(SLIPKNOT) Who are those masked men?
Saturday 26th February 2000
Words Fiona Shepherd
Anyone who has been following Channel 4's deliciously sarcastic Top Ten series will have noted the intrigue created by Kiss (No 10 in the US stadium rock show) with their trademark stage make-up and the subsequent amazement when they ditched the slap in the Nineties and revealed their true identities. Get real! Did Adam Ant blow his cover when he lost his stripes? Painting your face doesn't make you an enigma. For genuine anonymity you need masks. Think Frank Sidebottom (No 5, sad novelty gits), think The Residents (No 8, art rock wierdos), and now think Slipknot (No. 1, freaky nu-metal saviours). The nine masked metal marauders from Des Moines, Iowa, have just hit these shores with intent to petrify.
Slipknot's masks are more in the tradition of slasher horror than camp theatricality. Singer Corey Taylor's mask is inspired by the Texas Chainsaw Massacre's Leatherface, percussionist Shawn Crahan evokes all the fear of the fair in his clown mask, recalling the sadistic Pennywise from Stephen King's It, while drummer Joey Jordison outspooks the lot with his Halloween/Friday 13th hockey mask*. In the early days, the band actually did wear "hilarious" stage costumes but these were eventually ditched for being too jokey. Now their showmanship is more blattercore than cabaret. Band members wear uniform boilersuits, each with its own number and barcode. It's the latest in death row chic.
"So many bands are built on faces and fashion and it's complete tripe," says Taylor. "So with the masks we're like: Guess what? This is my face; this is the music that gives me my face. And the numbers were a direct response to name-dropping. Who are you? Doesn't matter. Did you know me before this band? No? Well I'm 8 to you." But why start the numbers at zero? "Sid wanted 0, I wanted 8. It just happened that way."
A Slipknot show is a blood-and-vomit soaked scene of carnage, during which this self-styled, "family unit" unravels like a supremely twisted subversion of The Waltons. In addition to guitar/bass/drums/grunting, Slipknot employs two percussionists who enjoy an unhealthy rivalry plus members who commandeer samplers and turntables. Never mind the extra dynamic dimension this gives their thrash metal powerhouse - the trouble starts with the extra bodies flying around. Literally flying around in the case of DJ Sid Wilson who regularly exercises his death wish by leaping from venue balconies. "He's got issues to work out, just like all of us, " explains Taylor.
Injuries to the fans are not unheard of; among the band, they are to be expected. Apart from the asphyxiating properties of their masks, there have been dislocated shoulders, slipped discs and broken limbs. And that's just Crahan, a man who will happily flip a coin with you to see who gets to throw the first punch.
"I've had staples in my head," says Taylor, not to be outdone. "My dreads have whipped my eye and cut my cornea". That's happened twice. I've had to do shows with eye patches on. It's crazy shit. There's a lot of action, a lot of puke, and a lot of damage. We're putting the pain and the feeling back into the show and the fact that the kids come to see us is testimony to the fact that they've been missing it for too long."
Slipknot are part escapism and grim reality. That's what the fans are tuning into, in increasing numbers. Their lyrics, music, masks and stage exploits are a product of boredom. You can blame/thank agricultural Iowa for this lot.
"Growing up in a place like Des Moines is a lot like growing up in a graveyard and being the only house on your street," says Taylor. "It forces a certain self-maintenance because if you want more you're going to have go out and do it yourself. We're big in a lot of these small towns because they know; they've been through it; they live it now. We're showing them we came from nowhere, and we're going somewhere and you can do it too. All you have to do is work, you have to be good at what you do and believe you're good at what you do."
Sounds like the American Dream, wearing a scary face. In conversation they like to emphasize the ultimately positive effect of harnessing their adolescent desperation. Musically and lyrically, they take a different approach. "This is no king of life/I've got to get out." they rail on No Life.
The band formed in 1995 and produced a limited-edition album the following year. Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat first introduced their People=Shit "philosophy" but it was not until they hooked up with Korn producer Ross Robinson and made Slipknot (their UK debut) that the disease spread to near-epidemic proportions. Slipknot has passed the million sales mark worldwide and now the UK is bracing itself for the onslaught.
Slipknot rage way harder than most of the current US rock imports, touching on those everyday concerns of insanity, paranoia, pain, alienation, mutilation and murder and avoiding the lame misogyny and adolescent sniggering of the MTV-friendly sports metal bands like The Offspring and Limp Bizkit (their sworn enemies). But the band blot their copybook on a hidden album track which features the band gurgling and gagging in response to a lurid snuff movie.
Unsurprisingly, Slipknot are the latest scapegoats for the moral majority. Radio play is a problem. Even MTV approach them with caution. "I love it," says Taylor, of the outrage they so effortlessly provoke. "I couldn't give one f*** about that corporate shit and I'm from the MTV generation. Now it's a giant Coke commercial. If they play our video at four in the morning to people in Tunafish, Wisconsin, I don't give a shit."
This welcome is no warmer in the UK. HMV ran scared of a string of in-store signing sessions. Virgin has stepped into the breach but there will be no autographing of guitars and body parts, lest Western civilisation as we know it should collapse. Local councils are getting shirty; shows will be picketed.
"They want to label us as satanic so they can understand it but we're worse than that because we're telling the truth", says Taylor. "People = Shit is going to be our motto for a while until we can think of something else that will piss off Wolverhampton Council*."
On a final, more tender note, is there anything that these latterday Travis Bickles do care about? "I give a f*** about three things - one, action figures; two, these faggots I'm in a band with; and three, the kids who come to our shows. It all stems from the music. If I didn't have music I wouldn't be alive. If I didn't have these guys I wouldn't be able to make music because these guys are the closest thing to family I've ever had. And the kids who come to our shows I'd lay down and die for. It's a giant cycle - and action figures are pretty cool."
Slipknot play Barrowland, Glasgow on Monday 28 February. They will be signing acceptable items of merchandise at Virgin, Buchanan Street, Glasgow at noon.
Notes
Hockey Mask: It is a Noh mask.
Wolverhampton Council: Banned Slipknot after Sid Wilson stage dived and hurt a fan. He was, however, very upset and went to see her in the hospital.
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