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Of these nü metal is made: dropped tunings, hip hop inflections, syncopation, Jackass-style subject matter, Maury Povitch worthy confessional, and the biggest, dumbest, heaviest, poppiest pay-off riffs ever written. It was pure reptile brain. Whatever subtlety grunge’s insouciance and irony possessed, nü metal lacked. Whatever artistry “alt nation” was supposed to renew in the American psyche nü metal denied. This was about hopping out of your hatchback in the 7-11 parking lot to threaten the fourteen year old you swear to fucking god said some shit about your girl and you’re ready to fucking go right now if he wants to go, bitch. This was also the soundtrack for crying alone in your room about how you’re FINE–Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional, instinctively touching the place where Dad left all the bruises last time. This dual character is, by the way, what’s great about the genre.

Read More: Life Is Peachy: Nü Metal And America | http://www.invisibleoranges.com/life-is-peachy-nu-metal-and-america/?trackback=tsmclip

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