Linkin Park Behind Blue Eyes

Album Review: Limp Bizkit – Gold Cobra

At the turn of the millennium, a wave engulfed America — a tsunami of braggadocio, skank walks, mosh pits, and general “on the offensive” mentalities. This hodgepodge of funk, rap, punk, and hard rock was known as nu-metal, and drop-D tuning plus confrontational lyrics became the hot commodity. Is it the most depth-defying? No. Is it relevant in today’s world of progressive metal? Not by a long shot.

Nobody is proclaiming that nu-metal will reclaim our hearts, minds, and fist pumps; 11 years is a long time for a band/genre/niche to reconstitute, resurface, and retaliate (not counting the dirty little secret known as The Unquestionable Truth, Pt. 1 ). That being said, and much to the chagrin of those who’d just as soon lump ICP into a chasm of deep hatred…a fully reunited Limp Bizkit has commenced one relatively proud and noble death rattle a decade from its peak (after numerous delays and concert cancellations, no less).

Better late than never? Suppose it depends on who you ask.

At its best, Gold Cobra represents an anachronistic yet viable effort on the part of this Florida rock quintet: abrasive, snide, antagonistic, violent, party-driven, and definitely good and loud for your car stereo. At its worst, the Limp Bizkit you know and love (or loathe) has opted to stay with the grain they’re comfortable in, meaning this isn’t some half-assed attempt to resurrect the past — just a plateau that evolution hasn’t blessed with a new edge (case and point: Linkin Park’s A Thousand Suns rantings. Reality check: Was anyone truly taken aback by what appears to be standard fare?

Seriously, how much maturity did you hope Limp Bizkit would achieve, let alone invoke? It’s fuel for the masses who fight back against their foes on a regular basis, from a frontman who’s used to getting verbally slaughtered by critics nationwide. Frankly, I’d consider anything more aggressive than 2003′s pseudo-Bizkit radio caterer Results May Vary to be a step up, even with a decent cover of “Behind Blue Eyes” and the tired premise of “Just Drop Dead” to fall back on — even when one considers the retard rage displayed on the chorus of “Get A Life”.