I’ve got to be honest, I really wanted to give this album a good review. I wanted to because once upon a time Limp Bizkit represented the sound that everyone wanted to hear. All those people who deny it now? They all bought into ‘Significant other’ and even ‘chocolate Starfish’ and then the backlash, as it does with all big bands, began. Bizkit couldn’t handle it. The band publically fell apart with Wes Boreland in particular giving frequent and voluble interviews about the nature of Fred Durst and the ineptitude of the band that had paid his bills. The band did carry on, however, in his absence and the result was the aptly titled ‘results may vary’ which was nowhere near as bad as the band’s critics wanted to paint it, nor as good as it could have been. Then the unthinkable happened and Wes returned for the reasonable (and unfairly demolished) ‘The unquestionable truth (part 1)’ which, curiously, never had a follow up and with Wes out of the band AGAIN it seemed that the Limp Bizkit story had finally run its course.
The story was not to end there, however, and while for many the band’s return is a cause for celebration, the result is rather less than might have been hoped for. You see, while I wanted to give this album a good review, the truth is Bizkit have apparently unanimously decided that the way forward is to retread the ground already covered by ‘chocolate starfish’, albeit without the energy or vitality of that unquestionably amusing party-rock album. The result is an album that sounds tired, and even the often hefty-riffs can’t disguise the fact that this is a band more concerned about cashing pay-checks than banging heads.
The evidence? Well the intro basically covers all the boxes ticked by both ‘significant’ and ‘chocolate’ before the mercifully brief ‘bring it back’ mixes up a suitably brutal riff over the most irritating hip-hop drum track the Bizkit boys have ever unleashed. Meanwhile Fred sounds more than ever like an adult male immitating a seventeen year old street punk, and no manner of sub-Slayer riffs buried in the chorus mix can save the track from painful mediocrity. Hopes are raised by the nu-metal antics of the title track which at least sees the drums return to the mix, but as with the previous track, it’s the hip-hop elements that are emphasised and Fred’s lyrics just grate, with the average sound-bite aimed squarely at all those who Fred believes to have done him down over the years. It’s all the more of a shame because, despite everything, Limp Bizkit have retained a sizable fan base who have been nothing but supportive of the band, and you can’t help but feel that they deserve more than hearing about all the people who have annoyed Fred during their downtime. Worse, while you used to be able to rely upon the band to introduce some wicked smart melodies into their music, now they merely plagiarise themselves, and while I have no doubt that the fickle UK music press, who lambasted the band into obscurity in the first place, will pick up on their current popularity and fawn all over them once again, the truth is that there is just nothing particularly original here. ‘Shark attack’ is a prime offender being nothing more than ‘break stuff’ part II only without the novelty factor and it just feels like the band are short-changing the fans who have been there since the beginning with something so lazy.
The obligatory hip-hop track rolls into town next in the form of ‘get a life’ and once again the main issue here is the unforgiving attention focused on Fred’s lyrics by the absence of guitar and as Fred points out once again that “he doesn’t care what we think”, the chorus unleashes the closest the band have come to primal scream therapy post ‘3$ Bill Y’all’, and while it’s great to hear that the band can still kick it when they want to, it’s mostly a case of too little, too late. Something of a nu-metal sequel to ‘get in the ring’ it seems to be a remarkably personal attack on Fred’s naysayers but let’s get this straight, while the man has dealt with a fair hand of undeserved shit over the years, this album really is a massive middle-finger to the fans rather than to the nay-sayers with its lazy execution, and no amount of swagger or misplaced angst can hide that. Sure it’s a heavier album than ‘Results’, but what good is that when it goes nowhere, and while the chorus to ‘get a life’ offers some visceral thrills, the lyrical content is more than a little off-putting.
It isn’t all bad by any means. ‘Shotgun’ is much better, and the cheeky tempo/style change that kicks in is skilfully executed, but then I’ve never doubted the band’s skill as musicians in their field, while the chorus is classic Bizkit, the like of which was so good at filling dance floors throughout the early 00’s. Having made one step forward, however, the idiotically titled ‘Douche bag’ mixes up the melodic choruses of ‘significant’ with the down-tuned metal of ‘the unquestionable truth’ and the line “douche bag I’m gonna f*** you up” is undoubtedly the crassest lyric Fred has yet unleashed upon the world. It’s embarrassing for those of us trying to argue that metal can be intelligent as well as cathartic, and it’s quite remarkable that an adult could be responsible for such lyrical inadequacy, although I’ll undoubtedly be told I’m over-analysing the content by the band’s more broad-minded fans. That’s fair enough – as much as I have found this to be a disappointing outing, it has certainly sold well and I’m sure there are plenty of fans out there who’ll go a bundle on the driving riffs that back the track. The obligatory ballad is next and it seems that Wes has been learning from the U2 school of guitar playing, smothering the whole thing in so much reverb it’s hard to know if he’s actually playing anything cogent under there, and the net result is that the song sounds like an outtake from the ‘results’ album.
The album rumbles on with the grating self-pity of ‘loser’, the riff-heavy ‘autotunage’, and the musically adept ’90.2.10’ which is another musical highpoint but, for myself at least, it’s sunk once again by the lyrical content. The nadir, however, is truly the painful ‘my own Cobain’, a song that sees Fred lyrically equate himself with an artist who would almost certainly have despised everything that Limp Bizkit stands for, and whose legions of fans deserve far better than this self-serving eulogy which is, as ever, far more about introspection than genuine empathy.
There was a time when Limp Bizkit were fun. I own a good portion of their back catalogue and I still enjoy ‘Significant other’ for what it is – a slab of party metal that got people moving at a time when rock and metal just wasn’t that commercially acceptable. Like so many of the nu-metal bands Bizkit did us all a favour by bringing guitars to the charts and introducing younger music fans to metal via a more commercial sound and they were slated far more harshly than they ever truly deserved. It’s interesting to see how the situation has changed now with many members of the mainstream press falling over themselves to welcome the band back when, in all honesty, such a welcome is not merited. Wes Boreland has sacrificed whatever dignity and integrity he may have once had to return again to the fold and no matter how much he tries to back pedal, his petulant, hateful words about Fred and Bizkit are out there for all the world to see and, while people can change their minds, he left not once but twice, both times with the same comments to make; moreover Fred has not used his time and experience to develop his lyrical skills, rather he still comes from the same ‘poor-little-me’ school of song-writing that he started from all those years ago, without any sense that he has learned from his mistakes or developed in the intervening years; couple that with the absolute lack of invention and/or surprising material on the record and the result is quite unforgivable mediocre. Of course the counter-argument is that this IS a Limp Bizkit record and to judge it by any other criteria would be unfair, but even in comparison to their previous this is seriously anaemic. There will undoubtedly be plenty of fans glad to see their heroes back, and with that in mind there is nothing I could (or would want to) say that will change their mind on the successes or failing of this record, but from my own perspective this is the sound of a band attempting to recapture a feeling that has proved elusive. The riffs are plentiful and the choruses suitably loud and brash but it feels empty in a way that it just didn’t on previous outings. Ultimately it is for the fans to make their own minds up, but I found this to be disappointingly average.
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