December 10, 2008, posted by Crumbs
When Slipknot brought the All Hope Is Gone tour to London, they didn’t bloody well do just one night, but three. We sent Hugh Platt down to the final show of their residency to see if they’ve still got it after ten years at the top.
On any other night, Machine Head would’ve, could’ve, should’ve usurped the headliners, and claimed tonight as their own. Their early millennial lull, and subsequent resurrection – to heights beyond even they could’ve hoped – has seen them teach whole new era of metal fans to chant “Machine Fuck-ing Head! Machine Fuck-ing Head!” When the San Franciscans stride off stage, the Gods themselves would be nervous to follow them.
But it’s a gang of Devils, not Gods that are taking the stage next. On the third and final night of Slipknot’s residence at the Hammersmith Apollo, no-one’s about to upstage The Nine.
“Slipknot? Just another nu-metal band,” metal elitists chime. “They’re for kids. They’re just rubbish. Mall-core.”
Take your right hand and slap yourself hard in the face. Go on, do it again. That’s exactly what I’d be doing to you if I caught you thinking thoughts like that. You think the masks, the image, the “gimmicks”, cheapens Slipknot’s music? The breakneck scorch of ‘Liberate’, or the batshit-crazy creepiness of ‘Prosthetics’, mere fractions of tonight’s set, are evidence to the contrary.
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