From Kerrang! Magazine

KORN
The Urge, Incubus

Glasgow Barrowlands
Friday, January 24th

          All of which means that Incubus can't lose, and Korn's youthful labelmates attack their set to screams from the front rows. It's a brash amalgam of Bad Brains meets RATM, with the added element of deft scratch mixing from DJ Gavin Koppel. And yes, frontman Brandon Boyd is a heartbreaker, with a chest like a washboard and a cheesy grin. Stars by the end of the year definitely.

          The Urge are also a welcome surprise. Their brash Fishbone-y ska-funk could have died on it's arse tonight, but instead it turns Barrowlands into a sea of leaping bodies, egged on by chirpy frontman Karl, who soon has everybody screaming their choruses and making devil hand signals. The energy onstage is frenetic and infectious, the hall brightened by the crisp blasts of brass of the charming Matt, Bill and Todd. Infinitely better live than on a record, expect to see them kick-starting festivals throughout Europe this summer.

          Korn come out fighting, their fierce power and anger unrelenting. Watching them is like being knocked off your feet, the low-end rumble pounding your chest, the howling vocals seeping through your skull. Attempting to quantify what it is that makes Korn so special would take all week. Simply put, the quintet are a phenomenally focussed live unit, drilled to perfection and led by Fieldy's deliciously looping bass and the militaristic drumming of David Silveria, surely rock's finest drummer of the moment. Draped around the rhythm section are the jagged, edgy guitars of Head barking backing vocals, and super-cool Munky. Four different characters, Four different points of focus -- and that's before you even get to Jonathan Davis.

          Currently, there is no other band who so perfectly capture the mood of their audience than Korn, and no other rock star more tuned in to the minds of his followers than Jonathan Davis. It's not hard to see this scrawny, dreadlocked, self-confessed fuck-up as some kind of Pied Piper, as what seems like a hundred thousand adoring adolescents chant "All my life, who am I?" In unison with him.

          From the second song "Blind", Korn are flying all the way. 15 songs, including a segue of 'Low Rider' into a crushing 'Shoots and Ladders' and of course, barrowlands erupts when Davis pulls out his bagpipes. But there are just no low points. The set sweeps form a pummeling 'Good God' and 'Clown', and pounds relentlessly on via 'Ball Tongue' and 'Fake' to a climatic 'Faget', Fieldy's bass upright, Head's hair flying, Munky lost in it, Jonathan trembling, groin thumping the mike stand. They miss out 'Proud' - though it's on the setlist - as David has injured his wrist and there's no encore. There's no need: by now Korn have said it all. With Metallica past their peak and Sepultura off the scene, Korn are surely now poised to be the biggest extreme rock band in the world. There is no place to hide.

MOST ROCKING MOMENT:
'Good God', 'Blind', 'Faget' -- you name it, it was in there

LEAST ROCKING MOMENT:
Hardly likely, was it?

BEST ONSTAGE QUOTE:
No idle chatter but you can't go much better than the war cry of "YOU CAN SUCK MY DICK AND FUCKING LIKE IT!"

VERDICT:
If you missed this tour, it was probably the biggest mistake of your year

Setlist:
TWIST
BLIND
CHI
NEED TO
GOOD GOD
CLOWN
BALL TONGUE
ADIDAS
LOW RIDER
SHOOTS AND LADDERS
NO PLACE TO HIDE
DIVINE
FAKE
KILL YOU
FAGET