Untitled (2019) Rammstein

Written by Meenakshi Nirmalan

I first listened to Rammstein’s Untitled album in August 2021, just as the summer was drawing to a close. My manager at work, a fellow drummer, recommended the album and we listened to some of it on my final day at work. The album is officially untitled, but listed as Rammstein on streaming services. Initially, I was sceptical of Rammstein, the same way I’m sceptical of all popular contemporary artists. However, on the whole, I enjoyed listening to the album. The album cover consists of a plain white background with an unlit match, standing upright in the centre: it signals a reservoir of untapped power, explosivity, the potential to cause havoc, which is arguably the goal of Rammstein’s oeuvre. This album showed a lot of promise. It had many great tracks but didn’t deliver in all the ways I would have liked it to; all in all, it was a mixed bag.

Zeig Dich is by far my favourite track on the album. It stands out musically, linguistically, and for exemplifying the way that Rammstein court controversy. The lyrics explore the hypocrisy of organised religion with a boldness, a brashness, which works well. The song starts with the sound of choral music. We hear faux-latin phrases being sung, in a punchy, staccato manner. The second time around, it is accompanied by a guitar riff. And then the drums kick in, with big hits on the snare, punctuating the singing. The choral music later ceases, making room for Till Lindemann’s hypnotically ominous vocals. The first verse goes 'Verlangen, verfluchen / Verdammen, Versuchung / Verdammnis versprechen / Verüben sie Verbrechen / Verheißung verkünden / Vergebung aller Sünden / Verbreiten und vermehren / Im Namen des Herren'. Lyrically, the song demonstrates the vast amount of words starting with the letters 'Ver' in the German language. There are enough to form coherent phrases for a full song, not to mention enough to select for a specific number of syllables and stresses falling in specific places. Lindemann’s vocals are piercing, accentuating both the shape of the words, and their meanings; the sharp sound of the lyrics give shape to Rammstein’s critique of organised religion. This might not necessarily be fascinating to a native speaker of German but it is certainly of note to me, as a non-native speaker. I appreciate how Rammstein chose to sing in German, their native language. I don’t think I would like them as much, if their songs were in English. It would be difficult to translate Zeig Dich into other languages, whilst retaining the alliteration and the metre. Each language has its unique idiosyncrasies and this track underlines those of the German language. 

The album’s intro, Deutschland, is another track I enjoy listening to. The first time I listened to it, I wasn’t a fan;  I didn’t like the way it was mixed. In rock music, when tracks are mixed too well - when there is too much consistency across the hits of the snare for example -  it can feel overly manufactured and soulless. However, the track has really grown on me; the introductory guitar riff that I once disliked is undeniably an iconic part of this Rammstein album. Like Zeig Dich, I also enjoyed the experimentation with language in Deutschland. Lindemann sings 'überheblich, überlegen, übernehmen, übergeben' and also 'übermachtig, überflussig, übermenschen, überdrussig'. The litany of words beginning with the prefix 'über' feeds into the idea of excess. The bridge ends with ‘Deutschland, Deutschland über allen’, which is perhaps the song’s climax. Rammstein’s overt reference to Nazi rhetoric underlines the excesses and extremities of the regime. Deutschland explores the negative sides of Germany’s multifaceted history and as such, the song’s music video was controversial. Rammstein have been criticised for their military aesthetic, with many deeming the music video too bold, too provocative. It was said that many of the references were excessively shocking. To me the video was, frankly, bizarre. The palette of the video consists of striking reds, greys, whites and blacks, evoking the colour scheme of the Nazi flag. It starts off with soldiers in a forest, dressed in chainmail, wielding shields and spears, representing 16th century Germany. The video progresses and we are presented with a whistle-stop tour of the controversial sides of German history; we see depictions of the GDR, the economic crash, the Nazi-era, the Holocaust and slavery. Moreover, whilst the music video depicts Germany’s history, it also infuses elements of futurism, with red lasers and astronauts. 'So jung und doch so alt', Lindemann sings, capturing this idea. Germany, the way it is currently, is a relatively new concept. The country has gone through numerous reinventions throughout the last century, let alone throughout history. And it will continue to do so, as change is inevitable. This song demonstrates the conflicting opinions that the band have towards their country; Lindeman sings 'Deutschland, dein Herz in Flammen / Will dich lieben und verdammen', underlining the clash between patriotism and disapproval, showing the balance between Germany’s history and its potential for the future.

Although the album as a whole doesn’t feel cutting-edge, it doesn't mean I can’t enjoy listening to specific tracks from it. Some tracks feel bland; Radio and Ausländer, for example, fail to stand out from the masses. However, the album’s middle section is consistently strong; this section of the album stands out to me, predominantly for its sound, as opposed to its lyrics. Diamant is a great track. It’s the slowest, most-stripped back track of the album, nicely contrasting the more energetic nature of the rest of the album. I enjoyed its more mellow, melancholic feel, and I found it particularly poignant when Lindemann sings 'Wunderschön wie ein Diamant / Doch nur ein Stein'. The narrator spends the entire song comparing the object of his desire to a diamond but at the end of the track, asserts that a diamond is ultimately just a stone. Was ich Liebe is also a track slower than most on the album but the slowness gives the song its momentum. It feels steady and energising. Lindemann sings ‘Was ich liebe / Das muss auch sterben’. Rammstein expand on themes of inner conflict outlined in Deutschland, depicting the intricate relationship between pleasure and pain. Moreover, Hallomann and Puppe are amongst the most ominous tracks from the album. I don’t listen to these songs as much as I listen to tracks such as Zeig Dich and Deutschland. I’m always caught off-guard when I do, given their haunting nature. Lyrically, they explore complex issues, reflective of the darker side of humanity. However, my favourite aspects of both tracks, especially Hallomann, is the way the guitar and synths illuminate this darkness. Towards the end of the track, we hear a guitar riff looped, played in tandem with a distorted guitar solo; it’s charged, it’s piercing. This eventually fades, stripping back to synths and drums, making room for Lindemann’s vocals. His imploring, sing-song tone is chilling and the album’s outro feels cinematic. It’s eerily soft and feels like a false resolution; the album leaves the listener with more questions than it answers. Although at points the album feels baggy, I appreciate how the outro holds space for ambiguity with its end. Lindemann fittingly sings, ‘Sing für mich, komm, sing / Frag nicht nach dem Sinn’. Throughout the album, Rammstein presents the listener with a plethora of issues but their outro is hypnotically tranquilising. It’s simultaneously frustrating and neat. Not many albums make me feel this way; not many albums lull you into silence and submission.