Words by Matt New
Pix by Angie New Photography
Some artists age gracefully, while others age loudly, dangerously, and with enough creative firepower to remind you why they helped build the genre in the first place. Till Lindemann emphatically belongs in the latter camp. A true heavyweight veteran of industrial metal, Lindemann’s influence stretches far beyond his unmistakable baritone or flamethrower theatrics. With Rammstein, he helped carve Germany into the global metal map, paving the way for an entire generation of heavy bands unafraid to be theatrical, confrontational, and weirdly brilliant all at once.
That vast presence, equal parts poet, provocateur, and cartoon super villain, was an attraction for Sydney’s industrial metal faithful who were brave enough to weather the torrential downpour around the Sydney Entertainment Complex. With the Hordern Pavilion opting to curtain off the side seating, the venue felt strikingly intimate, bathed in an ethereal blue glow that lent the night a cabaret-meets-industrial bunker atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for a show that thrives on closeness, discomfort, and spectacle.
Opening duties fell to Melbourne-based gothic industrial nu-metal outfit Mèlancolia, a band very much on the rise and very much aware of it. Before a single riff was played, the room was primed with pounding hardcore trance, effective in setting the mood, if slightly overindulgent, testing the patience of those eager for live instruments.
Once underway, however, Mèlancolia proved themselves a formidable presence. Visually abrasive and brimming with confidence, their sound stretched well beyond horror-themed nu-metal tropes, folding in industrial textures and the precision brutality of deathcore-inspired blast beats. Drummer Mason Page, in particular, was a standout, making complex, physically demanding patterns look almost casual and effortless. Frontman Alex Hill was a dynamo, as he screeched with guttural force and commanded a strong, haunting presence amidst his musical peers who provided a powerful sonic backdrop.
Mèlancolia introduced new material from their latest release, random.access.misery, to a well-received echo from the energetic Hordern Pavilion audience. Tracks like Spit offered a welcome balance of melody and discordant anguish, showcasing a band that understands dynamics as much as destruction. Signed to Nuclear Blast, Mèlancolia is proudly flying the flag for heavy Australian music on a global stage. Imagine the confidence of Bring Me The Horizon, the grotesque theatricality of Mudvayne, and the genre-hopping variety of Ice Nine Kills, and you’re somewhere in the ballpark. Their sound was deliberately jarring and uncomfortable at times, but in the best possible way, as they left every ounce of energy up on stage and validated their call to warm the crowd for one of industrial metal’s most revered artists to come.
Lindemann’s solo work has always felt like a natural, if more unhinged, extension of his Rammstein catalogue, but live, that distinction becomes even clearer. Where Rammstein balances monumental spectacle with rigid precision, Lindemann’s world leans harder into experimentation, gleefully blurring grandeur with absurdity, menace with mischievous humour. At Sydney’s Hordern Pavilion, those contrasts collided spectacularly.
From the first note, Lindemann’s live band sounded astonishingly tight and gargantuan, bordering on sonic perfection. Every industrial stomp, electronic surge, and percussive strike landed with crushing weight yet razor-sharp clarity. It provided a relentless foundation for Till Lindemann’s unmistakable growl, which thundered effortlessly through the cavernous room, cutting through the mix with authority and menace. Age, it seems, has done nothing to dull his vocal power, nor his vivacious attitude.
Till himself remains endlessly magnetic. Enigmatic, hilarious, and completely in command, he spent portions of the night deliberately sabotaging his own stage setup, repeatedly kicking over microphones and stands, forcing his gimp-like stage crew into frantic, increasingly futile attempts to restore order. It was slapstick chaos by design. His persona felt less like a traditional frontman and more like a ringmaster, conducting disorder with a knowing grin, revelling in the tension between control and collapse.
Musically, the set flirted with unexpected textures. Beneath the industrial backbone were moments that brushed against nu-metal bounce and djent like rhythmic precision, adding fresh muscle without ever abandoning Lindemann’s mechanical core. Schweiss was a monumental anthem that had every audience member shouting throughout the chorus, like they were responding like soldiers following orders to their peculiar General. The sound was heavy but dynamic, brutal yet playful, mirroring the contradictions at the heart of the performance.
Visually, the show leaned hard into provocation. Militarized, bondage-inspired costumes, grotesque background imagery, and explicit theatrical gestures pushed constantly at the boundaries of taste. At times, the spectacle hovered on the razor’s edge between performance art and outright shock. It was raw, erotic, confrontational, and entirely unapologetic, unmistakably European, unmistakably Till.
A beautifully restrained acoustic interlude with Tanzlehrerin offered a rare moment of calm. Stripped back and intimate, it showcased Lindemann’s dark storytelling instincts and was made all the more poignant by the presence of Danny Lohner, himself a veteran session wizard whose résumé spans Nine Inch Nails, A Perfect Circle, and beyond. The contrast only amplified the madness surrounding it.
Till is certainly deserving of having so many amazing musicians available at his disposal to bring his artistic vision to life. The allure of working with such an icon would be a dream in itself. His live band was phenomenal, with every member adding their unique style to the party. Joe Letz on drums was ferocious, as he wore through sets of drumsticks rapidly with his forceful performance in his provocative outfit that included fake breasts and a clown mask. Bassist Kristin Kaminski showcased so much variety with her performance, including some funky slap bass during Platz Eins. Guitarist Emily Ruvidich seductively shredded throughout the night in perfect complement to Danny Lohner’s driving guitar arrangements. And finally, keyboardist Brynn Route provided all the eerie samples and layers that gave Till’s performance a tinge of horror-filled unease.
Allesfresser became one of the night’s standout moments. Beginning with a post-punk jangle that nodded toward The Cure or Joy Division, it lulled the crowd briefly before detonating into a brutal, marching metal assault. What followed was pure Lindemann chaos: cream pies flying, champagne spraying, and one of many “did that really just happen?” moments, this time courtesy of drummer Joe Letz, whose commitment to theatrical excess bordered on unhinged.
As the show progressed, costumes devolved from regimented uniforms into near post-apocalyptic wear, mirroring the evening’s descent into glorious madness. During Platz Eins, Lindemann stalked the crowd wearing a POV camera, gyrating shamelessly at the sound desk before ultimately performing from within the audience itself. Fans found him suddenly inches away, grinning, looming, documenting the mayhem while soaking up the devotion like fuel.
Fresh off his 63rd birthday, Lindemann remains a force utterly indifferent to age or expectation. His affection for the Sydney crowd felt genuine, blowing kisses goodbye, only to return moments later for a four-song encore that left the faithful thoroughly satisfied. Highlights kept coming, including Fish On, where Letz once again ensured the night would linger in collective memory long after the final note, as the theatrics of a doctor removing fish from another prosthetic orifice had the crowd both revolted and laughing simultaneously.
Throughout it all, the production was flawless. Every lighting cue, camera angle, and stagehand scramble operated with clockwork precision, all in service of carefully controlled chaos. The POV camera returned one final time as Till introduced his bandmates in candid, raucous fashion, equal parts celebration and mischief.
Till’s final words to Sydney were simply, “you’re amazing”. A roaring ovation erupted as the band stood united onstage in single file, screens behind them teasing Lindemann’s upcoming Tillfest in Germany this July. This was an incredible way to kick off 2026, and certainly provided a welcome distraction from all the chaos in the world at present.
He used his sense of humour and shock to allow everyone to have a moment in time where we all could enjoy the world without taking everything too seriously – a guilty pleasure felt all-too rarely in the modern age. Bizarre, erotic, confrontational, and utterly entertaining, Till Lindemann’s industrial circus rolled through Sydney and left nothing behind but stunned smiles, ringing ears, and the lingering sense that boundaries, musical or otherwise, had been gleefully obliterated.
