Limp Bizkit

There are a million reasons to despise Fred Durst. But believe it or not, his music isn't one of them. Though Durst's skills are more in the tradition of white rappers like Rodney Dangerfield or even Vincent Price than the Beasties or even Anthony Kiedis, he owns wimp rage's authentic mewl. Sure, Durst is a putz beset by petty indignities of life and he whines indignantly back. But deny ever feeling that way yourself and you're an even putzier putz. True, nobody ever mistook DJ Lethal for a Grandmaster, and the rhythm section takes the phrase "give up the funk" far too literally. But Wes Borland is a guitar hero for the age of sample-and-hold, trading in virtuoso expression for a rudimentary crunch.

The band's moment of glory is Significant Other, keynoted by the defensive breakup rant "Nookie" and the offensive break-stuff rant "Break Stuff." The latter, in particular, shows how the standard media line on Bizkit, which links the appeal of its aggression to overdriven Y chromosomes and beer-addled fraternity memberships, falters. Bizkit has never been a band for unapologetic muscleheads. "Break Stuff" is an anthem for closet wusses who ineffectually hurl their phone against the wall when their girlfriends hang up on them.

Chocolate Starfish found the band counterpunching, Durst singing "My Generation" to a fan base a decade younger than himself. Shortly afterward, Borland jumped ship to pursue dreams of art rock and the band released a stopgap remix project called New Old Songs -- a trifle, really. Time will tell whether they can reclaim the balance of powers integral to any big rock band -- the yin of introspective tech geek vs. the yang of spotlight-crazed mouthy geek.

On Results May Vary, Limp Bizkit's fourth studio album, Durst is the latest in a series of mega-successful pop stars to beat you over the head with their pain; he even covers the Who's tears-of-a-clown classic "Behind Blue Eyes." Admittedly, Durst lost his longtime guitarist and broke up with Britney Spears within the span of a year, but you gotta wonder if his hardships warrant rote attempts at pathos such as "[high school] was like a prison with bullies always putting me down/just a little skater boy they could pick on/I learned to forgive 'em, now I got the balls they can lick on." But Durst and his mates -- including new guitarist Mike Smith -- use mook melancholy as the inspiration for a dark, streamlined attack. With their usual guitar-heavy thrash still in place, songs such as "Creamer" and "Lonely World" get by on Linkin Park-style electronic textures, stutter-step rhythms, and catchy, cathartic choruses. Durst still raps like a linebacker, but he hasn't lost his knack for big, heavy hooks -- witness the hard-driving first single, "Eat You Alive." (KEITH HARRIS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide