bossa nova inspired tracks
inbetween.
Zane Cronje
and Charles Segal employ many hip sounds from the U.S.A.
or Europe in a technically perfect manner.
Some of the impressionistic sound colours seem to be inspired by the big French
and Italian Soundtrack works of the 60s and beginning 70s. The lilting lounge
sounds serve as links between the hip shaking vocal tracks, that surround the
bizarre dance routines of snake dancer Glenda during the movie. But how to come
correct with an entertainment soundtrack in a country of repressive
governmental institutions? The film depicts a political culture that saw
nothing immoral in owning human beings and whose greatest fear was that someone
might be enjoying themselves. Consequently the movie became a forbidden subject
and was never shown in mainstream cinemas. But with further-reaching bans in
effect, the South African underground cinemas flourished with so-called
"tea rooms", that offered films, food and drink for low prices. Due
to its special history of production, the rise of independently produced
filmmaking and the invention of the worldwide web, "Glenda" became a
unique cult movie today not only in secret tea rooms around the world.
At the time
of production the movie failed to start a fire because of many reasons. Due to
strict censorship within South
Africa, de Villiers' film was snipped of all
its nudity or sexual situations and consequently failed in his own country. The
movie director had no more luck selling the film abroad, as hard-core
pornography ruled the scene by mid-decade. A few promotional soundtrack LPs
were pressed on CBS/ South
Africa and sent out to international
publishers and distributors, unfortunately without any success. An unplayed
copy of the impossible to find album was recently discovered in the huge archives
of a German publisher and the license owner Charles Segal gave his permission
to an international (re-)release. Finally all tracks were carefully remastered
from the vinyl copy in 2009 due to the complete loss of the master tapes.
The film
was released in 2006 by "Mondo Macabro" but the quality of picture
and sound is not perfect because the original 35 mm elements were unavailable.
Nevertheless the DVD is strongly recommended, featuring an exclusive Interview
with director Villiers, which covers his career in depth, including his
personal thoughts on the feature and the world of film-making in general. He
discusses his early films, the financial difficulty working in South Africa,
and how political pressure effected the movie industry. His memories are
rounded out with memories of Glenda and the very real controversy that
surrounded her at the time. Former South African snake celebrity Glenda Kemp is
now a teacher again, more religious than ever, living in the outskirts of Durban.
A happily
misleading title - these are (as ought to be obvious given the tracklisting)
exotic electronic interpretations of well-known classical standards, and they
have absolutely zero to do with rock music. The interesting thing is that they
also have very little to do with Wendy Carlos or anyone else doing synthetic
art music at the time; Baxter's pop sensibilities have never been keener and by
isolating and reiterating the most iconic themes from these compositions he
converts them into dancy hooks and insistent jingles. The percussion
arrangements are nothing unusual for an exotica record but occasionally quite
stunning paired with the Moog. You might call Baxter lazy or deceptive for
playing the polyphonic bits on a transistor organ instead of overdubbing the synth
but the effect is quite ethereal and pleasant. If anything could ever get me
seriously interested in exploring romantic-era Western art music, this album is
it! The sound is not excelent, 'cause it was ripped from an original vinyl copy, but is good enough for you to listen to this rare album. There's a copy in CD, but it's a very expensive one.
