Roger Waters and Till Lindemann: Symptoms of the same sickness

What do we expect when we flock to the spectacle?

Note: Given the argument of this piece, I didn’t want to include a photo of Roger Waters or Till Lindemann. The Colosseum in Rome seems an appropriate substitute.

There has been a lot of ink spilled in the last few weeks about Roger Waters. Although I do have a dog in this fight - I first wrote about Roger Waters and antisemitism nearly ten years ago - I am increasingly exasperated by the narrow framework in which he is discussed.

First of all, the focus on antisemitism has shifted scrutiny away from Waters' wider politics. It's become round XXX of an endless controversy with the same protagonists, the same denials and denunciations. To be clear, I myself think that, whatever ambiguity there might once have been, it's hard not to conclude that Waters is reusing longstanding and highly dangerous tropes about Jewish/Zionist conspiracies. But even if you don't agree I don't see how you can deny the fact of Waters' implication in Syrian atrocity denial, together with a total refusal to acknowledge the fascist elements of Russia's invasion of Ukraine and, more generally, a near-total apathy (at best) regarding oppressive and genocidal non-western powers. The ritualistic elements of antisemitism controversies mean that many people with pro-Palestinian sensibilities are being bated-and-switched into ignoring Waters' tolerance for the inexcusable.

There is, at least, some attention paid to Waters' politics beyond the antisemitic, even if it is sometimes struggling to cut through the focus on antisemitism. But I have seen almost nothing that asks what Waters' current incarnation as conspiracist preacher says about the wider music industry, in which he has been a key player for well over five decades. That's all the more surprising given that Waters has not been able to stop himself mixing in his decades-long bloodfeud against Dave Gilmour (and, notably, Gilmour's Jewish wife Polly Samson) into his onstage polemics. Indeed, one gets the impression that it's all the same struggle for him.

While I've been thinking about Waters, I've also been trying to process a major scandal that has broken in the metal world regarding the German band Rammstein, centering on their lead singer Til Lindemann. It appears that he has, for some years, employed someone to round up women for aftershow parties from which he would select participants for sex (including sex during the show). Whistleblowers are now speaking of their experiences at these 'parties', which has included drugging and violence (although it is not yet clear how much Lindemann perpetrated himself and how much his entourage engaged in, not that it matters in terms of responsibility other than legally). Rammstein have denied the allegations.

Such practices are familiar from rock history. Sexual violence and predation appear to have been almost normative in at least parts of the music industry. But reading about their apparent persistence, I have started to think about how Lindemann and Waters share much in common, even if they superficially appear to share very different vices. [Having said that, while I don't know of accusations of sexual predation against Waters, he does seem to have a penchant for crude sexism, including misogynist insults against Polly Samson and this unforgiveable 1980s album cover].

Consider their respective stage personae.

One of the sillier accusations against Waters is that his dressing in fascist-style costumes onstage indicates a sympathy towards Nazism and similar movements. In fact, he has for many years been obsessed with the ways that both political leaders and rock stars can dominate and control the masses, claiming to represent their desires while all the while erecting barriers between themselves and the rest of humanity. One might say that Waters is a kind of satirist who explores the danger inherent in adoring crowds and gigantic spectacles. His own monumental shows are dripping in irony.

Lindemann also has a taste for the monumental. Much of Rammstein's popularity stems from their breathtaking stage shows in which Lindemann plays a central role as the embodiment of male potency. He shoots flamethrowers, he beats (and sometimes fucks) the (male) keyboard player, he rides on top of a giant phallus that spurts into the crowd. Rammstein's videos often feature comically serious demonstrations of priapic power, particularly the one for 'Pussy', which was released in a 'soft' and 'hard' versions, the latter featuring hardcore sex with porn stars. The ridiculousness of it all, the wit of Lindemann's lyrics, the sheer hardness of it all, suggest a satire of the brutish masculine. After all, he couldn't be serious could he?

Both Waters and Lindemann appear to have become what they are parodying: Waters the crudely hectoring wannabe demagogue, Lindemann the rapacious male abuser.

The 'become' in that last sentence is the tendentious bit. Were they always like this? Certainly there are examples of men who have spent their entire lives hiding in plain site, gambling that no one would believe that they were 'really' like that - Donald Trump and Jimmy Saville are famous examples. But I have to believe, short of any other evidence, that most people can only become monstrous if given the opportunity.

The question we have to ask is, really, not why rock stars become this way, but why do some not become this way. Night after night after night, Til Lindemann and Roger Waters become God. I cannot imagine the thrill that playing arena and stadium shows must give you. Could there be anything more wonderful or more dangerous? In such circumstances, the boundary between satire and reality becomes invisible or just moot. How can you satirically ride an ejaculating phallus? How can you satirically strut and speechify to an adoring crowd?

I'm pleased that, in recent years, a long-awaiting reckoning with the dark side of the music business has begun to happen (although mostly in the realm of sexual violence; the harm that preaching conspiracists do is less acknowledged). My concern is though, that there is something in performance itself that is unreformable. Yes, you can certainly ensure that no artist who systematically seeks to abuse has the opportunity to do so. Yes, you can fight back against poisonous and deluded conspiracist rock stars. What you can't do though, is to remove that God-like feeling that being the apex of a spectacle gives you. That kind of high is baked in, and it's anyone's guess who will survive it.

So what is to be done? Speaking for myself alone, Roger Waters is the easy bit; I am not and never have been a Pink Floyd fan. I've been 'boycotting' him all my life. Lindemann is much more painful. I've seen Rammstein live twice, both awe-inspiring shows, and I adore their music. Whatever I do in future though, I will still attend other shows by other artists, some in tiny venues and some of them in enormousness. I will be implicated in the God-making process. I am certainly not going to tell myself or others to stay away from any show with more than four people in the audience. Humans love spectacle and, whatever it does to the performers, from experience it often does great things for the audience.

So what is to be done? As I say, there is plenty of work that is being done to make gigs and the music industry safer (check out the Sophie Lancaster Foundation, Heavy Metal Therapy and the work of my collaborator Rosemary Hill) although there still remains a mountain to climb. One of the best books I have read on the music industry, Ian Winwood's Bodies (which I reviewed here) states the problem loudly and clearly: The music industry is broken, it makes people sick. That Winwood's book was widely acclaimed suggests that there might not be the same tolerance for the intolerable that there once was.

Increasingly, I think the heart of the problem is the separation between ethics and aesthetics, at least when it comes to music. I recently published in The Quietus a twenty year retrospective on Metallica's widely-loathed album St Anger, in which, noting the brutal criticism to which the band have been subjected by their fans, I argued that fandom often feels like a kind of holiday from everyday decency. I am, of course, not the first person to note that brutality and fickleness of fame and critical acclaim, but the fact that Roger Waters understood and articulated this brutality earlier than most has not stopped him falling into the deluded, bloated, self-importance that he recognised as long ago as the 70s.

This is going to sound kinda flaky but why don't we all look out for each other? Fans should look out for artists, artists should look out for fans and the industry should look out for everyone including itself. Deluded, right? But consider this: What would have happened if, at an early stage of their career, Till Lindemann's bandmates, his label execs and maybe even his fans had staged an intervention? He would probably remained a promiscuous lecher, but he might not have become a systematic predator - complete with an employee to service his needs - if he felt he was being watched over. And what would have happened if there had been the kind of structure in place around Pink Floyd that would have mitigated tensions in the band and allowed for at least the possibility that he wouldn't spiral into deluded grandeur?

Naïve solutions I know. But I also know that I have been part of communities and collective spaces in which we were all 'held' and inspired to be our better selves. Humans are capable of ethics and decency. I refuse to believe that the music industry is the place where this has to stop.