Seeing some of your favourite artists recontextualized is always an odd sensation. Take, for example, the curious case of Corey Taylor. Known primarily for being the vocalist for masked anti-heroes Slipknot, he has recently stepped out solo (and sans mask), touring in support of his recently-released book Seven Deadly Sins. He stopped by the recently re-activated Corona Theater on a quiet Thursday night to spend a few hours with some diehard fans.
Trying to reconcile the videos I've seen of a dude wearing a mask, clad in a jumpsuit urging people to 'jumpdafuckup' to the man in front of me – with an easy demure, a broad smile and wearing a flannel shirt – recounting some of the more colourful stories of his career took a bit of work. Taylor is a multi-faceted artist and a capable public speaker, handling the crowd with an ease that was surely gained through more than a decade of tour stops and press junkets that the nu-metal darlings have had to endure.
The stage was starkly adorned, with a simple stool and a copy of Taylor's book. He spent roughly 90 minutes on-stage, reading passages from his book, taking some questions as well as playing some of his more well-known songs (as well as a few covers) on an acoustic guitar. He was at times poignant, playful, funny and seemed to be genuinely grateful for the positive feedback he'd received while out on tour alone. He recounted some of his favourite on-tour stories, re-iterated his dislike for record mega-producer Rick Rubin (who Taylor claimed only popped into sessions for Slipknot's last album for 45 minutes a week at most) as well as dove into some of his personal journey, a journey that has made him who he is.
I never thought I would live the day to see the anthemic Slipknot song 'Spit It Out' (released on their self-titled record in 1999) covered by its singer utilizing a swingy time-signature to make it sound like prime territory for a pub band, but... there it was. And honestly, it wasn't that bad.
Watching a few hundred black t-shirt clad heshers singing along to an acoustic rendition of a U2 song is also an odd sensation. For most, who claim to abhor mainstream acts in casual conversation, this should be a song unknown to them. And yet, here they were, some singing with a noticeable Québecois accent, unified in front of the man with the acoustic guitar.
For someone who went through those awkward pubescent years listening to Taylor's music, it felt kinda funny to see a man who made his money covered up in costumes seem so naked on-stage on Thursday. He comes off as confrontational and nihilistic lyrically, yet behind it all lay a man with a likeable air that wouldn't seem out of place working as a local bartender or the like. It was an interesting 90 minutes that helped shed some light on the man behind some of the songs that had shaped my own teenage years, a man who clearly destroys the notion of the bonehead metaller with skill, insight and a genuinely likeable on-stage personality.
-Brian H hosts Countdown To Armageddon every Monday from 8-10pm