I’m a real believer in the whole ‘one good deed a day’ thing. Be it paying someone a simple compliment, providing physical help or simply just giving advice, I feel it’s the most selfless way of being subtly selfish- especially if you believe in Karma. The definition of Karma runs along the lines of: ‘the effects of a person's actions that determine his or her destiny.’ So if you do good things to others, good things will happen to you.
Today I travelled back from Birmingham having witnessed the mighty punk band Green Day at the LG Arena. Fantastic night, except for the fact that linking trains are useless, late and so, so unreliable. I therefore arrived at the LG Arena with only minutes to spare and, within those 10 minutes before the Californian Trio bounded on stage, the zoom function on my camera broke. Some could argue that, if I’m loosely basing this around Karma, this misfortune derives from a negative action of mine in the last couple of hours. You could say that playing a particularly amusing scene from Sasha Baron Cohen’s ‘Borat’ in my head- the one with the shape shifting Jews- whilst a Jewish man sold me one of the thousand of train tickets I bought that night- may justify this predicament. I just call it rotten luck. I’ll let Karma off there, as I have nothing against Jews.
In the morning I decided to leave the abode at which I had crashed at 8am. My good friend Luke and I left for Birmingham New Street and, oh joy, embarked on further linking trains to get to the City from our friend’s house in suburbia. My reasoning behind an earlier train was simple- I couldn’t bear the thought of missing one of my biweekly sessions with Ken ‘The Deformation Deviant’ Brown. I genuinely wanted to go. Does that not omit positivity towards my lecturer and a subject that frankly is a little dull? Surely Karma Kudos there.
So I had breakfast and bid a tearful farewell to Luke. I was roughly 40 minutes into my voyage home, 2 hours earlier than planned- on Richard’s very own ‘safest trains in the world,’ and therefore never once feared for my life- when I was approached by the stewardess checking tickets. Up to that point I also never once feared for my future as a passenger on that particular journey as, law abiding and responsible citizen that I am, I, of course, produced a valid ticket for the return leg of my trip. I handed her my papers with a smile. I’d used my brand new Student Railcard for the first time for ‘Advance Tickets’ and in the end benefited from a good deal. Only I wasn’t aware that I couldn’t escape Brum on an earlier train, due to the fact that the discount was for a middle of the day journey only. I was told by the stewardess, albeit politely, that if I didn’t jiggy jet off the vehicle pronto I would incur a fine of £50. That’s what I refer to as Karma ‘kicking you in the balls.’ There I was, eager to return to dear Ken to hear about the world of crime when I was accused of being a criminal myself. I had to get off at the next station.
Next thing I knew I was stranded in ‘Banbury,’- which, according to an outside source, contains ‘an awful lot of houses’- and is a place I literally have never heard of. The station is pleasant enough and I treated myself to a coffee and enjoyed nearly 2 hours of relentless yelping from Mrs. Dawn Johnson as I scribbled her outlines. Eventually sick of that I ventured down to the platform to check when I’d have my freedom once again. Suddenly I spotted a small square piece of thick, brown leather teasing me from a bench. As if to apologise for causing me to let the poor Ken down and offering up a whole new opportunity for me to do my good deed for the day, Karma had presented me with a rather expensive looking wallet.
I sat by said article and pretended to pick it up as if it were mine- I’d certainly had enough of being accused of petty crime for one day. The wallet was Gant, just like my own, so was of high quality and contained £40 in notes and some Euros. I mused for a moment but decided to do the honorable thing and hand it in. As if to further giggle wildly at my luck, the wallet had just 30p in change in it. I had minutes before that kicked myself for not possessing enough change to buy a paper and it seemed that German student ‘Johan’ did not have sufficient coinage either. And I feel splitting a note and leaving the change would just be, well, rude.
“Do you want to become a millionaire!?” the guy at the information desk gasped, fanning the half dozen credit cards from a pocket I had overlooked. Evidently not, I thought, as I stared longingly at today’s Times on the shelf. Feeling gutted but selfishly selfless I made my way to the platform- still too early for my train- to collect my Karma Kudos, in whatever form it was going to come. A rather stunning girl crossed my path and smiled- even glancing back for a second- but continued walking. That wasn’t kudos… that was mean. I was then approached by a crazed middle aged man frantically screaming in my face. “Is this train going to Oxford, quick!” “Yes, looks like it,” I answered, pointing to the information board right above him. “Shit!” He sniped, seemingly in my direction, literally trying to pry the doors open as if attempting to heroically save the lives of the passengers inside. I couldn’t believe it, I may be young but I’ve had enough experience with navigating train stations to know that if the information board says: “14:34 to Oxford, stopping at Oxford,” then it is going to Oxford. And I also, amazingly, know that there’s a round flashing button for opening the doors. John McLane eventually gave up and- I kid you not- glared at me as if it were my fault he was late, blind and too stupid to gain access to the train. That was also not Karma… but it was funny, I guess.
Mercifully my Virgin Train finally pulled up 2 and a half hours after I’d been dumped on the platform and I was saved. I was looking forward to snuggling up in the window seat I’d booked, donning my headphones once again and jotting down a few notes of my adventure in Banbury. But as I made my way to Aisle 58, Seat A, my heart sank and I gave a metaphorical finger to karma, once again. There, in MY seat, was an Indian man happily catching some zzz’s against MY window. That’s not to say sleeping beauty wasn’t entitled to my seat. It appeared that, as I wasn’t on board and the commencing the journey, my seat had been rendered ‘unreserved.’ Charming. An hour later he got off and I was gifted with the very seat I’d paid for months ago. What’s more, he’d left behind a copy of ‘The Express’ and, despite not being a good enough read to keep him conscious, would do me quite nicely. It was also fitting that Karma came full circle in the end, albeit 2 hours late, leaving me exhausted, frustrated and heartbroken that I’d missed out on my fix of Character Assassination love. You may think the idea complete rubbish but it’s an interesting concept nonetheless, and made the final hour and a bit fly by.
Thursday 29 October 2009
Friday 23 October 2009
The German Orgy Buffet
If Germany has taught the British anything in recent years, it’s that you needn’t have a sirloin steak to host a successful dinner party. World famous in the metal scene for their often controversial flamboyancy, enigmatic lyrics and mind blowing live performances, Germany’s finest Rammstein return with their 6th studio album ‘Liebe ist für alle da’ (‘Love Is There For Everyone’) and it is, somewhat literally, a belter.
It’s been 4 years since the Industrial Metaller’s graced us with their presence and what a long 4 years it was. Musically, there’s nothing new here. If you know anything about them then you know what to expect- booming and swooning vocals, techno beat laden orchestral triumph and power chords aplenty. For countless other bands, avoiding stepping into the unknown would spell an instant fiery demise, but Rammstein appear to have progressed naturally without losing their distinctive, irreplaceable sound.
That can certainly be said about first track ‘Rammlied’ (‘Ramm-Song’.) Taking obvious pickings from the best bits from previous album openers ‘Reise Reise’, ‘Mein Hertz Brent’ and ‘Sehnsuct,’ it is a brotherly nod to the eponymous lost classic ‘Rammstein’ (Herzeleid, 1995)- which too will have crowds worldwide chanting their name in war-like song. Classy. ‘Ich Tut Dir Weh’ (‘I Hurt You’) follows closely in line, the immense power behind Christoph Sneider’s onslaught of percussion gets the head nodding and the pulse racing.
Then it really hits you. ‘Waidmann’s Heil’ (‘Hunter's Hail’) is an album highlight and, although straying little from the typical structure of a Rammstein piece, it is no less impressive. It begins with what can be best described as a horn. Envisage a hunt- hounds, huntsmen and whips alike. The hunter sounds the horn and the hunt is underway! Only it’s not. The pack is charged by the colossal apocalyptic machine that is Richard Kruspe (Lead Guitar) and Paul Landers (Rhythm Guitar.) The band’s repertoire is full to the brim with such riff-tastic delights and this is no exception. The power and ferocity that is a Rammstein power chord has to be heard to be believed and, most importantly, must also be heard very, very loudly.
Frontman Till Lindemann’s vocals are impeccable as always. His bass tone boom appears to handle anything flung wildly in his direction and, again despite sticking to the norm, there’s still so much experimentation song from song. ‘Haifisch’ (‘Shark’) is a majestic stampede of melody, a rarity among Rammstein’s material and is the first point of the album where Keyboardist and resident freak Christian ‘Flake’ Lorenz unleashes his spine chilling effects. The track ceases with a haunting acoustic only to lead into the monotonous bass heavy riff of ‘B*********.’ Translated as ‘Bückstabü’ which, according to Landers is a word they fabricated to mean “anything you want”, Till growls at you with unparallel malice and when the drums sound, you really ought to be sat down. Or at least armed to the teeth.
Who would have thought the band who, in the past, have written so colourfully about sadomasochism, incest and necrophilia could perpetrate a heartrenchingly beautiful love ballad like ‘Fruling in Paris’ (‘Springtime in Paris.’) It is a serenade like none other they’ve done before and Till sends shivers as he crones in French ‘non je ne regrète rien’ (no, I regret nothing.) Brilliant.No, Lindemann’s Posse are no strangers to controversy across the globe. 2004’s single ‘Mein Teil’ (‘My Part’) tells the story of Europe’s most notorious cannibal Armin Meiwes who met a man on the internet and, to cut a long story short- no pun intended- ate his genitals. The video for 2005’s first single ‘Mann Gegen Mann’ (‘Man Against Man’) sees the band and a horde of fully naked men writhing around in body oil. And, given their propensity to include all things taboo in their art, ‘Liebe ist für alle da’s first single ‘P***y’ follows much the same pattern. You may think with a name and subject like that it’d never get radio play, but it happens to be their first Number 1 in Germany. The beauty of Rammstein’s music has always been that you don’t need to understand the language to relate to the emotion it creates and, frankly, the lyrics in this particular number speak for themselves, especially as the chorus is sung entirely in English- ‘Take me now, oh don’t you see… I can’t get laid in Germany.’ And not forgetting the snigger of ‘Steck Bratwurst in dein Sauerkraut.’ Genius. It may be challenging the subject of Europe’s sex trade but to me it sounds like a creepy orgy buffet. Personally, I believe it’s their finest tune to date. The albums final 2 tracks ‘Mehr’ (‘More’) and ‘Roter Sand’ (‘Red Sand’) work excellently together, the former a ferocious mix of tempo change, varying harmonies and just sheer aggression. It closes with another example of Till Lindemann’s vocal ability, a swooning poem that leads perfectly into orchestra lead closer ‘Roter Sand’, which wouldn’t be out of place in an war movie soundtrack.
It only takes one listen to hit home the quality of the album as a whole. At times it is inventive, unpredictable and shocking and at its best it is simply butt-puckeringly powerful. Unlike, for example, previous effort ‘Rosenrot’ (2005)- which seemed a somewhat disjointed affair-, ‘Liebe ist für alle da’ could quite possibly be Rammstein’s greatest achievement. Not necessarily because it has the best and most memorable tracks but because it works and simply proves that, even after 15 years in the business, they still do it better than anyone. Saying that, it’s not the best place to begin if you’re a Rammstein virgin, it’s more the stripper on the bachelor party cake, so to speak.
Intrigued? Dude, check out:
'Asche Zu Asche' ('Herzeleid', 1995)
'Sehnsucht' (‘Sehnsucht’, 1997)
'Rein Raus' ('Mutter', 2001)
'Mein Teil' ('Reise Reise', 2004)
'Waidmanns Heil' ('Liebe ist für alle da', 2009)
It’s been 4 years since the Industrial Metaller’s graced us with their presence and what a long 4 years it was. Musically, there’s nothing new here. If you know anything about them then you know what to expect- booming and swooning vocals, techno beat laden orchestral triumph and power chords aplenty. For countless other bands, avoiding stepping into the unknown would spell an instant fiery demise, but Rammstein appear to have progressed naturally without losing their distinctive, irreplaceable sound.
That can certainly be said about first track ‘Rammlied’ (‘Ramm-Song’.) Taking obvious pickings from the best bits from previous album openers ‘Reise Reise’, ‘Mein Hertz Brent’ and ‘Sehnsuct,’ it is a brotherly nod to the eponymous lost classic ‘Rammstein’ (Herzeleid, 1995)- which too will have crowds worldwide chanting their name in war-like song. Classy. ‘Ich Tut Dir Weh’ (‘I Hurt You’) follows closely in line, the immense power behind Christoph Sneider’s onslaught of percussion gets the head nodding and the pulse racing.
Then it really hits you. ‘Waidmann’s Heil’ (‘Hunter's Hail’) is an album highlight and, although straying little from the typical structure of a Rammstein piece, it is no less impressive. It begins with what can be best described as a horn. Envisage a hunt- hounds, huntsmen and whips alike. The hunter sounds the horn and the hunt is underway! Only it’s not. The pack is charged by the colossal apocalyptic machine that is Richard Kruspe (Lead Guitar) and Paul Landers (Rhythm Guitar.) The band’s repertoire is full to the brim with such riff-tastic delights and this is no exception. The power and ferocity that is a Rammstein power chord has to be heard to be believed and, most importantly, must also be heard very, very loudly.
Frontman Till Lindemann’s vocals are impeccable as always. His bass tone boom appears to handle anything flung wildly in his direction and, again despite sticking to the norm, there’s still so much experimentation song from song. ‘Haifisch’ (‘Shark’) is a majestic stampede of melody, a rarity among Rammstein’s material and is the first point of the album where Keyboardist and resident freak Christian ‘Flake’ Lorenz unleashes his spine chilling effects. The track ceases with a haunting acoustic only to lead into the monotonous bass heavy riff of ‘B*********.’ Translated as ‘Bückstabü’ which, according to Landers is a word they fabricated to mean “anything you want”, Till growls at you with unparallel malice and when the drums sound, you really ought to be sat down. Or at least armed to the teeth.
Who would have thought the band who, in the past, have written so colourfully about sadomasochism, incest and necrophilia could perpetrate a heartrenchingly beautiful love ballad like ‘Fruling in Paris’ (‘Springtime in Paris.’) It is a serenade like none other they’ve done before and Till sends shivers as he crones in French ‘non je ne regrète rien’ (no, I regret nothing.) Brilliant.No, Lindemann’s Posse are no strangers to controversy across the globe. 2004’s single ‘Mein Teil’ (‘My Part’) tells the story of Europe’s most notorious cannibal Armin Meiwes who met a man on the internet and, to cut a long story short- no pun intended- ate his genitals. The video for 2005’s first single ‘Mann Gegen Mann’ (‘Man Against Man’) sees the band and a horde of fully naked men writhing around in body oil. And, given their propensity to include all things taboo in their art, ‘Liebe ist für alle da’s first single ‘P***y’ follows much the same pattern. You may think with a name and subject like that it’d never get radio play, but it happens to be their first Number 1 in Germany. The beauty of Rammstein’s music has always been that you don’t need to understand the language to relate to the emotion it creates and, frankly, the lyrics in this particular number speak for themselves, especially as the chorus is sung entirely in English- ‘Take me now, oh don’t you see… I can’t get laid in Germany.’ And not forgetting the snigger of ‘Steck Bratwurst in dein Sauerkraut.’ Genius. It may be challenging the subject of Europe’s sex trade but to me it sounds like a creepy orgy buffet. Personally, I believe it’s their finest tune to date. The albums final 2 tracks ‘Mehr’ (‘More’) and ‘Roter Sand’ (‘Red Sand’) work excellently together, the former a ferocious mix of tempo change, varying harmonies and just sheer aggression. It closes with another example of Till Lindemann’s vocal ability, a swooning poem that leads perfectly into orchestra lead closer ‘Roter Sand’, which wouldn’t be out of place in an war movie soundtrack.
It only takes one listen to hit home the quality of the album as a whole. At times it is inventive, unpredictable and shocking and at its best it is simply butt-puckeringly powerful. Unlike, for example, previous effort ‘Rosenrot’ (2005)- which seemed a somewhat disjointed affair-, ‘Liebe ist für alle da’ could quite possibly be Rammstein’s greatest achievement. Not necessarily because it has the best and most memorable tracks but because it works and simply proves that, even after 15 years in the business, they still do it better than anyone. Saying that, it’s not the best place to begin if you’re a Rammstein virgin, it’s more the stripper on the bachelor party cake, so to speak.
Intrigued? Dude, check out:
'Asche Zu Asche' ('Herzeleid', 1995)
'Sehnsucht' (‘Sehnsucht’, 1997)
'Rein Raus' ('Mutter', 2001)
'Mein Teil' ('Reise Reise', 2004)
'Waidmanns Heil' ('Liebe ist für alle da', 2009)
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