Korn's streaming assault left us missing a live mosh among the auld nu-metal Alienated. But we also gained gold.
The main treasure derived from the clarity of Jonathan Davis' voice -- distinctive without getting all virtuosic. The bearded neurotic retained more melody than most rap-obsessed '90s heavygroove frontmen can muster, while communicating a confessional intimacy that lent him the human touch so often neglected since the world went mechanical. Plus, his raps bled hurt rather than hate, reserving the rage for his peak bellows. The versatile Davis presented better than in the unlamented days of baggy shorts, too, thanks to adopting modified Priestwear (black leather tunic) and Zakkstyle (black leather kilt).
Maybe Korn's subject matter (despair, disintegration, solitude) veered a bit monochrome. And maybe their middle-slog groove, propelled by Ray Luzier's weighty toms and Reggie "Fieldy" Arvizu's dynofeel bass, did the same. But that is also called having a personality, one that deeply magnetizes the Aliens. The guitar riffs of James "Munky" Shaffer and Brian "Head" Welch sold leaden crunch ("Coming Undone"), funky wah ("Justin") and itchy twitch ("You Were My Brother"). And so many tweaky FX were spinning around that they couldn't have been sourced solely from the stompboxes of those two; somebody musta been knobbing up the magic behind the scenes. So . . . beyond the basics, 31 flavors, at least.
All this without recourse to what used to be called lead guitar: Korn has made its bones through rhythm, dynamics and songwriting. "Freak on a Leash" remained a timeless anthem, and "Narcissistic Cannibal" dangled a melodic hook from which few could wriggle.
So what if director Sam Shapiro still believes we want to endure a visual edit every second? Somebody must agree. Good angel-eye perspectives, anyway.
After all these years, Davis still feels "like a dirty whore." In view of 40-some million sales, he's not the only one shopping for soap.