Your editor has but a shred of dignity, which is still enough not to write a tagline about the Repo franchise…
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[5.11]
Kat Stevens: You guys at the time of writing it is almost 14 years TO THE DAY since Daphne & Celeste played at Reading Festival! And I sodding well missed them because a) all the Slipknot fans were ploughing through the gates clutching bottles of piss and the stewards closed the main entrance for 15 minutes b) unfortunately I couldn’t remember how many feet I had. Luckily for Slipknot I don’t bear grudges, and this song is closer in tone to early-doors Korn than it is to “Wait and Bleed” — which just sounds uncannily like the Klaxons to me now.
[7]
Brad Shoup: And they think they’re the negative ones!
[3]
Micha Cavaseno: Slipknot are a great study of survivalism in metal. Some of these guys have been around since the mid-’90s in this band or another, and they’ve survived two eras of Headbangers Ball, Ozzfest, unflattering Nardwuar interviews, you name it. Most recently, they suffered a dual blow in the overdose and death of bassist Paul Gray and the quit of “lyricist” (depending on how long ago middle school was) and drummer wunderkind Joey Jordison. Interestingly, this has resulted in the band that spent the last decade working to distance themselves from nu-metal antiquity and Rick Rubinizing themselves into a “real band” returning to the world of treachery. Nu-metal is not metal, for where metal is a linear forward pulse, nu-metal is a lair where sounds fall in and out, grooves shift like tectonic plates and if you’re not using the kitchen sink then you’re chicken because your opening band was literally playing toilet seat drums and it was FUCKING AMAZING. The guitars are a slick serpentine mess of cheap riffs that outdo all of their peers, Sid Wilson emerges out of the shadows to provide the best turntablism not on the YG album or whatever Q*Bert’s doing this year, Shawn Crahan provides blast-beats and sudden death-grind switch-ups after being regulated to an oil drum since ’99, and Corey does his best frantic “OH LORD IT’S CATCHING UP TO ME” rap-rock delivery with ease. There’s a strange glory in their cynicism here, because no matter how well they do, the odds are kind of always stacked against Slipknot. Whether they succeed at converting a soul, they’ve demonstrated that they can thrive under any pressure.
[6]
Thomas Inskeep: Now this is some proper fucking metal. I’ve always had a hard time getting past Slipknot’s schtick — their masks — but listening to this on its own merits, I’m totally down. It’s brutal but still musical, which is the key. And which makes me want to hear it again.
[6]
Alfred Soto: The key is the peal halfway that rises and submerges itself again beneath the power chords: an electronic echo that the band doesn’t pursue, alas. But they remain who they are, and within its formal limits this is a bit of alright.
[5]
Patrick St. Michel: Slipknot scared me immensely when I was younger, but I just didn’t know how to deal with my teenage feelings at the time. At their best, the pioneers of nu-metal tapped into a type of anger that burns especially bright in adolescents but can carry on and be therapeutic in a way. “The Negative One,” though, just seems sorta petty — there are multiple Web pages wondering whether this is aimed at their former drummer — and phoned in, “anger” shorthand for “just scream and thrash, and sprinkle in some DJ bits.” I never should have been afraid of these guys — and in 2014, I can just feel bored.
[3]
Anthony Easton: The anger I had when I was 15 gave me energy. The hate I have when I’m 30 gives me torpor. I miss the anger.
[7]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Dear TSJ Reader, I understand your hesitance. I get it, I really do — you don’t care for masks, nu-metal or the “People = Shit” credo. But Slipknot matter as one of modern metal’s better single acts. They reinvented themselves with each album, tweaking their haunted house death-rap into an mix of screwy post-grunge, Fisher Price doom-metal and corkscrew radio-rock riffs. They’ve always been imaginative, if privy to overambition. This makes their singles discography a fat-free and accessible window into their unusual evolution, from 2001’s clean-sung Grammy-nominated “Wait and Bleed” and 2002’s oozing, creepy “Left Behind” to 2005’s clanging anthem “Duality” and 2008’s triumphant “Psychosocial”. Breaking the cycle, “The Negative One” is a sign of devolution, a return to the sound of Slipknot’s 2001. It’s a raging, staccato thrust with a tinge of bittersweet nostalgia: long-term members Paul Gray and Joey Jordison are gone, the former from a fatal overdose and the other from mysteriously underexplained circumstances. For all its roaring, it’s a memory to a simpler time for the group. This doesn’t make it a great Slipknot song, though, and it’s not a great Slipknot single either. Vocalist Corey Taylor understands this, already having written off the track as a loose for the fans. From here, it looks like an attempt to maintain a broken streak.
[5]
Dan MacRae: I’m a bit of a Slipknot apologist. I was thrilled as a doofusy teen to come across Iowa, which had this percussion element that made me feel like I was being pummelled by one of those Aura Impactor vests you could get for the Sega Genesis. These maskos shouldn’t have to worry about falling into the realm of self-parody (CUZ THEY ARE SILLY BILLIES!) but this track smacks of a band that’s using step-by-step Slipknot song wizard software. Bleh. Slipknot will never be as good as The Slipnutz.
[4]