Rock N Roll Gangster
Korn’s Fieldy Snuts has finally put down his ill-strung bass. Unfortunately, he also picked up a microphone. He says he hasn’t rapped a goddamn day in his life, and oh-does-it-ever show. The repugnant Rock N Roll Gangster is an album so terrible I hesitate to review it on the off-chance that someone could read this and decide to purchase it for ironic purposes. From start to finish, Fieldy’s Dreams is an unconvincing G-funk fantasy with rapping so embarrassingly piss-poor that it makes Barney Rubble’s rap about Fruity Pebbles look like the second coming of The Wu-Tang Clan.
Opening track “Cocky” consists of nothing but 16 seconds of gun-cocking and pistol-fire (Oh! “Cocky”! I get it. I’m sorry, folks, the subtle double-entendre was lost on me. Phew).
This is followed by the abysmal “Baby Hugh Hef,” in which Fieldy stiltedly raps about whatever drugs-money-women bullshit he wishes he could persuasively spout about. The beat is based on some ill-timed gunshots that make the whole drum track sort of fall off its axis. Hip-hop progressivists and ingenious IDM producers are going rabid trying to wrap their hands around this type of rhythmic “glitch.” But since Fieldy also rhymes “black on black Escalade Cadillac” with “100 girlfriends that I’ve already shagged” in a nasal whine that would be patience-trying to B-Real, I refuse to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Later, in “You Saved Me (From Being Crazy),” he calls his buddy Munky, and in true mook-rock self-loathing tradition, boasts “I’m feeling down on myself” and smokes some sticky-icky-icky to ease the pain (“No reason for no stress/Marijuana you’re the best!”) In “Child Vigilante” he shits in your tub, wipes his ass with your toothbrush, and mutilates a Whodini song.
Even if you’re 14 and still think rapping about weed is amazingly clever, avoid this like the plague.
Fieldy’s Dreams: http://www.fieldysdreams.net