Slipknot
Iowa

THE REVIEW

There were already five reviews for this shitty album, but I enjoy messing around and taking up empty space, so I jotted down a few lines to share my thoughts on Iowa, being one of the few (I hope) losers to have listened to it entirely. Flipping through its pages, I quickly notice that the booklet is as tacky as I can remember since the days of Antichrist Superstar by the reverend Manson: glossy paper with lyrics printed on it, then mathematical calculations, arithmetic and (could they miss?) explicit references to Peppe Satan, known as O’Animalo, presented in the form of a "sheep" (indeed) on a cheeky and moreover silver cover, in the style of a special card of Alex Del Piero by Figurine Panini. However, we all know that the paper component ultimately counts relatively little (if the music is good, it's good even transferred on my grandpa's C90!), so armed with the best intentions, I play the CD and (surprise!) I realize that the sound of Iowa is as dull and stupid as the booklet...

Heavily sponsored by the Ozzfest bandwagon (but it seems that not even their "on stage" presence saves them!), Slipknot delivers in Iowa 30 stretched minutes (excluding the pseudo-dark pretense and pomp of the title track: a quarter of an hour simply useless!) of fast & furious nu-metal with rare openings to the bastard and catchy "melodies" that characterized their successful debut. It's worth mentioning that #8 aka Corey Taylor gives it his all: screams, drools, moans, and wrecks his pharyngeal cable before collapsing to the ground senseless. But the rest of the band of clowns does not follow him with the same hardworking commitment. The violent percussion, tense riffs, and that vague yet appreciable "foresight" style that emerged in the first album (the burst of drum'n'bass camouflaged-but-very-well in "Eyeless") are lost here in a fanfare of artificial and predictable sounds/noises.

The percussionists have hidden behind the DJ, who has hidden behind the guitarists (yeah, right! GUITARISTS...?!) who are in turn hidden behind the bassist-who-isn't-there. And so the supermarket satanism of "The Heretic Anthem," the crude aggression of "People=Shit" (a pearl of retroactive wisdom), the dirty urgency of episodes like "Disasterpiece," "New Abortion," and "Skin Ticket" (like a pimply twelve-year-old’s quickies under a hormonal dysfunction on a Sunday morning). "Left Behind," "Everything Ends," and "My Plague" somewhat stand out for the courage with which Slipknot reinterpret themselves (kitsch spread on kitsch, then!?) and sing of times gone by.

It should be emphasized that our guys, under the guidance of daddy Ross Robinson, have cooperated in the production of the album and that a makeup artist was officially hired (Freddy Krueger, thus debunking rumors about Slot from the Goonies!) for style care: new suits and retouched masks (and now they are indeed cool!). Wow... what a shitty disaster! Everything very cool, very calculated. I miss the shorts with visible calves of Tom Araya and the filthy shirts of Phil Anselmo! Ultimately, Iowa is only good for the soundtrack of a hypothetical horror-porn-gory-rubbish movie starring Del Piero!

p.s: I really had nothing to do this afternoon.