The tear-jerker of a letter below was written by a World War II veteran named Brian Keith to another soldier, known only as “Dave.” The two began their romance in 1943 while stationed in North Africa together. This letter commemorated that anniversary.

It was first re-printed for wide distribution in 1961, by pioneering gay publication, ONE Magazine. But this love letter could very well have never seen the light of day. ONE put out their first issue in 1953, and brazenly sold on the streets of Los Angeles. In 1954 the magazine faced obscenity charges from the U.S. Post Office Department. They sued, and in 1958, won in a Supreme Court trial that set new legal precedent for First Amendment protections. ONE Magazine ran until 1967.

Dear Dave,

This is in memory of an anniversary — the anniversary of October 27th, 1943, when I first heard you singing in North Africa. That song brings memories of the happiest times I’ve ever known. Memories of a GI show troop — curtains made from barrage balloons — spotlights made from cocoa cans — rehearsals that ran late into the evenings — and a handsome boy with a wonderful tenor voice. Opening night at a theatre in Canastel — perhaps a bit too much muscatel, and someone who understood. Exciting days playing in the beautiful and stately Municipal Opera House in Oran — a misunderstanding — an understanding in the wings just before opening chorus.

Drinks at “Coq d’or” — dinner at the “Auberge” — a ring and promise given. The show 1st Armoured — muscatel, scotch, wine — someone who had to be carried from the truck and put to bed in his tent. A night of pouring rain and two very soaked GIs beneath a solitary tree on an African plain. A borrowed French convertible — a warm sulphur spring, the cool Mediterranean, and a picnic of “rations” and hot cokes. Two lieutenants who were smart enough to know the score, but not smart enough to realize that we wanted to be alone. A screwball piano player — competition — miserable days and lonely nights. The cold, windy night we crawled through the window of a GI theatre and fell asleep on a cot backstage, locked in each other’s arms — the shock when we awoke and realized that miraculously we hadn’t been discovered. A fast drive to a cliff above the sea — pictures taken, and a stop amid the purple grapes and cool leaves of a vineyard.

The happiness when told we were going home — and the misery when we learned that we would not be going together. Fond goodbyes on a secluded beach beneath the star-studded velvet of an African night, and the tears that would not be stopped as I stood atop the sea-wall and watched your convoy disappear over the horizon.

We vowed we’d be together again “back home,” but fate knew better — you never got there. And so, Dave, I hope that wherever you are these memories are as precious to you as they are to me.

Goodnight, sleep well my love.

Brian Keith

Goldfrapp’s moving “Clay” from their latest long-player, Tales of Us, is based on the letter. Here they are on Later… with Jools Holland performing the number:
 

 
Via Letters of Note

 
2003 doesn’t seem that long ago. However, ten years is easily a good musical generation ago. Then, in my capacity as Mute Record’s in-house artist development consultant, I was amongst a half-dozen souls in Mute’s NYC offices readying initial setup for Goldfrapp’s second album, Black Cherry. I’d soon learn it was a radical about-face from their Felt Mountain debut – a pattern Goldfrapp would repeat again and again.

A few years previous I had spent a serious amount of time immersed in Goldfrapp’s Mercury Prize-nominated Felt Mountain. The album’s cool take on space age pop, mined sources similar to a longtime personal fave, Portishead’s 1994 Dummy, but Goldfrapp’s results were far more enigmatic, more abstract, if perhaps a bit less focused. Definitely much more trip and a lot less hop.

With the arrival of Goldfrapp’s second album looming, the anticipation was palpable. Find yourself fortunate enough to work at one of the coolest labels ever, and Mute is most assuredly one of them, part of the thrill is you’ll never know exactly what you’re gonna get.

Expecting a kiss, I was hit instead with a brick. Nothing prepared me for the confident, unbridled sensuality and glam-romp electro-stomp of “Train.” (Inspired by its bawdy video I shipped a few dozen pasties out to programmers with CD singles & VHS clips to some success). Or the throbbing, Moroder-ing along “Strict Machine.” But the tune to stick with me the longest was the titular track, the elegiac “Black Cherry.” It wasn’t a stretch at all to imagine Prince covering it.

Black Cherry was the product of a band in full flower a musical lifetime ago.

“Drew” is the first single from Goldfrapp’s forthcoming sixth album, Tales Of Us, due out September 10th, 2013. Written and produced by the duo’s Alison Goldfrapp and
Will Gregory as per usual at their studio at some undisclosed location deep in the English countryside.

Goldfrapp just finished playing the second of two shows at the Manchester International Festival performing Tales Of Us live in its entirety backed by the Royal Northern College of Music string orchestra in a semi-restored church. The Somerset House on July 20th is up next followed by the headliner slot on Lovebox’s main stage on Sunday, July 21st. See here for a full list of live dates

Alison Goldfrapp’s partner, filmmaker Lisa Gunning, is making a film accompanying the Tales Of Us album, to shown in cinemas later this year. This NSFW clip for “Drew” is the first of at least nine more to follow.
 

 
Goldfrapp’s first single, 2000’s “Lovely Head,” taken from their debut album Felt Mountain (it’s also the lead-off number), is one of my favorite, favorite songs. The whole Shirley Bassey/John Barry meets Ennio Morricone vibe, the catchy forlorn whistling melody—and the lyrics, those haunting, disturbing lyrics…

It starts in my belly
Then up to my heart
Into my mouth I can’t keep it shut
Do you recognize the smell
Is that how you tell
Us apart

...well, it’s pretty much the perfect pop song in my book. I can’t think of a stronger, more deliriously delicious way for Goldfrapp’s vision to have been unleashed on the world than with “Lovely Head.” Will Gregory’s impeccable arrangement is topped off with the black cherry of Alison Goldfrapp’s absolutely otherworldly dripping-with-weltschmerz mega-diva vocal performance. It’s genius stuff. (Here’s a link to the original Wolfgang Tillmans-directed music video).

But here’s the thing: I’ve listened to this song hundreds upon hundreds of times—many of them in the past week, just ask my long suffering wife!—but it wasn’t until I got the live Wonderful Electric DVD that I realized what I have long thought was a deftly executed Theremin solo, was, in fact, Alison Goldfrapp’s voice being manipulated by a vintage monophonic analog synthesizer, the Korg MS-20.

In the stunning live rendition of “Lovely Head”—shot at Somerset House in London in 2004—that starts below at 9:42, watch what happens when Alison Goldrapp grabs the second microphone. It’s a real showstopper and yet it’s only the third song in the set. The entire concert is an absolute knock out from start to finish. Highly recommended.