The Model
You inspired thousands of photographers, kept the media busy with your private life, had that awful boy friend I’d have strangled with my bare hands with delight, and are the metaphor for the greatest clubland anthems of all times…
For this adopted Londoner, you are the best of England, the real product of this tiny island, the daughter of this frustrating, attractive and abominable city where I live. You still turn heads in the streets, and no, you can’t really compete with the sculptural Italians, the colossal Germans and the tall North Americans, but you are, to my mind, without competitors, in a class of your own. You are the Model.
She’s a model and she’s looking good
I’d like to take her home that’s understood
She plays hard to get, she smiles from time to time
It only takes a camera to change her mind
She’s going out tonight but drinking just champagne
And she has been checking nearly all the men
She’s playing her game and you can hear them say
She is looking good, for beauty we will pay
She’s posing for consumer products now and then
For every camera she gives the best she can
I saw her on the cover of a magazine
Now she’s a big success, I want to meet her again…
[Kraftwerk: the Model, 1982]