A Return to Form
The last half-decade of Korn’s career has bred creativity but also a fair degree of ire from critics and fans alike. 2011’s experiment in dubstep, The Path of Totality, produced some bangers (“Get Up,” “Narcissistic Cannibal”), but the seams at which the two genres were sewed together were too glaring. The follow-up, 2013’s The Paradigm Shift, dropped the sick wubz but failed to move the band outside its comfort zone.
When you’ve essentially founded a genre, as Korn has done with nu metal, your fans will usually permit a period of inconsistency. Nonetheless, eventually you need to return to form. Right when its fans were on the verge of losing attention, Korn has come through with a far more worthwhile 11-track offering: The Serenity of Suffering.
Serenity’s opening track, “Insane,” is the right combination of pummeling and melodic. The tidal wave of bass and guitar is aggressive enough to fill the listener with adrenaline but not so loud as to be jarring. Singing synths in the background remind the listener that the band has a heart. There’s even a moment where Jonathan Davis calls out misogyny. It’s a bit confusing, but nu metal isn’t exactly a genre known for feminist inclinations, so the moment is appreciated.
The lyrical themes are unsurprising—insanity, hatred, and suffering—directed at society and self in almost equal parts. None of this is revolutionary, but that’s okay. Korn’s lyrics have always served more to complement the dark mood of the songs, not to unseat Hemingway. “Take Me” is a prominent exception, in which Davis personifies the alcohol bottle that still haunts him after almost two decades of sobriety. “You are the disease,” growls the bottle. The bottle alone represents the “remedy that numbs your pain.” Haunting.
Korn is not a band known for its sense of humor, but the album’s intermittent moments of comicality are among the highlights. The scat singing that caps off “Rotting in Vain” breaks the tension of the track’s hyper-serious opening while hearkening back to Korn’s signature track, “Freak on a Leash.” The guitar solo of “The Hating” has a slightly puzzling, cartoonish quality, more salvia divinorum than acid.
Perhaps it is more correct to describe the last five years as a learning experience than a waste. Once in a while, the band channels 2011, and mostly with success. The electronic moments succeed because they are more subtle and less forced—more IDM than dubstep. Given that the band is closing out its twenty-third year of existence, maturity is a good look for Korn.