![]() Limp Bizkit During my "angry" period a couple of years ago, I would nearly always listen to a nightly program on a local radio station called "Party In The Pit." Stupid name aside, it was just an excuse for this station, which was normally your run-of-the-mill "modern rock" station, to play stuff that rocked a lot harder than what they could normally play. For awhile in mid-1997, they often aired "Counterfeit," by an at-the-time unknown band called Limp Bizkit. It was hard and fast, and there was a lot of screaming and misplaced anger, so I dug it. I never liked it enough to go out and spend twelve bucks for the CD, but when BMG came around with one of their usual irresistible deals, I blindly jumped, as with my first three marriages. I'm usually not one to want to peg the Cliché-O-Meter, but in this case, man, I should have looked before I leapt. I have no qualms when I say that after listening to this disc all the way through one time, I never need to or want to again. This is a screaming, squalling, incomprehensible, noise-fest from beginning to end. "Counterfeit" towers over the rest of the tracks here, and is still a fairly cool song, but it's damned by association here. I can't even stretch to pick another "favorite" out of the rest of the tracks, and finding a discernible melody is just as futile an endeavor. The low point is easily the utterly reprehensible cover of George Michael's "Faith." This song most clearly and vividly serves to illustrate the message the disc as a whole is attempting to convey, which is this: Fred Durst (the lead vocalist and former tattoo artist to Korn lead singer Jonathan Davis, which led to the band's discovery) can … a) scream loudly, b) scream very loudly, c) scream incredibly fucking loudly. That is when he isn't rapping in his high-pitched whiny white-boy voice, sounding like the rejected fourth Beastie Boy. Ugh, I've wasted enough of my (and your) valuable time on this piece of cat snot. If you ever needed any illustration of how fast the youth of America is going to pieces, just know that the follow-up to this album went straight to number one upon its release. Lord help us all. Now excuse me, I'm late for my fourth divorce. Review by Mario Speedwagon |
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