IN THE BEGINNING was the word, and the word was ‘Bang’. It had all been so civilised, too. Pianists DUO ABÉLARD had helped lull Coventry into a false sense of security, their instrumental covers of Rammstein’s oeuvre – the likes of Sonne, Mein Herz brennt and Du hast – offering a gentle, if overly sedate warm-up. And then RAMMSTEIN rock up with enough explosives to give the Earth a few new arseholes, unleashing a blast that (according to the local papers, at least) could be heard up to 11 miles away.
But then, isn’t that why we love these Teutonic pyromaniacs? Glib comments about the last time Germans came to Coventry with this many armaments aside, Rammstein’s production is second to none. It’s a gloriously over-the-top orgy of explosives, pyro and sparks that feels like a lustful tryst between Michael Bay, Doctor Frankenstein and a half gallon of nitroglycerin. Their shows exhibit heavy metal’s maximalist tendencies, from the costumes they wear – most of the band dress in various stages of post-apocalyptic chic, while keyboardist Christian ‘Flake’ Lorenz has clearly missed the memo and looks like some kind of gold-spandex-clad Bowie spawn – to the staggering amount of bells and whistles they load each song with.