We’re you an angry white suburban kid that by all accounts had no reason to be angry? Chances are you were the key demo for Fred Durst & Wes Borland’s seminal band Limp Bizkit… I know I was that kid.
After the poorly received double bomb of Results May Vary and The Unquestionable Truth Pt. 1, it seemed like the death nail had already been driven in. Imagine my surprise when I heard that after almost 6 years, the original line up was coming back to make a whole new album, apparently because they’d grown bored with the current music scene… That’s actually fucking awesome. Not even ironically awesome.
A lot of people who’ve followed bands don’t have the luxury of their bands maintaining a level of consistency over the years; ask fans about their favorite bands from the 60’s and 70’s (Hell, up to any generation), so I was wholly prepared to hate whatever this Gold Cobra was going to become. Imagine my surprise when I walked in expecting the Bizkit, and got The Bizkit.
Say what you will about this group, they had a specific voice. Whether you believed it, followed it or were ever bothered to hear it, they were there. Gold Cobra has that voice that was lost after Chocolate Starfish, from the Intro to Combat Jazz, the wanton youthful energy of the 90’s is prominent throughout the whole experience.
Gold Cobra leads the charge with their signature reckless abandon, party-mosh rhythm. Shark Attack and Get a Life follow suite with the twisted humor and blunt, humility-free middle finger wave at the people not joining in on the fun. Douche Bag challenges you. Yes, you. Like the chorus says, “I’ma fuck you up,” with all the disdain of a 80’s movie jock. Slowing down with Walking Away, the group flexes their fully competent power ballad chops. It’s a welcome break from the raw energy with a cool rolling wave of emotional content; it’s oddly sincere, like the cry of a dying animal, it’s raw, but real.
2 tracks that round out the tail end of the album bring it to an explosive crescendo. Why Try and Killer in You seem to offer a dueling perspective on the same call-to-arms. One tells you to Die, the other tells you to Fight. It’s potent, it’s heavy, and Borland’s psychedelic sonic experimentation is in full force as it drills itself into your very core. You will bang your head.
As I listen to this again, I think it’s oddly reflective of the times we live in. We live in a world where a perfectly empowered youth presents a complete lack of interest in the conventions of our world, knowingly divorcing themselves from the last generation with a song and a looping GIF-set. It’s a surprisingly youthful mood piece full of passion, yet contradicting wearing the mask of the nihilistic “whatever,” mantra spitting flannel of the 90’s. It has all the energy and meaning of a time capsule, a lost voice from my generation that despite it’s displacement on the surface, has something that still rings true today. What it lacks in a flag to carry, it has a bizarre wisdom that hopefully the next generation will heed as it’s finds it’s own meaning, it’s own cross to bare. When a Poser lives to become the real deal.
Sometimes, all you need is something to kick you in the ass and get you moving. Gold Cobra does this.