Slipknot - 9.0: Live - Roadrunner Records 2005
Running Time - Disc 1: 55:51- Disc 2: 62:15
In which nine men in masks and coveralls present themselves as the be all end
all of metal and extremity in the live setting. Only three
commercially-available albums deep into their career, Shit...err...Slipknot apparently felt the need to document the intensity of their concerts in the format of a live release. Which basically means that nearly half of each album they've put out is represented on this, their ten-year anniversary gift to the maggots. Let's get this out front right now. To say I wasn't a fan of Slipknot's studio albums is like saying summer in the Sahara is "a little warm". From the first album, I've put Slipknot firmly in the "it seemed like a good idea at the time" section of my musical mindscape. When I heard about the band at first (just after MFKR and before the self-titled debut), I thought to myself, "Three drummers, shows where band members injure not only themselves but each other, and a fucking Clown as well? This could be entertaining.". Unfortunately, what I found therein was sub-par in songwriting, the band spending far too much time on presentation and not enough on producing the audio massacre I was expecting. And so here I sit, this live album doing two things in the way of changing my opinion on Slipknot. Jack and shit...and I'm almost out of Jack.
9.0: Live (recorded worldwide over much of 2004, and possibly some of 2005) is just what you'd expect it to be. A case study in what happens when a Hot Topic explodes onstage. The maggots reading this will chalk my hatred for this pile of steaming shit up to "not getting it", or being "pussy". Well, then I'm the most not-getting-it-est pussy around, because I really don't see the fucking need in a double-live CD this early in the game, no matter the band. The versions of the songs appearing here are virtually identical to those on the studio albums, even further negating the need for purchase. The die-hards who snap up everything Slipknot ever breathes, burps, or farts will be on this like (appropriately) stink on shit, though, and the label is banking on that I'm sure, hoping for huge sales to help ease the holiday crunch felt by the music industry ever since Al Gore invented that godforsaken "internet" thingy. When Corey yells "Now it's time for everyone in Phoenix to jump!" in the intro to 'Liberate', visions of Fred Durst ran amuck through my head, scattering B-boy bounce and backwards baseball caps throughout. I've witnessed more passionate performances in Lifetime Original Movies than I hear on this disc. A Dillinger Escape Plan show with the members confined to wheelchairs and in straightjackets would hold more potential for honest, real danger. Mall-metal at its "finest".