charity auction, he proclaimed that his contribution, a pair of red Dickies, "smelled like butt.") The fivesome works on the same premise as a fast-food commercial: The more they pile on the grease and cheese, the more you're compelled to come in closer. Eventually, you take a bite and try digesting the burger, the Bizkit, whatever.
That wearing-down process has been a slow one for many of us. Their 1997 debut, Three Dollar Bill, Y'All$, was largely overlooked when it was released. But heavy touring with their mentors Korn cemented Limp Bizkit's place in the scene -- along with their turntable-and-guitar-wielding peers the Deftones -- that has redefined late-Nineties hard rock.
The question is, can a band that has defined itself by its repellent qualities survive a really good album? Significant Other is more creative than Korn's Follow the Leader, less obnoxious than Eminem's Slim Shady LP and vastly more interesting than Bizkit's one-dimensional Three Dollar Bill. "You wanted the worst, you got the worst: the one, the only, Limp Bizkit," announces a distorted voice in the intro to this sixteen-track album. But the Bizkit renege on that promise: The charged kickoff track, "Just Like This," balances Wes Borland's assaultive guitar and Durst's rap-screams with melodic interludes, user-friendly grooves and actual harmonious vocals (don't hurl just yet). Durst jumps from nasal rapping to deep-throated boasting to woozy, Perry Farrell-like singing -- by dropping the screaming-for-effect tactic and relying more on the shifting dynamics, he has made his delivery infinitely more exciting.
The music follows suit, trading the two-step grind of Three Dollar Bill for more-daring tempos, skittering effects and compelling, unrushed rhythms. One of the best tracks here is the most patient: "N2gether." Starring Method Man and produced by DJ Premier of Gang Starr, it features a harp looped against a sample of someone blurting, "Shut the fuck up!" Durst sounds all squirrely busting on the big, bad media as Method Man smoothly sums up Wu-Tang and Bizkit in one line: "It ain't easy being greezy in a world full of cleanliness." Stone Temple Pilots' Scott Weiland and Korn's Jonathan Davis also team up with the Bizkit for the darkest metal tune on the album, "Nobody Like You." Weiland's pained, pretty vocals cascade over Davis' shaky, creepy-guy voice while the music does that dreary, aggro Nine Inch Nails thing. It's a decent song, but the Bizkit is better bouncing than moping: "Noo
