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Till interview - Messer 02-Dec-02

by Jochen Förster

Skull herb
Predilection for old German: Rammstein front man Till Lindemann presented as a Poet

When the boom is omitted, and hammering the diaphragm and the rolling "R" in the sea of flame, then rest the ear and release the text. Such freedom can be infectious. Till Lindemann gets rid of his dark poetic art of all its menace.

Idioms such as “In mein Herzen” and "an Dir schlafen", words such as bitch fodder, testicle fat, skull herb or skeletal remains smacks of poetry, one reads and thirsts for a new flow of language. Till Lindemann, better known as singer and lyricist of the Berlin German Metal band Rammstein, has written a book, which functions exactly the same. It is a volume full of darkness in its strong language of totally extraordinary poems. That may surprise some, who still have the "Rammstein Slogan" competition of the last years ringing in the ears, the "Haudruffband", (thrashing Band), the "Brachialkrawallos", (Crude-riotous), the "forcierte Hunnentum“ (exaggerated Huns). While the other Band members brought in the spirit of Fun-Punk of the ex-DDR and wanted to make a lot of amusing “annoyance” with their thundering symbolism, Lindemann, bullish but at the same time the serious one, was thoughtful, often grumpy, opera listening. In the photos to "Messer” he appears in bleached make up under shop window dolls.

Lindemann lives up to the picture. Boxer face, Farmer fists, in his eyes a soft gleam. He has “no big intellectual need", he says; his friend and promoter Gert Hof wrote in the highly expressive preface, with Lindemann one can be silent. One quickly suspects that is correct. Lindemann, 39, studied building joinery with "auxiliary qualifications" as a basket weaver, hates interviews, because they are punched; resemble questions, bloody journalists. In his case its good to know that. The same Rammstein used by David Lynch for his film music, one generally suspects, corners the media. Rammstein, whom Hertha-BSC fans listen to while travelling. There was no more to be said.

"Messer" is remarkable in the flaying of this understanding of the naked text. Certainly, poems are written more freely than Lyrics, and do not need the freedom of movement of a chorus. The topics and language field however are the same. Except: the martialism suddenly becomes digestible, amazing versatility steps out – Lindemann’s predilection for old German, for a specific morbidity as there always is with being-feeling-wanting. He cultivates, what Fritz Lang beat out of the business in the "Nibelungen" films. A little early Kinski poetry without its absolute Fäkalwillen (need for faeces), and earlier Benn, Poe and Lovecraft, but with a dark-German slant to the perversion. Therein Lindemann has much talent.

The titles are “Sautod" (Slut Death), "Missfall“ (Displeasure) or “Immunschwäche sehr positiv“ (HIV+), the verses, more than a few of them death rhymes, concern dead girls in the forest, eaten intestines, masturbating on ashes, Gods on lying places, fish smell and putting tongues in all kinds of "Swill". Many are bestial: "Tot singt” (dead sings), some almost tender "Nebel" (Fog), some more macabrely humorous ("Big in Japan") and all are concerned with destruction. "And if the sun shines at me at night, is nobody there, it cries around me" writes Lindemann. He has many ideas for a view on life. The Poet Lindemann is poetically valuable particularly as a language discoverer. He also sees it that way himself "word demolition and reconstruction" are his job, sometimes he also uses "dictionary slang" in addition and he’s pleased as a child if he finds pearls such as "zum Futterplatz ludern“ (to the fodder bait). Lindemann laboured hard, broke word territory, all that remains for him is the "95 per cent anti-Germans and five per cent extreme Germans". His language provokes, because he avoids explicit symbolism he is alone in his field, and has a propensity for interlocking extreme virtuosity and strange unconsumed affects.

His own life is the complete opposite. Lindemann dresses up, igniting himself at concerts. Or stays silent. Sometimes when our discussion touches on love, he breaks from that. "If we are honest, we would all behave deceitfully. Hypocrites, liars, deceivers. That is the way life is between a man and a woman. Or do you know any intact marriage?" He talks himself into rage. "It is all shit. It is really all total shit, but somehow, one must endeavour to get through the cheating. That is my Credo. I can say no more about it." One can reread the manual of such a winning presentation with a scary theme in November. If it’s liked too much for some (or too little), the concluding Poem is ample. "The life rescued likewise in good time, has found fish eyes on the beach, they become sewn to my eyes, can you then see under water, and all the multicolored sea-serpents, hooked from your beautiful skull“. Three times successful, as it’s called: "Luck".

© 2005 Sue Lindemann