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Slipknot!
Iowa
is probably best known as "the middle of nowhere." Most non-residents consider
the corn-and-pig-
state a geographical black hole. Since rock'n'roll's dawning in the early '50s,
Iowa has had no singular voice
to put on the musical map. Naming a significant musical entity from the state is
inarguably a fruitless task; it
simply can't be done. However, nine freaks from Des Moines, draped in industrial
coveralls, surrealistic
self-made masks, and an attack that combines violently regurgitated "L.A.
neo-metal," death metal, hip-hop,
and downtuned screeching horror--are about to leap upon the unsuspecting world
like a musical of
Clockwork Orange. Have you ever thought about what a messed-up hard-core metal
band from "the middle
of nowhere" would sound like? "Ultra-violence" only begins to describe it...
Meet 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and
8. (In human terms that's DJ Sid Wilson, drummer Joey Jordison, bassist Paul
Gray, percussionist Chris
Fehn, guitarist Jim Root, sampler Craig Jones, percussionist Shawn Crahan,
guitarist Mick Thomson, and
vocalist Corey Taylor, respectively.) Each comes equipped with not only a
frightening visual persona
and number assignment, but a talent on his particular instrument that combines
and collides to form the
nine-headed savior/destructor of modern heavy music dubbed Slipknot. Now, with
the tools and talents
(not to mention complex-yet-infectiously-catchy songs) that this band holds in
its grasp, the world has no
choice: Slipknot has arrived, and you must now decide how to deal with it.
Formed during the latter half of
1995, the band went through necessary lineup changes to arrive at what they now
describe as "a
family unit." All native Iowans, their rather unassuming, un-happening locale
gave the members plenty
of space and time to perfect their unusual take on heaviosity. The band recorded
and distributed the
self-released debut Mate, Feed, Kill, Repeat in 1996, and the ball hasn't
stopped rolling since. Attracting
the attention of a number of labels, Slipknot finally signed to Roadrunner
through noted producer Ross
Robinson?s I AM RECORDS imprint in 1997 and entered Indigo Ranch Studios in
Malibu with Robinson
to record their self-titled debut. From the pummeling "Sic" and the unforgiving
bludgeon of "Surfacing"
to the sublime melodies within "Wait And Bleed" and the hypnotizing rhythmic
drive of "Prosthetics," Slipknot's
vast array of influences comes seamlessly wrapped up in a sonic love/hate letter
to the outside world. The
touring that will follow is promised to be "unlike anything else that's going on
out there. Seeing is
believing." So says Shawn Crahan. And it's a gross understatement of what
actually transpires when it
all comes together on stage. Until you hear the sound they create, having nine
members in the
band might seem ludicrous. Shawn claims it couldn't work any other way: "We've
maintained an
excellent practice schedule for the last three years. Everybody's on time,
everybody's always there,
and we always practice as a unit. Our music is so reliant on each other that if
one guy, even the DJ, is
gone, it's just wouldn't be our songs without him. Without even one person,
something is really, really
missing. Everybody has to be present. Even the littlest things make the songs
magical." Just as striking
visually as they are musically, Slipknot stresses that the visuals do not take
precedence over the music.
"We never put on the shit we wear to try and get people into us," says Joey
Jordison. "We did
it because, after being degraded constantly for trying to play music or do
something in Des Moines, it
just came to be like we were an anonymous entity. No one gave a fuck, no one
cared, so we were
never about our names or our faces; we're just about music. So we just put it on
and it started
gettin' people, and it just started to turn into this big thing. The music's the
most important, though. The
coveralls and masks happened, and for some reason it worked, therefore we had to
kind of continue with
it. We got stuck with it." Now that they're stuck with it, they hardly feel like
themselves without it. Shawn feels
that "...the masks are extensions of our personalities. Everybody's got sort of
a tweaked, demented way
about themselves, and we just alter the masks over time. It feels really, really
good when we wear our
masks for an hour, and then afterwards we take them off, and the first thing we
do is go, 'God, what a
relief!,' but we always seem to put 'em back on after a show and walk around the
place." And the
visual presentation will change over time, just as the music certainly will. "I
think things will always be
changing with Slipknot. Everybody grows older every year, and with that you
change, and that's
somethin' Slipknot is always going to do." As for the number assignments they
wear on their coverall
sleeves, they're lucky numbers, significant and vitally important to each
member. When choosing them,
"Everybody fell into a number," says Shawn. "There was not one person in the
band arguing over a
number. It was really weird." Thanks to a hefty Ross Robinson production job on
SLIPKNOT, Slipknot's
vision, part one, has been successfully realized. Shawn feels that Robinson was
as highly motivated
to work on the record as the band were to work with him: "We're a highly, highly
aggressive band, and
very seldom do we meet people who are in the realm of our aggressiveness when we
play as a unit,
and Ross took us into the recording room and was throwing punches at us. He was
into it. Ross got
up every day and went and worked out so he could be in shape to do our album."
When label reps
and Robinson himself came to Des Moines to check out Slipknot at their best (on
stage), the members
were left with little more to do for after-show entertainment than go to local
strip clubs. After hosting
guest after guest, the band were completely burnt out. Now, nobody in Slipknot
ever wants to step inside
a strip club again (it's Des Moines's leading form of entertainment,
incidentally). Shawn grunts in disgust:
"Fuck the strip bars. Fuck taking anybody to strip joints. We got shit to do."
The "shit" is wrapped up
in a pretty little package called SLIPKNOT. It's the discordant sound of the
middle of nowhere, a terrain
where Slipknot is jester and king... Bio Courtesy of Roadrunner Records
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