Review Summary: An unpolished, edgy look of one of the late 90s most polarizing bands.
Hate.
It's something that dictates our lives, whether it be world conflicts such as the Arab Spring, sport rivalries like the Boston-NY MLB feud, politicians that spew hateful invective about minorities and their so-called ''welfare-queen' status, or something as trivial as shouting at the woman who stole your seat on the train.
In the world of music, at least, hate exists in the form of moral superiority. People with a rather sophisticated musical upbringing pretentiously malign people with 'inferior' musical tastes, brandishing their holier-than-thou attitude with repulsive remarks, unjustified anger, and a disgusting sense of smugness. Musical bourgeois champion the intricate reprisals of Chopin, the complexity of Miles Davis's modal jazz arrangements, the sultry, psychedelic sonic textures of the Velvet Underground and various other 'high-end' artists.
But, why should all good music follow this model of cultural sophistication? Why can't a drunken, belligerent scream be as valid as Venus in Fur's Ostrich guitar? Why can't cheesy lyrics be as artistically valuable as Marcel Duchamp's Fountain? Why can't amateurish attitudes be as lauded as My Bloody Valentine's Loveless? Most importantly, why can't we appreciate the more primal, basic aspects of human nature in music?
Thus comes the curious case of Limp Bizkit's Three Dollar Y'all$, a trashy, sleazy exercise in corny, melodramatic hard-rock songs that's actually quite enjoyable. All throughout this album, the listener is bombarded with facetious screams, over-the-top frustration, and bad, yet hilarious lyricism. While these may seem like obvious flaws at first, these features actually accentuate the album.
Take 'Pollution' for example. The track begins with an atonal, yet aggressive guitar lead with Fred Durst proclaiming his apparent vexation. ( ' Straight comming at cha, PUNK!'') The verses continue this type of mood, ultimately climaxing in a sad yet angry pre-chorus. ( '' What did you say?'') Then, all hell breaks loose as Fred Durst bellows '' POLLUTION! YOU THINK ABOUT THE WORK YOU WANNA HEAR/ UH HUH NOW!'') My favorite part of the song is the bridge however. The song quietens, as Fred Durst delivers a soft, yet commanding claim to the listeners, in an albeit rebellious type of way ( ''Someone tell to turn that volume. I'mma bring that beat back'') The verses are repeated till I hear an unexpected ... '' SHUT THE *** UP! I'mma bring that beat back''. The cacophony ensues for the rest of the song, with choruses and verses merging in with the chaotic assault of drums, guitar distortion, and volatile singing.
This is LB in a microcosm, loud, unapologetic, and rabid. It may not have the art-school glitter of say a Sonic Youth or a Wire, but it has the animal-like, cannibalistic nature that all of us possess.
So, if you're one of those people who derides people for liking critically unpopular music acts like Limp Bizkit or Nickelback, take a look around. ( Pun intended) Appreciate the odd, sonic effects of Wes Borland's guitar. Acknowledge the rampant commercial success of Nickelback, no matter how banal or mundane the lyrics may be. Laud Fred Durst's screaming ability. Praise the unsophisticated, raw feeling of Three Dollar Bill Y'all$.
You don't have to worship or even like bands like Limp Bizkit or Linkin Park, but you shouldn't toss them away like their some generic, tasteless pack of gum because underneath your '' My-music-is-much-better'' perspective is genuine music talent.
