WWE's favourite band have seen some serious ups and downs since they first set the nu metal scene on fire in the late '90s.
Sporting the baggiest of baggy trousers, red caps and, in a certain psychedelic guitarist's case, the strangest of costumes, Limp Bizkit were the hottest act in metal for a brief spell. Despite drawing the ire of the mainstream media, Trent Reznor, everyone at Woodstock '99 and Placebo among others, the rap rock renegades spawned a loyal following.
Loud, crude, cranky and often comedic, Limp Bizkit's outrageous hybrid of headbanging mayhem and oddball hip hop just sort of worked.
Despite an amazing run through the late '90s and the start of the new millennium, the crew cooled off considerably by 2003. Between the departure of Wes Borland and the untimely demise of the nu metal craze, Limp Bizkit simply fizzled out. Criticism of the group's sound and attitude grew in the years after.
Their reunion albums in the last decade, while of a decent quality, did not receive the level of press their peak years did. Thanks to the drop in popularity and exposure, Limp Bizkit's talents have become surprisingly underrated. Many great songs in their discography are now lacking the acclaim they deserve in 2022. Here are 10 of the best.
While not quite as famous as some of their late releases, debut LP 'Three Dollar Bill, Y'All' was a seminal moment in rap rock history. Inspired primarily by nu-metal provocateurs like Hed PE and Korn, Limp Bizkit looked to really punch their listeners in the face with an audacious, aggressive sound.
Needless to say, they succeeded admirably.
Look no further than Clunk, a ferocious four minute rage festival with one of the most headbanging breakdowns the group ever recorded. It's further set apart by the curious call to break it up with brief, pace-slowing intervals before dropping right back into the ear-wrecking noise. The constant chop and change of composition is inventive and suspenseful in a way the group's later, more commercially friendly work rarely is.
Lyrically, the song, while dripping with attitude, makes pretty much zero sense. Durst hyperactively harps on about everything from clowns and egotistical punks to distorted audio and potential hearing loss.
Musically, it's about as good a showcase for DJ Lethal's eccentric talents as one can find. The tableturning madness is further accentuated by Wes Borland's wild guitar work in a track that gives many of their nu metal contemporaries more than a run for their money on the heaviness front.