Brent: Forgive me father for I have sinned.

Priest: How long has it been since your last confession?

Brent: About eight years.

Priest: Heh! Well, there's not too much hope for you. What brings you here today?

Brent: I've betrayed my colleagues and I'm a bit confused.

Priest: Robbing the cradle again?

Brent: No, no. It's... I'm almost embarrassed to say this...

Priest: It's okay, Brent. What you say here is only passed to me and God.

Brent: Well, I was reviewing the new Korn record...

Priest: And?

Brent: And... I actually found myself liking it.

God: Ha!

Priest: Can't say I know much about them.

Brent: They're like this funky metal band.

Priest: Do they take the Lord's name in vain?

Brent: Um, probably. I don't remember.

Priest: Well, go take a bath, say four Hail Marys, and buy a Jars of Clay record.

[later]

Shrink: ...And why do you think you're not worthy?

Brent: Well, I'm afraid of the Korn fans.

Shrink: The Rammstein hate- mail is still getting to you?

Brent: Yeah. Sometimes I can't sleep. I'm just afraid that they'll think I'm not... worthy. Even my boss doesn't think so.

Shrink: So, you're afraid to let people down? I doubt that. That's not the Brent I know. That we know. What would you say to these Korn fans if you could speak to them?

Brent: I'd tell them to buy the dang record. Not that they need me to tell them that. I'd tell them that this is Korn's best record. The first album invented their super- deep, tribal funk grind, and that was great for being something fresh in the metal scene. Their second album distilled their style to it's craziest, most base elements and pushed it to the extreme. The lyrics were more absurd, the screams more insane, the attack more schizophrenic. And on this album it all just meshes together. It's "da bomb" for Korn kids. They pull off the thick grind/ deep groove hybrid better than ever. My highlight is "Got The Life" which fuses the a disco dancefloor hi-hat beat with... well, the mosh pit.

Shrink: So this "Korn" does in fact appeal to you?

Brent: [Sigh] Yeah.

Shrink: And what's so wrong with that, Brent?

Brent: Well in my Elitist Critic Clique, it's frowned upon to find pleasure in hugely successful bands, especially those of the neo-metal ilk. What does this say about me? I heard the first new single on a sampler and liked it so much I bought the album.

Shrink: Why do they appeal to you, Brent?

Brent: Well, it does rock. I also like the way Korn straddles the line between sincerity and complete tongue- in- cheek. Their singer, Jonathan Davis, puts so much energy into his vocals. You can hear him almost completely throw out his voice. I like that. It's real. I also like the way he can switch from a rumbling growl to a quivering melody to beatboxing to falsetto. You can't say he's boring. But on the other hand, the band has this complete air of... comic book-ness around them. In press photos they straddle low- riding bicycles and sit on thrones surrounded by pitbulls. And the biggest aesthetic change they've made from the last record is jumping clothing sponsorship from Adidas to Puma. Part of me despises them for being so immature, but I get the feeling they revel in it.

Shrink: Yes, Brent, but what's the real reason you like them? Were you troubled as a child?

Brent: No.

Shrink: Let's go back to your high school days. What music did you listen to?

Brent: I was into Primus and Helmet and Fugazi...

God: Ha!

Shrink: I see, I see... I have a theory.

Brent: Well, what?

Shrink: This Korn appeals to some parts of your brain, while shutting off and offending other parts. On one level, your superego tells you that you can't like them. They use comic book artists for their covers. Yet, there is another level in your brain. Deep in the abyss of your memory. This Korn record hits similar nerves as the stuff you listened to in high school. There's a touch of nostalgia, albeit admittedly immature and somewhat embarrassing. If this was 1991, you'd have had no problem liking this record. But the college radio and reviewing has brought so much more to your ears. Now you've moved on. Yet some primal part of you still wants to hear a grown man shout "It's On!" over tight- as- the- cuff- of- a- sphygmomanometer guitar riffing and drum pummel.

Brent: Hmm... so I can't help it?

Shrink: It's like this: You eat a plate a of barbecued ribs. You love the ribs. You gobble the ribs. Then two hours later, you feel stuffed and disgusting and greasy and you scrub your hands. You can't get the smell of the barbecue sauce off. You pick your nose, and you smell barbecue sauce for an hour. You masturbate, your penis smells like barbecue sauce. You can't avoid it. It's best to just give in, suck your fingers, and savor the fading flavor of ribs until it's gone forever.

Brent: Doc, what the hell are you talking about?

Shrink: Brent, this is what I'm saying: there's a reason the two best- selling metal magazines are called Rip and Circus. There's also a reason they're stocked by the Bop.

-Brent DiCrescenzo