Roaring back after the grief and bloodletting of 2019's
The Nothing, metal veterans
Korn add yet another highlight to their late-era renaissance with their 14th set,
Requiem. The intense, focused assault is as simple and no-frills as can be, a slim nine tracks of introspection, growth, and, shockingly, a faint sense of optimism. Recorded during the COVID-19 lockdown, the band found themselves with no deadlines, no label pressure, and plenty of time to simply record as a full unit (even though founding bassist
Fieldy was on hiatus for personal reasons, his basslines are still here). With that space, they tapped into something that's a rarity on a
Korn album: setting sights on hope and healing. Let's be clear, though,
Jonathan Davis and company haven't delivered a happy pop album. Rather, they're trying to see the light and keep the darkness at bay, taking a self-aware approach to a batch of songs that crushes just as heavily as anything
Korn have done in the past. On the explosive opener, "Forgotten,"
Davis takes a hard look at his life, making difficult realizations as he demands, "Don't feel bad for me/Don't feel sad for me" while
Munky and
Head charge forth with a buzzing twin riff attack and
Ray Luzier crushes his kit. That urgency and vigor surges through the entire album, elevating classic stompers like the cathartic earworm "Start the Healing," the agonized metallic lurcher "Hopeless and Beaten," and "Penance to Sorrow," a towering hurricane of emotional turmoil and
Untouchables-esque melody that implodes as
Davis shreds his throat with repeated cries of "Go/I will never be free." At this stage in their story, the group could cruise on autopilot, yet they still make rewarding artistic leaps on
Requiem. Standout track "Let the Dark Do the Rest" clatters to life like any signature
Korn number, that is until the layered vocal harmonies pop up during the chorus. Then, at the bridge, the sky suddenly opens with expansive guitar feedback, and
Davis sings in a major key, "I just want to see what the future holds." It's a lovely surprise and as close to angelic as
Korn could get (even if
Davis closes the track with a guttural "You make me sick!"). Another highlight, "Worst Is On Its Way," ends the album, balancing whatever positivity
Davis has mustered with a fatalistic pessimism that tragedy inevitably comes just when life starts to feel nice. There's nothing really remarkable going on here, at least until
Davis drops in with a ferocious scatting break that comes out of nowhere. The hit of serotonin for longtime fans is an absolute joy. Against the odds,
Korn have done it again with
Requiem, a quick and ferocious blast that finds the band still hungry and innovative nearly 30 years into the game. ~ Neil Z. Yeung