Tophat665

OK, I have no problem with covers. I like a good cover that puts a new light on a song. The Cardigans' version of Iron Man, or Richard Cheese's version of Chop Suey, or Metallica's version of Thin Lizzy's version of Whiskey in the Jar, or The Gourds' version of Gin and Juice, or, so as not to leave all with the impression that a cover needs to be more mellow than the original, Devo's version of NIN's Head Like a Hole (you wouldn't think that could get much grungier, but they surprised me) or Sanctuary's cover of White Rabbit. However, these all either put a novel spin on the original song or realize the original version of the song in ways that couldn't be or just weren't done with the original. That's all fine and dandy and I appreciate it.

I also understand scumbags in rock and roll. Keith Moon was a public nightmare, and damn near every band worth mentioning in the heyday of rock was a disaster waiting to happen. That's OK. I can even understand, though I begrudge, that some of them were talentless hacks. I play better bass than Adam Claton, Sid Viscous, or Marc Anthony (or Alex Van Halen. Whichever one of them keeps riding that open A to the bank.) It peeves me, but I can still enjoy the music (particularly when I can point to a great bass riff an say, "That's the Edge playing that").

Finally, I understand that all rock and roll is largely derivative, either of older rock, or of the Blues, Rockabilly, Country, Gospel, and even Classical. (There's a Beatles tune where the main melody is Pomp and Circumstance played upside down and backwards. Wish I could remember which one.) That's OK, excellent even when the synergy of the various derived and original elements has something novel to say. However, leave your tape deck home, and leave the rapping to folks who can't afford the time to learn how to play guitar, or even afford a guitar.

However, when a derivative talentless hack scumbag like Fred Durst brings together all that's questionable in rock and roll and puts very little back, well, that's a whole 'nuther kettle of fish. I can roll with some Limp Biscuit. My Way is an excellent song, and there is energy in Break Stuff and Nookie that sometimes overcomes those dominating elements of the songs that are indistinguisable from noises that hundreds of industrial engineers spend millions of man hours each year trying to eliminate. Even their treatment of the Mission Impossible theme is not wrathworthy, if not inspiring.

However, Limp Bizkit (what kind of a jackass name is that anyway? Still I suppose we have to let that slide, wot with Led Zeppelin and Def Leppard) should be roundly excoriated and universally reviled for raping Behind Blue Eyes. They really screwed the pooch on that one. Durst's gravelly attempt at holding a tune gets a E for effort. Stacked up against Daltrey's vocal mastery, it verges on blasphemy, but if that were the only flaw in the song, it could be forgiven. However, the music is nothing but a pale mimicry of the spare excellence of the opening and closing portions of the original. Pete Townsend may be the single best rhythm guitarist who will ever grace rock and roll, and he's no slouch on the lead either. None of these unwashed children could touch his skill on the worst day of his life. Finally, the Break: Behind Blue eyes is made by that break. It is the whole reason for the song. I've listened to the dogs dinner Durst and the rest of the Primate house made of it, and I have yet to detect any vestige of that amazing, incredible, trancendental break. No cover of this song is worth the air it's hung on if it doesn't address the break.

And I don't even like the Who all that much.

Are you answered, OK?

Limp Bizkit is the Led Zeppelin of No generation, and the Who only of "Who most demonstrated that rock and roll had grown moribund in the 90's and 00's?" There is more talent in the little finger of the least talented member of either of those bands in a fraction of a second than there is in the entirety of Limp Bizkit for the entirety of their lives.

Now, don't get me wrong. I can enjoy some of their music, but I am ever thankful that P2P has obviated the need for me ever to pay for it, and remain puzzled as to how anyone could call themselves a fan of these ... whatever they are.

Oh, and Fred Durst is a Fuck, but that's almost (but not entirely) beside the point.

(Edited for fat, klutzy fingers.)

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