Irony and nostalgia have constantly plagued the millennial psyche. 2017 saw Dickies workwear, Hot Wheels flames and checkered Vans make their way onto the Instagram feeds of trendy influencers and inner-city hoppers. So Fresh CD party nights and the return of the Nokia 3310 are a as much of a cultural marker as smartphones or social media.



It’s clear that plenty of people are craving a return to a time characterised by the ignorance of youth, naivety and bliss, and for the most part the late ’90s are looked at through rose-coloured lenses – but there is one glaring beacon that, despite incredible global success, doesn’t seem to quite get the credit it deserves.



Limp Bizkit.

When the band immediately ascended to the highest echelons of rock in 1997 with a platinum debut, the public were split. Dropping machismo-drenched tracks that reeked of equal parts Brut body spray and appropriated hip hop braggadocio, the band were taken by some as a gimmick. There was a dissonance, though, between the critiques they received, and the world-conquering numbers they were raking in.

Adults clearly couldn’t stand it. But the MTV play, festival headliner status (which they’ll be bringing to Download Festival Melbourne and a slew of sideshows in March), and pop culture dominance showcased the appeal the band had to a pre-internet generation founded on Y2K nihilism.

Beginning with Korn in 1994, the genre of ‘nu metal’ was always a movement founded on misplaced youth, proving a little too edgy for kids who couldn’t quite wrap their heads around Jonathan Davis’ rambling. On their heels, Limp Bizkit ushered in a new wave of ultra-accessible heavy music that didn’t compromise on creativity or aggression.

It’s time to remember Limp Bizkit as not just an essential marker of the late ’90s global psyche, but also as a damn important rock band who can lay claim to an incredible influence, and who carved their own incredibly successful niche in a crowded market.



Showcasing his ambitions right from the off, infamous frontman Fred Durst once described Limp Bizkit as a “megaband”, and it’s undeniable that he and the band struck marketing gold – aside from releasing ridiculously catchy music, they were the perfect distillation of a youth culture being eyed by major labels and brands hoping to bleed the wallets of suburban teenagers dry.

Late ’90s skate culture? Served via Fred Durst’s iconic red baseball cap. Meanwhile, rapped vocals and DJ scratches (as well as the odd Method Man feature and Snoop Dogg cameo) kept surface-level hip hop heads quenched. Throwdown riffs and growls solidified their nu metal cred, and their American Pie-esque party charm saw the band cut deep into the hearts of red cup, frosted-tipped faithfuls everywhere. Their appeal was broad, and massive.



Off-putting to some, the band intersected with broader youth culture in different way to many of their nu metal counterparts. Linkin Park shot for singalong hooks, Slipknot opted for thrash inspiration and Korn were a little too vulnerable.

LB on the other hand were running for the most overt form of brattiness that shared an appeal with, say, Eminem (if not matching his lyricism), and no other band has managed to get away with an album named Chocolate Starfish And Hot Dog Flavoured Water – let alone one that owns the the record for highest first week sales for a rock band that decade, spawning five genre-defining hit singles on its way to multi-platinum status.



‘My Generation’ is as seminal as nu metal gets. With generically brilliant lyrics, the track is a huge showcase of guitarist Wes Borland’s proclivity for tremolo worship, which made its main riff just that little more sticky. The song culminates in a rallying cry of a community, featuring one the rowdiest breakdowns to ever see the life of day on mainstream radio.

It’s fair to say the music video for ‘Rollin (Air Raid Vehicle)’ was the last time a rock band completely owned their position as tastemakers with the ability to lead a generation, pulled off with total blind arrogance. Ben Stiller makes a cameo, before the band slam down on top of a New York rooftop as Durst yells, “Hey rockers, hip hoppers, and everybody all around the world” – the perfect nod to their all-consuming mass appeal.



It seriously requires a certain level of genius, both on the stage and behind the scenes, to get tracks that aggressive onto the radio. The opening riff to ‘Break Stuff’ is low-IQ rock in the best way possible, feeding into our very barbarian need to simply jump the fuck up, and striking the perfect equilibrium between dissonant and straight up catchy, typified by Wes Borland’s epic guitar skills.

Seriously, the dude has chops – his quirky techniques cutting through Durst’s two-dimensionality to pull the spotlight on iconic tracks like ‘Counterfeit’ and ‘My Way’. If the thought of Fred Durst pleading that “he did it all for the Nookie” comes across as nothing more than utterly distasteful to you, the least you could do is give credit where credit is due for Borland.

Now, years on from their heyday, a phenomenon has arisen that not many believed would ever come to fruition: A nu metal revival of sorts is in full swing, and the influence of Limp Bizkit is incredibly apparent in acts like Ocean Grove (who are opening up for the band on their headline run), who in a way echo the frenetic, pulsating, over-the-top onstage persona of Durst and Co.

The track ‘Intimate Alien’ off the Melbourne outfit’s debut LP (and triple j feature album) The Rhapsody Tapes is a bold statement, forging against the grain of stale metalcore tropes with its downtuned riffs and rapped vocals. American acts like Sylar and Emmure, meanwhile, have all lent from the persona and unique sonics. And with heavy bands shifting more and more from the clean-cut production of Warped Tour-style metal to sounds more punchy and dissonant, there’s no doubt that we’ll be hearing more of Limp’s influence shine through. Still don’t believe us? Check out Aussie’s like DREGG, Skorched and Apate – seriously.

Despite that resurgence, it’s clear we’ll probably never see a band like Limp Bizkit command the attention of the general public with such vigor again. They were – and still are – truly a force to be reckoned with, and while their biggest hits may come off as superficial, it’d be reductive to fail to acknowledge the simplest of truths: the music is just that fun.

And hey, even if Fred Durst was just doing it all for the nookie, he did it damn well.

Limp Bizkit head to Australia to play the inaugural Download Festival Melbourne in March, with sideshows in Sydney, Adelaide and Brisbane – check out the dates below.

Limp Bizkit 2018 Download Festival Australia Sideshows

Supported by Of Mice & Men and Ocean Grove

Thursday, 22nd March NEW SHOW

Adelaide Entertainment Centre, Adelaide

Tickets: Live Nation

Sunday, 25th March

Hordern Pavilion, Sydney

Tickets: Live Nation

Tuesday, 27th March

Riverstage, Brisbane

Tickets: Live Nation

Limp Bizkit also play Download Festival Melbourne on Tuesday, 24th March

Tickets: Live Nation