I have always loved Russia. There has always been something that has fascinated me about the gigantic country with so much snow and ice and the furry hats and the alphabet and language so different yet so familiar. I just love the country, culture, and people of Russia. Even during the cold war, I secretly had a special place in my heart for The Soviet Union.
I was a huge Rammstein fan especially during the late 90’s/early 00’s. I was very excited when “Reise, Reise” was released and I sped to a local retailer to get my mitts on it. I was a little disappointed as I felt that it did not live up to the masterpiece that Rammstein’s previous album “Mutter” was.
However, as I listened to the seventh track, “Moskau”, I was enthralled. I loved it. Viktoria Fersh jumping in with her gorgeous, feminine voice, weaving her timbre in and out of my brain like an expert seamstress, Till Lindemann performing his usual gritty and beautiful guttural lyrics, and the accordion music made me feel like I was there, walking down the streets of Moscow. I actually felt a chill go up my spine. Maybe because I was thrilled with the song, or because maybe, for a split second, the song had transported my spirit to Moscow and back.