Just as Iron Maiden and Judas Priest were the targets of fearful
record-burning groups in the '80s, Marilyn Manson and Korn are the hated
objects of many a righteous parent in the late '90s. And this is not entirely
without good reason:the vulgarity and sickness of many of Korn's lyrics,
while no different from the average language of the teen punk on the street,
would disgust anyone except an audience used to it. In the celebration
of depravity, however, there remains a sad sense of what's
been lost.
First, the music. The hybrid metal/hip-hop/funk sound that Korn pioneered is still in effect, with ever-increasing experimentation. The album's title is in part a reference to the number of bands (e.g. Deftones, System of a Down, Coal Chamber, etc.) following in their wake, imitating the tortured vocals, wicked drum and bass interplay, trippy effects drifting like smoke in the frequent interludes, and of course, super-heavy downtuned jackhammer riffs which traditional metal bands could only dream of. The band trots out much more melody (mutated Korn-style) than in the past, inching closer to the radio exposure they've had no need of so far.
Friends of the band like Ice Cube, Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit, and Tre Hardson of Pharcyde make guest lyric-writing and vocal appearances. The back-and-forth insult match between Durst and Davis on "All in the Family" is actually really cool as far as song structure goes, but the lyrics are unfortunately the foulest of the bunch. Stick around 'till ten minutes into track 25 and you'll be treated to a cover of Cheech Marin's classic "Earache My Eye," with Cheech himself helping out.
Production values are still perched high on the pinnacle of perfection, as with most bands on the Sony label. You won't find better-textured guitar tones anywhere, and the mixing is incredible.
While the title is a reference to other bands copying them, the artwork (done by Spawn-creator Todd McFarlane) features a line of children walking to the edge of a cliff with glowing fire far below. Is it a critical commentary on the demise of youth society and the falling of so many children's souls into hell, or a celebration of that descent?
Paradoxes of that type plague Korn's identity and lyrics, especially with reference to frontman Jonathan Davis. He began his career full of pain and hate boiling over from a history of abuse as a child and ostracization in high school. The music was a type of catharsis, gaining its fiery energy from Davis's anguished past. Three albums later, though, and he's still on the same emotional crutches. Once someone realizes and understands what in their past causes so much hurt, they should be able to move on. But Davis appears to be stuck in the pit and wallowing in the same darkness that blackened his youth, a living example of man's inability to save himself even with a deep-down knowledge of the consequences of sin.
In "Seeds", he acknowledges that inner hollowness he feels when he looks at his young son:
Follow the Leader is chock full of groundbreaking, killer music, but the overall vibe is just too negative, sad, and sick. On the one hand Korn is finding a generation of fans which relates to a messed-up childhood, but on the other they're only messing up further all those impressionable minds. It's a mistake to categorically write off certain music as many Christians do, but if you wish to be edified by your music, I'd say not to play Follow the Leader.
By Josh Spencer (12/6/98)
