An album with a strong concept like the loss of a loved one always garners morbid attention, especially in the rock-metal universe where contemplations on passing, spirals, and macabre dissertations always exert a certain fascination. In the case of Korn's latest album, the creative inspiration is heavily influenced by the death of the iconic singer Jonathan Davis's ex-wife, a founding pillar of the group. Consequently, The Nothing is an album about loss, anger, and the descent into the abyss of despair, after all, even the cover doesn't seem to indicate positivity, and more or less self-destructive impulses have always characterized the band's lyrics.

These are at least the intentions. From the very beginning, even too theatrical (just over a prologue), where the singer cries, despairs, and curses under the usual "signature" bagpipes, there's no trace of anguish. The album doesn't convey atmospheres and intentions balanced between allure and fear, like a Trent Reznor of The Downward Spiral; it is definitely harmless like many other Korn albums I've listened to from Untouchables onward, but very pleasing to listen to. Just from this album, I see a sort of symbolic connection, Davis seems more concerned with creating perfect pop-metal refrains with a precise melodic search. However, these parts often seem disconnected from the rest, as if they were sewn between sections. Practically all the tracks, aided by impeccable and massively enhanced production, assault the listener with very heavy riffs, often quite evocative, or various oddities; however, the course is always reset with very catchy choruses as mentioned, I wouldn't define them as mainstream, but the structure is blatantly pop with verses, very cursory bridges (if not absent), and super refrains that often have nothing to do with it. All alternated with the aforementioned metal bombardments, very often beautiful. Another group I fondly remember for such inconsistency is Fear Factory, so it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

An exemplary case - I’ll start naming a few titles - is Can You Hear Me, the most radio-friendly track of the album and almost a pop-metal masterpiece: there is such a rush to get to the fantastic and evocative chorus that the verse is just a splash of color, the refrain is also majestically supported by a wall of guitars, as well as a pleasantly wavering synth in the background that ties everything magnificently while also echoing the band's somewhat fusion spirit. Here, one must truly commend Davis's compositional skill in creating these quality gems in the pneumatic void that afflicts most modern music, but it is expressed and consumed without defining an anguishing and hostile setting as the early albums did. However, those notable vocal inventiveness returns in the specials, like The Ringmaster, Idiosyncracy, and The Darkness is Revealing, where Davis engages in guttural screaming, hip-hop metrics, vocal variations of all kinds, and even ventures into drum and bass. These moments are always highly engaging, and it's a pleasure to discover what is invented to give variety to the composition. In short, Jonathan Davis truly knows what he's doing, even after years of honorable career, and he's supported by musicians with the goods. Relaxed moments are reduced, practically confined to the final track.

Ultimately, The Nothing is an excellent album that continues the qualitative line of Korn and won't change opinions about the band, with a consciously sought balance between catchiness and chaos, sometimes a bit disjointed in its parts. The lugubrious concept is a disguise without side effects for an album that doesn't even try to stray from the sound consolidated in recent albums, and perhaps that's perfectly fine. If it's true that an artist conveys their emotions to the listener through their work, here, little true sadness comes through.

Loading comments  slowly