Korn gives hope to metal

Geoff Carter

Friday, Aug. 11, 2000 | 9:05 a.m.

On Monday I sat through a Slaughter/Dokken/Cinderella/Poison show. The bands were, for the most part, very boring.

I'm setting myself up for a considerable lashing, saying things like that. I've never really met any hair rock fans, but I read their letters, and they all go something like this: "You (expletive). Why don't you listen to the Backstreet Boys and N'STINK because that's the kind of music you're into, you (expletive)."

OK, why? Am I the only one who thinks Dokken can't cut it anymore? That just because a guy can "really play," it doesn't necessarily mean he's entertaining someone as he does so? As I watched the bands, I kinda did that counting-the-seconds thing, and pondered life after hair rock.

And, I suppose, I gave thought to the show I was to cover Wednesday night: Korn, at the Thomas & Mack Center. I wondered if there would be a post-Korn era -- Korn, Limp Bizkit, Sevendust and Soulfly, all on the same ticket -- and if there was to be one, how I would feel about it. Would I give Korn vocalist Jonathan Davis the same grief I gave Don Dokken? Would I write them off as camp followers, the same kind of also-rans as Poison or Cinderella?

As it turned out, Korn impressed me. Not only could they "really play" -- guitarists James "Munky" Shaffer and Brian "Head" Welch, in particular -- but they were more entertaining and made a more intimate room of the T&M than Poison could hope to make of the Hard Rock's Joint.

Sure, they had gimmicks -- a Pink Floydish balloon of the rag doll on the cover of their latest album, "Issues," stands out. But they also had something many hard rock bands, new and old, are lacking in -- a collective personality trait so rare and evasive that I don't even think I could name it. As best as I could put it: control. Korn had control.

Vocalist Jonathan Davis may wear a kilt and play the occasional bagpipes, but he's as compelling a rock frontman as any I've seen. He doesn't move much; he doesn't have to. His eyes do all the hard work -- and when they were shown, even fleetingly, on the stage-flanking monitors, he had the audience nailed down.

Of course, a gorgeous, oval-shaped stage set (with hidden monitors and amplifiers -- nice touch) didn't hurt the band's overall presentation. Ten minutes into Korn's set, a local promoter said to me, "This is the best new metal production I've ever seen." Not knowing from young metal I agreed, because Korn did put on an exceptional set -- a right treat for both eyes and ears.

Opening act Powerman 5000 made its own special noise. It's been a real pleasure watching this Boston-based metal band -- dimly related to power ghoul Rob Zombie -- make the move from club-sized venues to sports arenas inside of a year, and all I can say is they deserve every bit of it.

Even if they're doomed to have a few medium-sized hits, I will see them again and again -- even pre-packaged with Sevendust and Limp Bizkit. Poison and Dokken are mortal, but new metal will never die. It's just too tough to care what the fans think.