Okay, I admit it- I have a soft spot for Limp Bizkit. But before you judge me, you should know that their guitarist, bassist, and drummer are actually really good musicians. They write masterful and original parts and, with another singer, could have gone down in the annals of music history as a pretty solid band. But then Fred Durst rolls up and, of course, fucking CRUSHES it, cementing their reputation as a FUCKING INCREDIBLE band.
Let’s start with the basics – Nookie
When you hear the instrumental you immediately recognize it. It stands out as definitively Limp Bizkit. It’s a weird and quirky groove, beautifully complex, yet simplistically catchy. It’s perfect. That is until Durst adds the lyrics, and then you realize NOW it’s perfect. The one thing missing was a reference to inserting a cookie into an anatomical orifice.
Want further proof? Let’s go back in time a little and revisit Sour.
Here’s a quick exercise for ya: ask any guitarist to play the riff in this song. I bet they can’t. The instrumental is nothing short of brilliant. As always, interesting in its intricacies, yet blended into the backdrop so as not to distract. Like every other Wes Borland riff, the one thing missing was a rap rock bro tastefully expressing, “I sound like a bitch, a little bitch in heat, with all that anger that I’m feelin, bitch I think it’s heat.” Perfection.
Though there are literally thousands of killer songs by the Bizkit, we’re gonna examine one more to exemplify our aforementioned theory: Rearranged.
You definitely remember it. They’re in the jail cells that fill up with milk or something? More importantly, when that Bum ba-dum bah, budle-a-bum, buddle-a-bah dah dup on the bass plays, everyone is immediately on board. How many bands have singles that are universally recognized within the first second? Barely any! That’s why The Biz’ is the GOAT.
While that fat bass riff mind melds with a funky drum groove and eerie guitar tones tastefully sweep above, what could possibly improve upon such an engaging instrumental? You guessed it: a faux nu-metal dude pseudo-rapping. Unfortunately the lyrics make no mention of attacking someone with a chainsaw, nor do they even come remotely close to, “Fucked up aids, from fucked up sex, fake ass titties, on a fucked up chest,” but they serve their purpose.
So there you have it. Just a few examples of how Limp Bizkit without Fred Durst would be great, instead of the best fucking band ever. If you disagree with anything in this article, in the words of Fred in the seminal release N 2 Gether Now, “Shut the fuck up!”