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Brixton Academy reviews

Metal Hammer – Brixton Academy review, London December 2001

January 2002

They’re here in their droves. Thousands of'em. People have literally been shoe-horned into the Brixton Academy tonight after queuing around to block (the ex-pat Germans of course arrived at 6am with beach towels to mark their spot in the line). All in eager anticipation to witness the first appearance on British soil this year by metal's very own answer to the Rocky Horror Show: Rammstein! But as hulking frontman Till Lindemann descends from the ceiling riding a Sonic The Hedgehog-style fire-spitting disc and the dry ice clears, it soon becomes apparent that he's a very different kind of Dr Frank N. Furter.

'Nun liebe kinder gebt fein acht,' ('Now dear children, pay attention') sings the buff six-foot-something former Olympic swimmer. The rest of the band emerge from the darkness and unleash Krautrock's answer to Zeppelin's 'Kashmir' - 'Mein Herz Brennt' ('My Heart Burns') from current album 'Mutter'

Stripped to the waist and covering in soot, bassist Oliver Riedel has clearly been burning a few things of his own in rehearsal. Guitarists Paul Landers and Richard Kruspe - resembling a crazed Benedictine monk and an extra from Lost In Space respectively - are both looking pretty singed too. In fact it seems that only geeky synthman, Doktor Christian'Flake'Lorenz, has escaped the flames clad head to toe in a sparkling white surgical gown.

The prolonged Leni Rawtenstall sampled intro to the band's covert declaration of communism, 'Links 2-3-4' ('left 2-3-4'), coupled with a reciprocal stomp-a-long from the audience shakes the venue from it's very foundations. And then... boom! Blazing jets of flame erupt from the front of the stage like massive fiery geezers. The heat is so intense it's more than enough to singe the mullets from the German nationals in the front five rows. Landers and Kruspe are stood to attention, while Till throws exaggerated Führer-esque poses, and then it's - cue cheesy American accent - Workout With Rammstein as the band, and audience, indulge in a spot of OTT synchronised goose stepping on the spot!

The fusion of old school metal and Euro pop accessibility continues throughout the band's set with 'Sehnsucht' ('Heartache') blending Slayer with Steps and ‘Adios' ('Goodbye'), borrowing heavily from the Judas Priest classic 'Turbo' Rammstein then follow through with epic noir ballad and current album title track ‘Mutter’. ('Mother').

Lindemann assumes a contemplatively woeful thumb-in-gob pose, before churning out his best Marlene Dietrich impression. It's lighters in the air time for those in the know, and slam dancing for the part-time goths and nu-metal kids in the crowd who clearly don't. Oldie,'Weißes Fleisch'('White Flesh'), sees brainiac Flake showing the crowd that geeks can be cool with an impromptu display of breakdancing during the drum solo. Another fave from the back catalogue 'Asche Zu Asche' (Ashes To Ashes'), really gets this Cirque du Flambé into full swing, nearly bringing the house down in the process. But that's nothing compared to the audience's response to the band's most famous track -'Du Hast’, ‘You/You hate/You hate me you hate me!' everyone sings in unison and, as the track draws to a close, a sea of missiles shoot from the stage and blast into the balcony! Rammstein's penchant for S&M really comes into play when Till grabs Flake by his leash and subjects the poor spod to a spot of simulated buggery with a strap on cock, during 'Bück Dich' ('Bend Over').Till then proceeds to cover the front few rows in cum from his plastic penis. Nice! And then, with a heartfelt run-through of 'Engel', it's a 'Zank you very much!' from Lindemann and the players close Rammstein's set to with a bow. After much audience protest, the band return for initial an encore. Till reappears with his asbestos trenchcoat aflame and it's time for the band's air disaster theme tune, 'Rammstein'. By all accounts, this self-titled track is the lamest tune the Teutonic industrial outfit have in their arsenal - but hey, you can hardly do a 'Rime Of The Ancient Mariner' when you're seconds away from being burnt alive! Like Slipknot, Rammstein are putting a much a much needed theatrical injection into a genre which has been, quite frankly, monotonous and bland for far too long. Rip roaring renditions of boxing inspired track 'Sonne'('Sun') - the whole band are now semi-naked and look more like WWF wrestlers than musicians - and purpose built stadium anthem and future single, 'Ich Will'('I Want') ensue and the band leave the stage once more. Again, the screams for an encore ring out from the audience louder than any explosion we've heard tonight, and again the band return for a just one more. This time, a cover of Depeche Mode's 'Stripped' Flake takes this as his prompt to ride the mosh in an inflatable dinghy! And then it's goodnight for real. The band leave the stage as mates of the audience, and the audience leave the venue as mates of the band.

Daniel Lane



Rocksound Magazine – Brixton Academy review London 2-Dec-01

Rocksound – February 2002

There are very few bands – now, or ever – who’ve thought out their whole package a fraction as well as Rammstein have. The German six-piece would never have been content with just making ridiculously good, supremely over-the-top, wall-of-sound industrial rock records. They had to go the whole hog, making their artwork, their videos, their t-shirts, and above all their live shows, as blisteringly perfect as their mighty good tunes.

Rammstein’s is the kind of show you usually only see in apocalyptic sci-fi movies – ear-splitting, note-perfect sound, blinding lights, camp-yet-serious theatrics, and fire, fire and yet more fire. There are 10 foot jets of flames shooting up from the stage, flares up sleeves, facial flamethrowers, exploding speakers; the show starts with man-mountain singer Till Lindemann descending from the heavens atop a spark-spewing platform, and ends with him cementing his Terminator image in his trademark flaming coat, sporting black goggles with a laser in one eyepiece. All the time the music thunders relentlessly on – bass, drums, keyboards, two guitars, and Till’s voice, sometimes growling, sometimes screaming, sometimes whimpering, always incredibly powerful and utterly suited to the music.

The set list spans all three albums, and though it’s impossible to pick a standout track – they’re all mind-numbingly great – it’s ‘Sehnsucht’ hit ‘Du Hast’ that gets the crowd roaring most. Though the rest of the band would be standout musicians in any other rawk outfit, it’s gimpy keyboardist Flake, after Till, who’s most important to the visual impact of the show; the two have a – presumably fake, as Till is a renowned laydeez man – sub/Dom relationship that sees Flake pulled around on a leash, dispatched on a hilariously perilous journey across the heads of the crowd in a rubber dingy, and stripped and faux-buggered by the singer, sporting a whopping dildo shooting gallons of (also presumably fake) spunk all over Flake’s arse, the stage, and the crowd.

Bollocks to Andrew Lloyd Webber – this is musical theatre at its gobsmacking finest.

Rikki Price

© 2005 Sue Lindemann