Sun Oct 2, Chop Suey,

$10, 8 pm, 21+.

Marco Haas wants you to understand he aims to blow people away—with volume.

Visit t.raumschmiere.com—the website of the Berlin-based producer's alter ego, T. Raumschmiere—and side click "The Game." Quickly your keyboard mobilizes a single-minded, pivoting tank in a mutated Space Invaders scenario. With a megaphone barrel, this armed vehicle aims at an advancing cascade of ears.

This same tank appears on the inner booklet to T. Raumschmiere's recently released, fourth full-length, Blitzkrieg Pop, while on the "Blitzkrieg Pop" single, a variation—a rifle with a megaphone grafted atop—is displayed prominently. This mecho-pugilist menace fits the technofistfetish grind of T. Raumschmiere's music and reminds listeners that Haas is gunning for you.

"You could say my images warn I will fuck with people's heads," says Haas by phone from Berlin. "This is why also I am known for skulls. I have the skull on my albums... I will always have something with a skull on it on my body.

"The skull is global, the most 'anti' symbol you can have, more than even the fuck-you finger," continues Haas. "It says this will not be elevator music."

Indeed, Haas's music may be a downward spiral to some, as from the first throttling track—"Sick Like Me," with a tightly orchestrated, tautly constricted rhythm reminiscent of Trent Reznor's caustic "Wish"—it actively instigates the descent. Mostly Haas has left behind the gnarled, glam shuffle of the German schaffle beat (most associated with Cologne's Kompakt Records, distributors to Haas's Shitkatapult Records).

While "All Systems Go" hints at Haas's past in techno epics, the throb and corroded trill of "Diving in Whiskey" (featuring Berlin-based BPitch Control labelhead Ellen Allien) and "A Very Loud Lullaby" (featuring Sandra Nasic) have a much more resolute stomp, unremittingly advancing while trailing abraded arcs of steely synth filings. Blitzkrieg Pop is 13 concussive canisters of bottled sparks, and from the title to some gnashing 69 Psalms–era Ministry hints, it's intended to declare war on mediocre, American Idol–style pop.

"People need to be forced awake," says Haas. "My intention when I make music is not to entertain in a way people can sit back and relax, because they can do that anywhere else."

Yet Blitzkrieg Pop is also Haas's most melodic collection of encapsulated indignation to date, made with less pricks, crackles, and dissonance. Haas has committed to unfurling analogue ambiance as much as he has to jamming serrated synths atop the mix. German production has increasingly embraced a recombinant culture, coming from a generation rebuilding broken homes within patchwork cities through hybrid technology. And, among other things, Blitzkrieg Pop is a tad more hook-based to carry Haas's answer to and assault on the German political climate to a (slightly) wider audience.

"A Mess" includes campaign speech–like swatches while describing a "sickening," "fucked up world" bereft of democracy that Haas wants "no more of," set to a bristling automaton clip. And the elegiac "Patridiot" instrumental is perhaps a funeral march for both politicians and their constituents, alike. The title track coda bluntly sees everything "blown away."

"My primary point is simply my love of developing sounds," says Haas. "Sometimes in my studio I'm diving into the sound, almost crawling into the speakers to hear some certain frequencies.

"But I'm also trying to focus on a generation with a certain attitude," he continues. "The next generation will be the generation of single households... having problems with clearing up the shit the generation now is doing. If you live in Germany at the moment it's tough... really economically going down. It doesn't seem to matter who you vote for, it seems like it will get worse... and this wave is definitely going through the music because it hits people on the personal side."

Haas, who also drums for punk-metal combo Crack Whore Society, brings all this menace about live by leading a full band—an "army of watts" merging hyperventilating electronics and epileptic performance. Yet the genesis of some of Haas's most convulsive production can be traced to what is also at the heart of his most equistatic emotions.

"I have a son who is two-and-a-half years old," says Haas. "He's going to go through a lot of shit, that's for sure, and I don't want to sound selfish but most of it is not my fault. So I will continue to sing and scream."