Limp Bizkit Guitarist Wes Borland is Funny, Sad
There’s been this long-standing assertion on some people’s parts that Wes Borland is the “cool” member of Limp Bizkit — the one who is self-aware, knows how bad the band sucks, and is really just stuck in this kinda crappy situation, kinda like someone who has been promoted to the highest possible level of a job they never really wanted. Idealist that I am, my reply to that has always been, “Well, quit, and don’t come back this time” — because if making money for doing something you dislike is that painful for you, then you are, by definition, selling out (and that’s what selling out really is — not just changing your sound or your look or whatever, but doing something solely for monetary purposes). And my lack of sympathy for Borland’s situation has always been exacerbated by the fact that I’ve never really liked any of Borland’s non-Bizkit projects very much, either… in other words, it’s not like he’s some great artist being held back by working with Fred Durst. He’s another hack who just enjoy the nookie for which he did it all.
Borland’s recent Instagram post bitching about having to headline the ShipRocked cruise next week — the week of his fortieth birthday — bolsters both the argument of Borland’s defenders and my own point. It is, by turns, very funny and very sad. So part of me is super-impressed that a member of Limp Bizkit has suddenly become witty, and part of me is turned-off by the fact that he’s basically shitting all over people who are paying to see him perform (as much as I dislike those people and hate their taste in music), and shitting all over the other “over-the-hill” artists on the cruise.
Is Borland dope or dumb for publicly expressing these views? Read the post below, then weigh in with your thoughts in the comments section.
Getting all packed up this week for Broatchella 2015. It’s the same as Brochella but it’s off land. Can’t wait to see me some roided out tribal tattooed spray tanned Jell-O shot filled bohunks do their best drunk MMA impressions in the top deck mosh pit. Whenever we aren’t on stage, I’ll be curled up fetal position in my cabin, palms up, while I desperately cling to the last week of my thirties as it slips through my hooked fingers. So, I’d like to give a shout out now to all the other over-the-hill late nineties/early 2000s bands going on the cruise: Let’s give these people the raging alcohol fueled nostalgia fest they’re paying for guys! I know we can do it if we tune down low enough!
[via The PRP]