CARE FOR A KORN, DOG?

This innocence and harmlessness was not to be found on Thursday night. With the tinted windows of my Mercury Sable and a crude tape of Nine Inch Nails's Further Down the Spiral, the next destination was the Centrum in the beautiful metropolis of Ye Olde Worcester. With the luxury an intimate small venue gone, I was forced to tolerate stadium seating and a snack bar at the rock concert. But the event, lovingly called the "Sick and Twisted" tour, was more a spectacle than a concert. At an outrageously early 6:30pm, Mindless Self Indulgence mounted the stage to rile up the pit. They did not have to do much. Sporting some of the largest, strongest, angriest, most steroid-filled men and women in New England, the pit was the most violent this side of the Running of the Bulls. Filling the entire rink floor, the predominantly shirtless Centrum patrons ripped into one another, forcing EMTs to rush to the aid of injured pit fighters within the first half hour. Springfield locals Staind shook some more red in front of the bulls, who were then calmed down by the following showing of "Spike and Mike's Animation Festival."

During this intermission, I had a chance to put down my defenses and survey the crowd. Most of the arena was filled with twentysomething males, some accompanied by barely-dressed girlfriends. Despite the presence of the fairer sex, these guy were here for some misogynistic, testosterone fun, and they were not going to let chivalry get in the way. I ask a guy next to me how he felt about seeing Korn. "Dude, they are the fucking best every time I see them." How many times have you seen them? "Every time they have been in New England." "Every time? Like last night in Providence and tomorrow again here? "Hells fucking yeah! Where else can I kick some ass and not get arrested for it? Oh, and then there is the stripshow!" Stripshow?

I had absorbed enough random nudity at Woodstock '99, but I was not prepared for what happened next. In between the animation and Korn, the cameras were turned on the crowd, focusing on the more attractive girls in the crowd. The moment the camera would focus, the girl (regardless of age, from 14 to 40) immediately flashed the entire crowd, to the catcalls and cheers of all. Two girls, riding on the shoulders of a few men in the pit, began making out and groping each other for the delight of all the shirtless males in the place. For 20 minutes, a constant stream of (hardly) consenting women revealed their bodies to a crowd of meatheads. Entertainment has reached a new level of something, though I do not know what.

But the show must go on, and at nine the light went down and first six notes of "Falling Away From Me" were lost in an explosion of sound. Huge hairy men and small mascara-abusing girls screamed with estatic anticipation. Without wasting a moment of dialogue with the crowd, Korn blitzed through the set. Lasers, lights, an inflated rag doll, three video screen, and gigantic speakers pulsed through the crowd, throwing everyone into a bass beat thrashing. Bodies flew through the air in the pit, while Korn-dogs in the stands forced their way past guards onto the floor. Pandemonium ensued to the tune of "Got the Life," "A.D.I.D.A.S.," "Faget" and "Freak on a Leash." After two encores, Korn finally closed with a supercharged version of "Blind," eliciting more thrashing and tearing when one though the crowd must be out of energy. Four hours after in started, the war in the pit of the Worcester Centrum was over. The survivors smelt victory, the losers smelt the emergency room of the local hospitals. Count me in with the first group.

So, the moral of the story? Despite the fact that Teen Beat and J-14 have embraced Korn's image, the readers cannot keep up with the live lifestyle. Unfortunately, No Doubt has fallen prey to the monster of mainstream appeal and teenybopper crowds. On the way out of the Centrum after Korn, I saw a small boy, barely eight, staring down at the emptying pit. "Did you like the show?" I asked the catatonic child. His father replied "It was his first concert." Oh, that hurts. Should have picked No Doubt, my boy. Things may never be the same after Korn.