“There’s times in life where you’ll not realise and appreciate what is in front of you. If I can give you any piece of advice, take every chance you get”; you never know how far it’ll lead you.
If age permits, picture yourself 25 years ago. Where were you and what were you doing? Was it somewhere, doing something to make you proud and was it recognisable, or, in the moment, were you unaware that ‘it’s just the beginning’; the start of No Life you could have ever imagined?
Whether the answers are unequivocal, unclear or, more likely, somewhere in between is besides the point. It is the conscious consideration that is most significant, for, by asking, evolution occurs. From the habit and with time and practice, you might discover; the most golden of opportunities is borne from adversity, there is beauty in Duality, even when disguised within time’s most brutal lessons.
Bringing us to this moment, each question is the key to appreciation: every choice and lesson led us to life’s meaning, answering why and for what purpose we wear, and what lies behind the mask.
Interrogations all must face, none know this better than SLIPKNOT. Rising to meteoric fame in 1999, the turn of the new millennium and golden age of music provided the ideal microcosm for ‘The Nine to arrive’. Slipknot were a conduit, the embodiment of Gen Y, who challenged societal norms. No idol nor subject taboo, every aspect ready for redefinition, it was recognised; Everything Ends, even ourselves, so why not now?
‘Open to discussion’, disguised yet concurrently the most recognisable band in the world, Slipknot asserted We Are Not Your Kind, immediately giving confidence to millions to do the same. Generational predecessors undoubtedly paved the way, but no others ran the gauntlet quite like them, defying conduct and critics for survival.
So, here we all are, a quarter-century later. Alongside those we love and some we’ve Left Behind, the old guard introducing those who’ll inherit the legacy, still chanting with vicious pride: ‘Fuck it all, fuck this world, fuck everything that you stand for. Don’t belong, don’t exist, don’t give a shit, don’t ever judge me!’
I do not wish to patronisingly compare, Des Moines’ second generation are an enigmatic quintet, VENDED are their own entity, but, one of the 99th vanguard, the comparisons cannot be ignored; it is like travelling into our past and foreseeing the future all at once.
Immediately accentuating the father-and-son bond, Griffin Taylor’s laugh mimics the youthful Nihilism of his father, Corey. Displaying traits of the patriarch’s model-macabre behaviour, Griffin is inimitable going from one Farside to the next, thankiing the audience “from the bottom of our heart”, whilst screaming and strategically unclasping a button loop on his dungarees.
Combining brutality with bravado, Taylor addresses his fellow ascendant’s absence – drummer Simon, son of founding member, Shaun ’Clown’ Crahan, just prior to Melbourne’s opening day of Knotfest Australia – referencing the second son’s superb substitution, THE GLOOM IN THE CORNER’s Josh Clinch, who learnt every track on just one week’s notice.
Jeremiah Pugh, whose half-mask intimates the effigy of Slipknot’s fallen brother, Paul Grey, prompts further questioning: Am I the Only One who thinks Cole Espeland is an extraverted Jim Root on rhythm guitar? Connor Grodzicki is almost invisible but for his enormous sound, adversarial but not asking for accolades, standing like an idol in the shadows.
Where the Honesty Lies and my bias controls is unknown. Vended are their own men, but being so familiar with the first, I cannot help but see the inspiration of inheritance. Throwing the setlist into the crowd, Taylor quips with a sense of foreboding; “enjoy the rest of the show, Adelaide” and welcome to the Asylum. ‘Here comes the pain!’
The psycho-circus of 742617000027 wails into (sic) amid green glows that coalesce into the twice-played in Australia, sublimely-Slipknot and intensely-coded Gematria. Corey Taylor addressing dual responsibilities, he states: “Let’s cover some fucking news” before we go any further.
“This is not quite the 25th anniversary” and the kegstand right-side-of-stage stands motionless, but “you know there was no fucking way we weren’t coming to Adelaide… and all that matters is Clown and the safety of his family”. The uproar answers our agreement, and with the promise of a full discographic performance and #6’s Dirty Little Rabbits counterpart, Michael Pfaff, performing the finest of double-duties on percussion and backup vocals tonight, there’s no need for apologies.
Maintaining fourth place is the anthem that started it all, Wait & Bleed, before the singular and defining offering from The End, For Now, Yen provides the ‘sin that I’ve been waiting for’. Pfaff plays upon a toy piano, a classically-trained talent as well as imp, as Corey sits head in hands on stage steps. The moshpit’s pull, already strong and circling since Vended’s first track, swarms and sucks an ever-radiating number of bystanders into its furore and reveals The Devil In I.
“The filth epitome, number zero”, Sid Wilson, joins Pfaff in deranged dance, before turning into industrial-dnb DJ Starscream. Strobes bouncing on his singular figure, the Tattered & Torn remix devolves into Heretic Anthem; ‘5, 5, 5’ becoming ‘6, 6, 6’, “Mr. 7”, Mick Thompson, turning Psychosocial.
The pace too much, even for former-Sepultura drummer, and centrally-positioned force of nature, Eloy Casagrande, is manned either side by Pfaff and the still-unnamed member of this evolution of the ‘Knot on standalone snare drums. An almost Lynchian scene, reminding me of Twin Peaks’ Man From Another Place, Pfaff’s adorably playful demon persona and Casagrande’s very nearly real, point blank gunshot wound to the head are tonight’s Unsainted heroes.
“Before we go any further, I want you all to know how grateful we are”; so many said Slipknot were a fad, simply shock value that would wear thin, but as The Subliminal Verses hit closes out tonight’s major set, nothing could be further from the truth.
I wish I had their assertiveness to say what I believed then and still hold true to this day. To those who doubted us, Spit It Out, so we can rebuke it, and just so we can all prove it, this encore “is dedicated to any motherfucker who tells you how to think, how to feel, and how to be”. I feel it Surfacing again, like it did so many years ago.
Original members on bended knees, a sign of respect to the newest members who perform their various solos, and to those who began this journey with them and whom “we ended this night with 25 years ago”, Scissors is for the old and the new, every Maggot and martyr who has ever felt embraced by the symbol invented by Joey Jordison and held by Michael Pfaff now, as he sits atop balustrades behind the current drummer.
Slowly and subtly rising, Slipknot have always believed in ‘biding my time until the time is right’. Unafraid to unmask the reply, they are unmatched in asking and responding to life’s hardest questions, and it’s this ability that’s assured – they’re the Only One ‘to walk away’, even 25 years later.
