Spunk, willies and arrests: remembering Rammstein's most notorious show ever

Rammstein
(Image credit: YouTube)

In his grisly, 1966 true crime epic, In Cold Blood, renowned author Truman Capote describes the city of Worcester, Massachusetts as “a Massachusetts factory town of steep up-and-down streets that even in the best of weathers seem cheerless and hostile." Thirty-two years later, two members of Rammstein would experience these qualities in a very public and notorious way.

On June 5, 1999, Rammstein arrived in Worcester for a headlining show at the Palladium as part of their Sehnsucht tour. With a total capacity just below 3,000, it was a decidedly smaller, more intimate venue than the Centrum — the arena where they appeared on the Family Values Tour just nine months earlier. By then, Rammstein had already earned a reputation for delivering an exhilarating live show, erupting with fountains of pyro and jaw-dropping theatrics.

After opening sets from Skunk Anansie and Soulfly, Rammstein took the stage and pounded through bangers like Weisses Fleisch, Asche zu Asche, Du Riechst So Gut and Du Hast. Approaching the end, they kicked into Bück Dich (“Bend Over,” in English) — the sixth track on Sehnsucht and already a fan favourite. Performed live, the song played out in a graphic pageantry of BDSM, where frontman Till Lindemann simulated sodomising keyboardist Christian “Flake” Lorenz, who would scamper about the stage on all fours while wearing a leash. 

Never one for half-measures, Lindemann would pull a fake but realistic-looking phallus from his pants and use it to animatedly squirt liquid all over Flake, the audience and himself. Both men would remain fully-clothed during the act, which took place on a well-lit riser at the front of the stage. Driving home that it was all an act, the phallus would continue streaming torrents of liquid for the rest of the song, with Lindemann alternately dousing the crowd and his own face. The liquid was harmless; initially he had used milk but Lindemann later switched to a mixture of Pernod liqueur and water, which eliminated the malodorous challenges of dousing oneself in dairy each night. 

The band then closed with Engel, before returning for three encores. Cue Worcester’s fabled cheerless hostility. After the show ended, local police came backstage and placed Lindemann and Flake under arrest. The two were taken into custody and charged with lewd and lascivious behaviour for the Bück Dich performance. 

Considering the serious nature of the charges and the musicians’ relative unfamiliarity with English, the police reached out to Holy Cross — a local liberal arts college — to see if any of the professors could assist. As luck would have it, one of their German language professors was available and she volunteered to assist the guys until attorneys could arrive. A spokesman for the two men issued a statement that read, "While they strongly deny any criminal wrongdoing, they have retained local counsel and intend to respect the laws of the city in question by seeing this matter through to its logical conclusion.”

The men spent the evening in jail and were bailed out in the morning. They eventually returned for a hearing, paid a token fine of $25 each and were released. In the documentary Rammstein In Amerika, it is revealed that despite the nominal fine, this incident plunged Rammstein into a spiralling state of disillusionment. What they grew up viewing from afar as the “Land of the Free” turned out to be far more conservative, intolerant and close-minded than what they saw in their native Europe. Footage of Till and Flake outside the Worcester courthouse suggest a real sense of distress. Though the men were relieved by the final adjudication, the experience left permanent scars.

Years later, Lindemann told Rolling Stone, "When I'm travelling for customs, I still have to do interviews and explain myself for why I got arrested and why I have probation. It never goes away. So for the rest of my life, as soon as I enter American ground, I have to go to the interview. I tried to get this thing out of my file with some lawyers but it's impossible." 

Two years after the incident, their crew were on a plane en route to the US for a tour. The date was September 11, 2001 and as the horrors of that day unfolded, their flight was diverted to Montreal. But Rammstein would not return to the US for ten years.

On balance, it’s likely that the notoriety ultimately benefited Rammstein; the story landed in news outlets across the globe, but perhaps most importantly, on MTV. Controversial or not, they had piqued the interest of a new global audience. Moreover, the arrests only enhanced the sense of menace and unpredictability that underpinned their live shows.

A performance of Bück Dich appears on some versions of the concert film, Live Aus Berlin, though other versions don’t include it. Over time, the band tinkered with how they performed the song live, though it’s not clear whether this was due to controversy or simply as part of their ever-evolving live show. Rammstein did finally return to the US and on April 29, 2012, they even returned to Worcester on their Made In Germany 1995-2011 tour. By then, Rammstein’s stature had soared and their now-twenty-song set still included Bück Dich. Before taking their final bow, Lindemann addressed the crowd in English, “Worcester, thank you very much. I hope we don't get arrested like last time.” They left the city as free men.

Curious as to just how wild Bück Dich looked at the time? Check out this video from Rammstein’s 1998 show in Worcester and forward to the 36:00 mark. Beware: this is the quintessential example of NSFW. For mature audiences only.

Joe Daly

Hailing from San Diego, California, Joe Daly is an award-winning music journalist with over thirty years experience. Since 2010, Joe has been a regular contributor for Metal Hammer, penning cover features, news stories, album reviews and other content. Joe also writes for Classic Rock, Bass Player, Men’s Health and Outburn magazines. He has served as Music Editor for several online outlets and he has been a contributor for SPIN, the BBC and a frequent guest on several podcasts. When he’s not serenading his neighbours with black metal, Joe enjoys playing hockey, beating on his bass and fawning over his dogs.