Rosenrot

When the Berlin Wall came tumbling down, and Communism along with it, little did the world know that the monolithic regime-metal of Rammstein had been growing up behind it, soon to release itself upon the world and remind the free what it's like to have to walk in line. Wagnerian in scope and mood (if not in sound), 2006's ROSENROT finds the East German group offering up more of their uber-dramatic club/industrial chug that's as cold and massive as the hulking battleship that graces its cover. Imagine the ghost of Austrian pop star Falco inhabiting a giant steel robot and going on a city-destroying rampage; that's what's at stake here, and there are more than enough tracks providing the sort of dancefloor totalitarianism that Goths and rivetheads crave. The big surprise on ROSENROT is the half of the album dominated by ballads, quietly creeping along like blackened ivy up a castle wall. The band's signature German-only lyrics are also subverted here with "Te Quiero P***!," adding Mexican horns and bending their lockstep rhythmic assault to a Latin-centric cadence; it's like a soundtrack to a mechanical bullfight, and helps the group diversify their battle plan.