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Hell, March, Metal: How Americans See Rammstein
ROLLING STONE archive: An article from 2012
One evening in February 1984 – to be precise, it was already early morning – I stood dangerously close to the stage of the “Danceteria”, the long-closed New York club, as if hypnotized by the raw mechanical power of the Einstreiche Neuhäusern. It was the Berlin band’s first appearance in the USA. And the radical ingenuity of their avant-rock collisions left a lasting impression on me. Blixa Cash’s guttural primal screams and bone-rattling riffs were fueled by syncopated rhythms. Which were generated on oil drums and dented metal sheets. It was the final act of a psychodrama that probably began at some point with Elvis and the Rolling Stones. But now it has been reduced to naked frenzy with merciless modernism and deafening noise.
As the last distorted clatter of “Drawings of the Patient OT” faded from the overwhelmed PA, I turned around and saw Alan Vega, the singing half of New York minimalists Suicide. He was grinning from ear to ear. “That wasn’t bad,” he said. “But we did that – on a smaller scale – ten years ago.”
15 years later I thought of this scene when I watched Rammstein’s first big New York concert in the “Hammerstein Ballroom” with the same excited anticipation. The six-member group from Berlin had previously played various showcases in the USA. 1997 at the “CMJ College Radio Conference”. And was part of the “Family Values” tour the following year. If you believed the word of mouth of the local headbangers, they were actually the “real deal” in this rap-metal package. Even though they were only listed in the line-up behind Korn and the rioters Limp Bizkit.
Like in a Wagner opera
The Germans came to their headlining debut in New York as expected from them. With a hell of a spectacle and a grim, militaristic demeanor. Laser pointers and fire columns illuminated a stage. It was crammed with so many pipes and scaffolding that an entire oil refinery could have been filled with it. The band, perfectly futuristically dressed, set in motion an oversized march & metal machine sprinkled with satanic synthesizer dust.
The singing fit in brilliantly with the dashing, commanding tone that – to American ears at least – seems almost inevitable with German lyrics. Singer Till Lindemann lacked any melody between his grunting primal sounds. With his melodramatic appearance, he also seemed like an opera singer. An opera singer from the loony bin. A man you should never say “no” to. When the guitarists Richard Z. Kruspe and Paul H. Landers joined in with the chant-like singing, one felt like they had been transported to a Wagner opera, for which Nine Inch Nails were hired as musical accompaniment.
Noise and fire magic
At the end of a decade in which supposed “modern rock” was worse than the mainstream, Rammstein were a refreshingly entertaining frontal attack. In the noise and fiery magic of their performance, one could definitely recognize their role models. I imagined Vega standing behind me again. Along with Cash, British doom punk forefathers Killing Joke, Ministry’s Al Jourgenson and the ’70s line-up of Faust. The first Germans who created a new rock out of Western beat, machine orchestration and Dada. And they all nodded and said: “Yes, that’s all very funny. But we did it back then. And back then it still had the aura of being risky and dangerous.”
That’s the problem with any cartoonish exaggeration – especially if you’re trying to hit the commercial jackpot with it: people forget the initial subversiveness. In 1996, early suitor Trent Reznor picked up two tracks from Rammstein’s debut “Herzeleid” for the soundtrack to David Lynch’s cryptic thriller “Lost Highway.” Other contributions on the album came from David Bowie and the Smashing Pumpkins, who were no less popular at the time. For Rammstein it was the “cool” seal of approval – and the door to America was thrown wide open.
But the “cool” factor would quickly fade again, not least triggered by the unexpected commercial success (unexpected, since the texts were, after all, German). The media was of course not interested in the sublime Rammstein messages, the paranoid self-doubt and the horror of complete isolation (perfectly realized in the early “Engel”), but rather pounced on their flamboyant appearance and the inevitable Nazi associations. When I saw Rammstein for the first time, they were already the industrial metal equivalent of the Scorpions, Germany’s most successful export in the genre. “Sehnsucht”, Rammstein’s second album from 1997, sold two million copies in the USA alone.
They are just later born
2001 came the band again to the “Hammerstein” and was honored with a celebrity finale at the end: Marky and CJ Ramone came on stage together with Jerry Only from the Misfits and tried their hand at “Pet Semetary” from the Ramones together. For the rest of the decade, Rammstein made themselves scarce in North America, but when they returned in 2010, arenas were packed to capacity. When they played Madison Square Garden in December, the audience even belted out their lyrics.
In a way, Rammstein also had to pay for this success. “Lend your ear to a legend,” sings Lindemann in “Rammlied” from the 2009 album “Liebe Ist Für Alle Da”. The album entered the American Top 20 (albeit only briefly), but when it comes to the fusion of rhythm, electronics and hypnotic monotony, the real legends are still Can, Neu! or guru guru. These are the German names that – alongside Kraftwerk, Faust, even the early Tangerine Dream – still come up when you talk about the revolutionary pioneers who hardly sold any records 40 years ago, but who still cast a long shadow today. Rammstein are certainly one of the best, and in any case one of the biggest, bands in their field. But: They are only later born. And there is no risk in showbiz. And fame – however substantial it may be – is not an automatic precursor to legend.
Rammstein came, won and – now in their greatest hits album phase – are still doing good business in the USA. They have achieved more here than any other German band of their generation. They may already be part of the collective consciousness in their homeland, but whether they will also make history in the country where rock was born is still up in the air.
