Shortly after deplaning in 2005 at what was then Chiang Kai-Shek International Airport, I felt as if I had stepped into a time capsule.
It wasn’t the temple architecture or traditional culture. It was because here in Taiwan, just over 10,000km from my hometown, a small central-Canadian city where even we simple plains folk had long ago laughed it off, nu-metal was still a thing.
It was a culture shock that had nothing to do with language or custom. I was left agog at many things in those days, but this baggy pants, backwards ball cap relic from the bad old days of the mid-to-late nineties had me floored.
Photo courtesy of Kristina Servant
There were musicians unashamedly doling out dumbed-down, one-finger riffs on drop-D tuned seven string guitars. Rappers were busting rhymes in a mix of Mandarin and English over top. Drummers were transplanting syncopated kick and snare beats into the mix like they had just stepped out of a Public Enemy video.
For the most part, nu-metal had already had its day in the West. But here in the East, it was very much alive, and not in a retro kitsch sort of way. Much to my astonishment, it was still legitimately popular.
Fast forward 10 years and somehow I’m still here. Perhaps even more astonishing, so is nu-metal. In August, Heartown Festival (山海屯音樂節) in Taichung was headlined by Floridian philosopher kings Limp Bizkit, still dropping wisdom as to what they did at all for (the nookie) and where you could stick that cookie (that mystery of mysteries, your “yeah”).
Photo courtesy of Greggo Russell
Here we are a few months later and who do you suppose is coming to town? Korn, another blast from that brief snippet of the past when having a live DJ in your band was actually the norm.
Though Korn and the aforementioned group named for a confectionery with issues of rigidity were lumped in with the nu-metal crowd, they were in fact two vastly different animals.
From a lyrical and image point of view, Korn always seemed like the guys Limp Bizkit (aside from guitarist Wes Borland, who distanced himself from his band mates in every conceivable way) would have stuffed in a locker or duct taped to the goalposts.
Limp Bizkit was for the jocks. Korn was for the freaks. Korn always had that creepy, menacing vibe going for it — the hint of something sinister below the surface. The wafting scent of synapses burnt to oblivion in a flash fire of mental trauma, driven by singer Jonathan Davis’ broken man delivery.
Both had their moments of schlock, no doubt about it, and those moments could last for years and span several albums. Come to think of it, Limp Bizkit made a career out of it. At least for Korn the argument could be made here and there for some artistic legitimacy.
Then they went ahead and made a dubstep album, jumping from one tired trend to another. Guitarist Brian “Head” Welch lost his mind on methamphetamine, found god and left the band in 2005, only to return almost a decade later.
In short, on the worn out road to super stardom, Korn hit every cliched roadblock along the way, from substance abuse to getting their head stuck up their collective “yeah” in the purely artistic sense. But they’re still here. Unlike their Florida counterparts, still putting out new music. Still touring. Still big in Taiwan? We’ll soon find out.
■ Korn plays Nov. 19 at the Taipei Physical Education College Gymnasium (台北市立大學天母校區體育館), 101 Zhongcheng Rd, Sec 2, Taipei City (台北市忠誠路二段101號). Tickets range from NT$1,500 to NT$4,000, and are available at ibon kiosks at 7-Eleven.
This weekend will see a first and quite possibly a last within a single night. Triangle hosts its first ever live band tomorrow in an evening that might well prove bittersweet, as it marks the last appearance on a Taiwan stage for quite some time for longtime expat drummer Greggo Russell.
If you play music in Taiwan, whether you’re part of the foreign or the local scene, the mere mention of the name Greggo is enough to bring up a knowing smile and likely a tale or two. Over the past decade, Russell has woven himself into every facet of music here, sitting behind the kit for more bands than likely even he can remember. If you were a musician and in need of a drummer, he was one of, if not the go-to guy.
Russell will soon be taking an extended vacation from Isla Formosa for the next couple of years. But before he goes, he’ll sit in one more time with one of his longstanding groups, High Tide.
This could be a goodbye, or it could be more of a “see you later.” But don’t be surprised if somewhere down the line, you pitch up to a show in Taipei or elsewhere in Taiwan, and see him beating them skins with that same placid grin, the trademark confidence and the oh so casual flair. You can’t keep a good man down.
■ Riddum Night is tomorrow at Triangle, 1, Yumen St, Taipei City (台北市玉門街1號). High Tide, Skaraoke and La Cumbia del Sol will perform, with DJ @llenblow taking to the turntables following the bands. Tickets are NT$300 at the door with one drink.
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