Rammstein / Sehnsucht by Duane Gibson Slash Records What do you get when you cross Kraftwerk with Ministry? Ignoring the logistic difficulties inherent in finding a room big enough to accommodate both Ralf Hütter's keyboard collection and Al Jourgensen's ego, the result would likely be very close to the omnisexual German techno-industrial NBT (Next Big Thing), Rammstein. In early 1994, guitarist Richard Kruspe of the band Orgasm Death began forming a group with two fellow musicians from the former East Germany. After the subsequent addition of three more band members from Berlin (the most notable of which being vocalist Till Lindemann of First Arsch), the formation of Rammstein was nigh complete. All that was left for these six upstanding young fellows was to start churning out crushingly rhythmic guitar riffs and disturbing, not-for-the-faint-of-heart lyrics. This combination, which first appeared with the release of the group's first LP, Herzeleid, has been taken to a new level of intensity on their latest release, Sehnsucht. Because Herzeleid was until recently only available only as an import, Rammstein's exposure in America was limited to that of the "mystery group" featured in two tracks on the soundtrack from David Lynch's convoluted film Lost Highway. But after the preliminary success of the first two singles from Sehnsucht, "Engel" and the as-seen-on-TV "Du Hast," catapulted the album to platinum status in Germany while it was in the pre-sale stage, the band's producers decided that it merited a U.S. release. They were right. As an electronically rendered Arabic-sounding melody dissolves into a relentless guitar overload on the album's introductory and title track, you quickly realize that the album is at the very least 45 minutes of mind-numbing electronic adrenaline. And if the album title and song titles didn't give it away, you also realize that the album is recorded entirely in German, excluding the two horrible forced-rhyme English pseudo-translated versions of "Du Hast" and "Engel" tacked onto the end of the album. In a genre overpopulated by screaming, incomprehensible, and angst-ridden junkies, however, it's almost refreshing to know that you're not expected to understand the almost operatic vocals Lindemann belts out over the course of the album. And, as someone who does understand the lyrics, I can assure you that for many people, ignorance is indeed bliss. (Note: attempting to impress your GERM 201 instructor by singing these songs in class may prove extremely counterproductive.) But the album is not without its weak points, for the band managed to continue its annoying tradition of including one song that is simply not worth listening to. In this case, the culprit is "Klavier," a song that belongs on this album about as much as "The Perfect Drug" belongs on a Celine Dion CD. In addition, you might find it difficult to take Lindemann's overly enunciated omnibass delivery seriously at first. Indeed, there is an unavoidable element of humor whenever six German guys yell "Nein!" in unison. Overall, this album has a lot of things which can't be found anywhere else: a double-dose of incest ("Tier" is about a man who has sex with his daughter, who in turn exacts revenge upon him; "Spiel Mit Mir" is about a boy whose preferred cure for insomnia is his younger brother's kung-fu grip), a pun utilizing the German words for 'divorce' and 'vagina', and a gay German guy extolling the virtues of cunnilingus in a register two or three octaves below the staff. Music is the universal language, and this album has a clear message: The Scorpions were a bunch of pansies.

back to Decweb main