"Nichts geht ohne Liebe" sung by Armin Kämpf & Gollasch's Orchestra - Charleston 45rpm disc record

"Nothing Works without Love" is a bit inane, but for Armin Kämpf, it almost seems autobiographical. Composer Gerhard Anders wrote various Schlager melodies, plus accompanying performing groups on piano. Lyricist Arnold Bormann was visibly more prolific in terms of how many songs he wrote lyrics for, though he passed away a decade after this disc was released. This ca. 1959/1960 Amiga record is one of their collaborations.

Poor Armin Kaempf, though...as his name says, his life was a struggle. Native to Leipzig, he started as a piano sideman, a writer at Leipzig Radio, as well as a vocalist with Kurt Henkels and the Leipzig Radio Dance Orchestra. Ominously, he somehow wound up in the crosshairs of the East German authorities, was supposedly imprisoned in 1951, then was released to West Germany. This foreshadowed later problems...
A bit like the part-time athlete Klaus Gross, Kämpf was a tennis player [1950 Leipzig city champion] and even ice skater. He became an impresario with Garmisch-Partenkirchen Ice Revue, based in Switzerland, and he auditioned to be in "Holiday on Ice". He made the cut and toured internationally with them for several years, but left the show upon hearing a voice on radio he had to meet...

Bärbel Wachholz, an up-and-coming singer, was the woman behind that voice. Kämpf practically fell in love a first sight, and became her manager, mentor, and constant companion. His impresario skills went to great use, and he planned, directed, and starred in numerous events showcasing Wachholz's singing and acting skills. They married in 1962, and continued as a power-couple for several years.
Wachholz had been touted as not being a "brat, diva, or bombshell - just a normal person with a natural voice" on West German record ads, made prior to the Berlin Wall. She had toured internationally; her stardom crossed borders. By the 1960s, she supposedly had the patronage of Willi Stoph, East Germany's prime minister at the time. She was considered loyal enough to not have the harsh travel restrictions of everyday citizens.
However, she was well aware of her status and sought to exploit it, regardless of how she started out. Those close to her claimed she demanded equal perks as those at the top, was denied, and her retort was "if I don't get what I want, I'll just leave for the West". This led to immediate reprisals; her status plummeted as her records were withdrawn from circulation, television and live appearances canceled, and she was treated much harsher. She didn't have anything to defend herself with, like Manfred Krug had. Where was Armin in all of this?
He was loyally by her side. He was harassed and banned from singing in any language but German, and soon stopped performing and recording. While not timely, it wouldn't take much to claim that his international travel and [brief] association with "traitor" Kurt Henkels [from Solingen in the West, not Leipzig] would add to the list of problems.
His wife began having health problems, and sank into alcoholism. Armin was considered pliable enough to be allowed various management roles in the East German entertainment industry.
By the 1970s, her attempts at a comeback were faltering, and she succumbed to illness [I've read cancer, even] in 1984. Kaempf's spirit was crushed permanently.
Perhaps he was considered broken enough that he could be plied. Maybe his friends in the industry vouched for him, as Kaempf was allowed to co-found, organize, and mentor a new Leipzig Salon Orchestra in the late 1980s. This proved useful later...
In 1990, a bit after the fall of the Berlin Wall, Kaempf used his impresario talents in a career highlight of German reunification. He successfully brought Caterina Valente and Helmut Zacharias to the stage of the Volksbühne Berlin, with the orchestra conductors Jürgen Hermann and Günter Gollasch. While Kaempf's career had declined much earlier than others, it didn't fully fizzle out, and he celebrated his 50th year on radio in 1998. By his death in 2007, maybe we could say he came back in the 1980s and 1990s, and finally won the battle.

One should be forgiven for thinking Günter Gollasch was Amiga's house conductor. He technically wasn't, but his near-constant appearance as the bandleader on records was probably due to his prominence in East Berlin, and easy access to the main recording studio. This ramped up after Kurt Henkels left the GDR in 1959, as his Leipzig Radio Dance Orchestra had effectively functioned as an Amiga house ensemble before then. Gollasch stepped in, became even more prolific and maintained a reputation beyond the borders of the GDR, both east and west of it.
His ensemble, also performing as the Berlin Radio Dance Orchestra, was responsible for hundreds of light music and jazz recordings, plus numerous accompaniments like this.