Brütal Søng: “The Blister Exists”
Album: Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses)
No stranger to both the Brütal Søng of the Week archive (I talk about “Dead Memories” right here) and my album reviews (my critique of Iowa can be found here), Slipknot is one of my favorite metal bands to come along in recent memory. They encompass the no-frills vigor of Slayer and Pantera, while capturing the tight songwriting chops of Metallica. They’re a total package.
And Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses) has to be the most underrated album they have released to date; it is my second favorite after their masterfully savage self-titled debut Slipknot. While everybody was busy salivating over Iowa (the one album of theirs I believe is overrated), fans were initially disillusioned by the band’s third outing. Where were the excessive f-bombs? The violent intensity in each note? And is that harmony I hear? And an acoustic guitar? What is this filth? I want my Maggot money back!
Yeah…just shut up now. Before I beat you with the nearest blunt object I can find.
I could have easily picked any one of the album’s fourteen tracks: the bipolar jam “The Nameless,” the crowd pleaser “Pulse Of The Maggots,” the somber metal ballad “Vermillion,” or its acoustic brother “Vermillion, Pt. 2.” But I am going with “The Blister Exists,” because it essentially sums up the sound of this entire album in little over five minutes. Perhaps more so than “Pulse of the Maggots,” this is THE anthem that nearly everyone knows about and is THE song to witness live. And that snare drum hook? Classic.
It wouldn’t be difficult to just write these guys off as a bunch of dudes who wear masks and perform wild antics on stage to divert peoples’ attention away from their lack of real musicianship. But for Slipknot, that just isn’t the case. They might lure people in with the masks, the jumpsuit getup, the album artwork, the Parental Advisory stickers, and the stage theatrics, but what really keeps fans on their toes is the music itself. Heavy, aggressive and lurid, Slipknot’s music speaks to the irate sociopath in all of us.
And for added fun, here’s Bart getting in trouble with The White Stripes. Kills me every time.