That mindset also defines Lindemann’s more provocative lyrics, such as “Sex” — a track with a gently swinging rhythm (who knew Germans could convincingly ape a Texas shuffle?) — on which he croons about getting fisted. “You want it, too!” he pleads, later trying to persuade his would-be lover with a YOLO rationale. Meanwhile, “Puppe” (“Puppet”) has a plot Eli Roth would envy about Lindemann’s sister working in a red-light district, locking him up and giving him a puppet to chew on, and “Hallomann” is basically the inner monologue of a child abductor (“Hello, little girl. Don’t talk, just get in the car.”) But even without a translation, the way Lindemann sings in German with rolled R’s and growls over a big drumbeat is enough to make your skin crawl.
Then again, nobody listens to Rammstein for the lyrics. Luckily, the band has settled into a moody, unique sound that matches their baser instincts and rises to the Weltschmerz of a song like “Deutschland.”.