FFWDing to the Best Part: “Nookie,” Limp Bizkit (1999)

If binge drinking and/or date rape had a soundtrack, it would be 97% Limp Bizkit. Every thing about this band — starting with their name — should have me bristling with hatred. Fred Durst’s backwards Yankees cap, soul patch, and kiss-and-telling behavior. Their lyrics, which are juvenile at best and misogynistic at worst. The way they re-interpreted and destroyed George Michael’s ‘Faith.’ Wes Borland’s stupid, stupid contacts. The use of the phrase ‘Chocolate Starfish’ as part of the title of album #3.

They are manufactured and affected, affecting an image that is terrible … unless you’re a 14-year-old NASCAR fan in the heartland, cooking up meth that’s only 45% pure. Too harsh? Maybe, maybe not.

But you know? I’ve been known to listen to ‘Nookie.’ So much, in fact, that I pretty much have all its lyrics committed to memory.

The bass line is bouncy, the rhythm is catchy, and the chorus — while admittedly as lowest-common-denominator as they come — is infectious in its own way. (The video, however, perfectly illustrates all of the negative points I listed above PLUS a lovely puffy-coat-and-shorts combo.)

And while I feel naming the “Best Part” of this song is sort of like naming my favorite Two and a Half Men episode, I’ve got one. Right around 0:59, when you think they are going to “like a chump…” segue into the first chorus, there is another smattering of rock-rap, the syncopation of which I appreciate.

Should I be feelin’ bad? No
Should I be feelin good? No
Its kinda sad I’m the laughin’ stock of the neighborhood
You would think that I’d be movin’ on
But I’m a sucker like I said
F*cked up in the head, not!!

Actually, forget what I said, all of it. The non-ironic employment of “not” — in 1999, no less — ruined this whole thing.

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One thought on “FFWDing to the Best Part: “Nookie,” Limp Bizkit (1999)

  1. According to a music industry type with whom I spoke last month, this style of music fell off the radio when advertisers realized that only 11-12 year old boys kept listening when one of these songs came on the radio. The lyrics are another variation on, “My woman done me wrong.” Like many rap songs, the music is an extended jam on a single chord. Nu Metal was known for its arms race of successively lower guitar pitches, and the lead guitar on this album is almost an entire octave below standard guitar tuning. I thought I recalled reading somewhere that Fred Durst had become a record label executive, but I can’t find anything about that now. A bad dream?

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