Wednesday, November 23, 2011

korn - korn

I was never a KoRn kid. When it came to angsty high school rebellion, I was more into writing Rage Against the Machine lyrics on desks than locking myself in my room and playing "scary" music. (My brother totally was though, and I will never let him live down his plastic-pants-from-Hot-Topic phase.) I always found it silly and overdone, in the same way I saw Marilyn Manson or any other Columbine-era shock-rock artist.

In hindsight, Korn was one of the few bands from the "nü-metal" genre that had any real substance, along with Deftones and probably no one else. Their core sound weakened over time, degrading into laughable songs like "Ya'll Want a Single," making it very easy to forget that Korn was a remarkably unique act when they first broke through, all the way back in 1994(!). The metallic slap-bass, growl-rapping, and tuned-down guitars they became known for quickly descended into self-parody and was picked up by numerous copycat acts, but taken for what it is, their trademark sound packs a tight, manic punch that still stands up to this day.

Jonathan Davis' aggressive lyrics brought them widespread attention from parent groups and politicians alike, and it's easy to forget that that controversy existed for a very good reason: Davis' psychotic delivery is thoroughly engrossing, and downright terrifying if you let yourself get sucked in deep enough. It's easy to dismiss as adolescent, the sound of an outcast lashing out at the ignorant world around him, but it's impossible to deny that the emotion underneath it all is real and true.

Fuck you! I'm fed up with you. I'm not as good as you?

Fuck no, I'm better than you.

Could those sentiments be processed better? Yes. But does he get his message across? Absolutely.
This is not subtle music, to be sure--the same general message is bashed across your skull nonstop for an hour--and it's easy to see why a confused, alienated 14-year old would use it as a weapon against his parents and society in general. But as a work of art, the manifestation of a world of horrible energy and restrained aggression boiled down to twelve songs, it is simply astounding.

This is not to say the album is flawless. The album is ripe with regrettable choices (the use of nursery rhymes in "Shoots and Ladders" is more cheesy than unsettling, for example), but they are far outweighed by the ones that work. The band is buoyed throughout by Davis, who is at his best when he lets his raw emotion pour through. And nowhere is this raw quality more evident than in "Daddy."

The unfortunate truth is that this song is about the real-life childhood molestation of Davis (not by his father, but by a female family-friend), and that the autobiographical nature of the song is what brings it to life. The track is nothing short of pure, unbridled pain. By the end of the song, you can almost hear the demons of his past leaving his body. The lullaby in the background are unnecessary, and even work to dilute the power of Davis' vocals (if you can call them that), which chill you right to your core.

As his words give way to agonizing screams, uncontrollable sobbing, and bellowing cries toward figures unknown, it becomes truly unsettling, truly uncomfortable to listen to. It's one thing to be moved by art. It's quite another to want to physically turn away from it. In my mind, "Daddy" stands up as one of the most frightening songs in rock history, up there with "Frankie Teardrop" and "Hamburger Lady," and is the perfect musical and emotional anchor to the album as whole.

The band never again reached the creative heights of their debut. Maybe the songwriting was never as good. Maybe the production on other albums polished them up too well. Maybe their energy simply peaked at the outset. For whatever reason, Korn's debut was as good as they ever got, and arguably created a "nü-metal" landmark that no other band could touch, far outlasting the ill-begotten genre and all the worthless bullshit it spawned.

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