Never underestimate the power of the most magical time of the year to bring people together. Not Christmas, of course, but Slipknot’s first UK tour in four years which closes out tonight at London’s O2. You’d be mistaken if you believe that the band who’ve taken great pleasure over the last twenty five years in shocking the mainstream with their antics would create anything less than a community celebration of the power of heavy music. Celebrating twenty five years of Slipknot’s original self-titled album is a genius move; it was, after all, the album that made them famous, and the album that built up their lovingly-monikered maggot fanbase. Performing it in its entirety, just louder, harder and more intensively than we remember, is what we’re here for. The all encompassing rejoicing that whips up a thousands-strong pit is just a bonus.
It’s a special show for Bleed From Within too. “The self titled Slipknot record is one of the reasons that we are a band,” exclaims vocalist Scott Kennedy. They’re the perfect support, with enough of the Slipknot sound to hype us up, but also enough of their own flavour to show us where that inspiration has been taken. Our hands sprout up like shoots nourished by darkness, drawn towards the riffs from ‘I am Damnation’, the arena filling before our eyes. There’s a beautiful willingness in the air, a desire to throw ourselves into ‘Levitate’, our arms raised to Kennedy’s ripped desperation in his euphoric, tortured vocals. New song ‘In Place Of Your Halo’ features tiny piano touches that head into a raw shred and a punching chorus. By the end of their brief set, we are beyond ready for Slipknot, preemptively lighting our phones across the area in anticipation.
“I said it last night and I’ll say it again,” Corey Taylor says, the smile behind his mask almost audible, “London, it’s like coming home. They stuffed so many people in this goddamn place.” From the moment ‘(sic)’ drops, the whole place has gone off, our appetite finally sated to re-live the original moment Slipknot. burst into the world, iconic in their uniforms, perfect in their choreographed rage. Taylor’s brief pause comes after ‘Eyeless’ sends the floor seething, the song charged with vocals like bullets and isolated guitar like a sewer tunnel. His vocals rise to the top of the finest circle of hell that is ‘Wait And Bleed’ while bucket drummers masquerading as demon clowns hit an oil drum with a baseball bat, our only respite from their dimension a minute guitar solo. Now, the frontman is here to make a promise. “Welcome back to 19-fucking-99. For one night only, you will not hear one fucking song written after 1999…” This album is no less powerful for being dragged forward in time, our nostalgia burned off like a layer of grease in favour of re-discovering their glorious brand of noise.
Taking breaks for mini DJ sets could be seen as excuse for Slipknot to recuperate (“We will give you another twenty five years, we promise you that,” shouts Taylor, unaware that in another quarter century, he’ll be seventy six years old), but the downtime is welcome respite from the juggernaut that is their set. His mask’s glowing red eyes are the last remnant of light onstage after ‘Eeyore’ proves to be a track that could sweep you away with it’s vigour. A circle pit opens like a sinkhole caused by ‘Me Inside’s rhythmic growling opens, the disconcerting rhythmic glitches building rather than breaking. Consuming and otherworldly, the jagged vibrancy of their show erupts with ’Liberate’s rolling riffs and ‘Purity’s primitive, haunting opening, Taylor’s voice a murmured incantation. “How would you like to get into deep cuts, motherfucker?” He yells before ‘No Life’; their rap side invigorates like a nuclear blast untrained by nostalgia, a warehouse cyber voodoo that screeches and infects.
Even as far as the encore, there’s a sense of organised chaos, held together through guitar as tight as razor wire on ‘Surfacing’ acting a shuddering tour guide through an underworld of nasty noise. “We will never fucking forget tonight,” declared Taylor. “The first time we played this song in London was December 13th 1999. Just like that time, would you like to go some place very dark with us?” As if he needed to ask. Bringing forth bucket drummer scrapes, he rubs his hands with glee as acid rain guitar picks up for their extended version of ‘Scissors’. The last in a solid hour of crowd surfers are churned up like unearthed magma forced into lava.
Reimagining a specific moment in time, when Slipknot first exploded into the world, is the glue that we needed to round off a fantastic year of music, and draw five digits worth of fans together. While Taylor might not be able to keep his promise to do a fiftieth anniversary spectacular, that doesn’t really matter. For one brief. Shining evening, we were back at the turn of the last millennium, re-introducing ourselves to the behemoth that is Slipknot.
KATE ALLVEY