Limp Bizkit on Fieldy's book!

I have read Fieldy's book (the bassist of Korn) "Got the Life: My Journey of Addiction, Faith, Recovery, and Korn", and I found an interesting part of Fieldy tolding the history with Limp Bizkit! I decided to post here this part! You can read below!

By the Way the book is too cool and interesting! Buy it and enjoy!

Well Done Fieldy!!!

"As an attempt to balance my excessive rock star life, I

threw myself into music practically as hard as I was partying.

I found an interest in discovering new artists and cultivating

their talent. I first met Fred Durst in November 1995 outside

of the Milk Bar, a small club we played in Jacksonville, Florida.

He was waiting for me after the show. When I walked out

of the club, he grabbed Head and me and said he wanted to

talk to us. Fred said he was a tattoo artist and he’d do our tattoos

for free. I was down with that. Today, my entire body is

pretty covered in ink, but back then I still had lots of places I

wanted done—and free was always a good price so it seemed

like an excellent idea. Fred told us his studio was right down

the street. I thought, All right. Let’s roll.

On our way over, Fred started pushing a little more than

tattoos, saying he had a demo tape of his band, Limp Bizkit,

for me to listen to. I wasn’t all that interested in hearing about

his band so I kept talking about what kind of tattoo I should

get. We finally got to his friend’s house where there was a

makeshift tattoo studio. Fred got all set up and wanted to

know who was going first. Head said he’d go. Man, am I glad

he said that. I watched as Fred attempted to tattoo “Korn”

across Head’s lower back. It was a simple design, something

that should have taken a pro less than fifteen minutes. Four

hours later . . . well, needless to say, I didn’t really want to

go next. It was getting late and I was pretty tired. We’d all

been throwing back lots of Coors Light so I decided to go to

the bathroom and fill my empty beer can with water so no

one would know I wasn’t drinking. (This didn’t happen very

often, but on this particular night I was just tired from our

show and waiting around for so long.)

When I looked at the finished tattoo, I didn’t want to be the

guy who told Head that his tattoo looked more like “Horn”

than “Korn.”

Fred turned to me and said, “You ready?”

“Uh. . . You know what? It’s getting kind of late. I’m going

to fly but I’ll come back and do it another day.”

Free or not, there was no way I was letting Fred do a tattoo.

Even so, Fred kept pushing his demo tape. He pleaded with us

to listen to it, saying, “It’s so phat.” He was obviously pumped.

I have to admit, he intrigued me by the way he described the

rap-metal sound of Limp Bizkit. I thought it sounded really

cool, like something I could actually get into, so I gave him

a break and asked to hear what he had. I really liked what I

heard. Their songs “Counterfeit,” “Stuck,” and “Pollution”

were all on the tape. I told Fred that we were heading back to

L.A. to record but he should definitely keep in touch.

I mentioned Fred and Limp Bizkit to Ross Robinson, our

producer. I insisted he had to check them out. I was relentless

in my attempts to convince Ross it would be worth his while.

After hearing their tape, Ross was down with wanting to produce

them. I told Ross I could get Fred to come by while we

were recording. I didn’t know it at the time, but Ross called

Jeff Kwatinetz, my manager, and told him about Limp Bizkit

and said he should come by to hear the tape too. When he

heard it, Jeff didn’t like it at all. He didn’t get their sound

and wasn’t into their whole vibe. I thought he was completely

wrong. I begged him to give these guys a shot, this one time,

to take my word these guys were going to be big. After a lot of

groveling, I finally convinced Jeff to at least meet them.

Fred and I had been talking back and forth a lot. I told

him I thought I could get my managers to take the band on

as a client, and they would be produced by Ross Robinson.

I gave him my word that I would oversee the whole thing.

With everyone onboard, it was time to bring Fred to California

to meet everyone. I knew Limp Bizkit’s music was good,

but I also liked their whole look and vibe. I figured Jeff might

“get it” if he met Fred face-to-face. All of the groundwork

had been laid. I expected Fred to be psyched, but he wasn’t.

He told me that Wes Borland, his guitar player, had recently

left the band and Fred was unsure about what to do. I didn’t

care about this dude who had left the band. I told Fred I could

find ten guitarists to take his place. We had to take a shot. He

agreed but said he really wanted me to produce Limp Bizkit.

I was cool with that, though I knew Ross would need to stay

involved. I told Fred to come up to the studio so we could

start getting some songs together.

Fred rented a van and made the drive from Jacksonville,

Florida, to California. Somewhere in Texas, the driver fell

asleep and rolled the van, causing it to flip over and over. By

the time the guys made it to the studio, they were all bashed

up. Thankfully, no one was killed, but Fred was on crutches

while the other guys were all bandaged up, wearing arm slings

and casts from broken arms. I could hardly believe my eyes

when I saw them—they looked like they’d been through a war.

When I checked out the van, there was blood everywhere. I’m

not even sure how they made it the rest of the trip but there

they were. We were back at the Indigo Ranch laying down a

few new tracks when Fred and the rest of the guys showed up.

It was a tough sell convincing Jeff these broken-boned dudes

could make great music, but somehow we did it.

Fred made arrangements to record at DJ Lethal’s home

studio. I knew DJ Lethal from his days of being in House

of Pain, though he would later join Limp Bizkit. One night

I began messing around on the stand-up bass he had in the

corner of the studio, adding some bass lines to the song the

guys were working on. It sounded hot. We ended up partying

until it got really late. I realized that the ranch was a solid

forty-five minutes away from where we were in the Hollywood

Hills. My friend Jeffy had driven me to the studio and

I needed him to take me back to Indigo. Even though we were

wasted, I told Jeff we had to go. As he made his way down the

windy roads of Laurel Canyon, Jeffy began to hot-rod a little.

Laurel Canyon is a really winding road that cuts through a

mountain leading from West Hollywood to the San Fernando

Valley. The road can be pretty treacherous, especially at

night. Sure enough, Jeffy hit a sharp turn and skidded out of

control. We spun around and slammed into a tree on my side

of the car. I was knocked out cold on impact. The air bags

deployed, which probably saved our lives, but the car continued

to slide down the canyon until it came to stop over a fire

hydrant. When I came to, water was shooting straight up in

the air and pouring into the car from underneath, filling it up.

I tried to get the door open, but it was stuck. I pushed as hard

as I could until it finally gave way. Water came gushing out

of the car as I staggered alongside the canyon road, trying to

get my bearings and to snap out of shock from the impact. We

were both still wasted and weren’t quite sure what we should

do. I didn’t want to go to jail so I said, “Let’s just walk.”

We left the scene and started walking down the curvy

canyon road in the black of night, hopeful that no one saw us

crash. A car slowly approached us from behind. The people in

it pulled over to see if we were okay. When they did, they recognized

me and asked if they could give us a ride. They took

us all the way back to Malibu. Thankfully, when Jeffy finally

dealt with the police, they couldn’t prove we were drunk, so

neither of us faced charges.

I ended up paying the price for that error in judgment

anyway. The next day, I could barely move my neck. It was

painful to sneeze or cough. I wasn’t sure if I had suffered

any internal injuries, but my whole body felt like it had been

jerked around on the inside. It took a solid year or two to get

my body back to where I didn’t feel any pain or discomfort

from that night, which sucked because I am pretty aggressive

when I play the bass, so performing during that time was pure

agony.

Something told me that producing Limp Bizkit’s album

wasn’t in the cards for me. Between those guys crashing their

van and my crash with Jeffy, I decided it wasn’t the right time.

Nothing seemed to be working. Even so, Ross Robinson said

he’d do it. And they were able to convince Wes to come back

to the band so I knew they’d be okay.

Funny enough, I did end up getting a tattoo from Fred.

While he was waiting for Limp Bizkit to really come together,

Fred got a job working in a tattoo shop in Hollywood. With a

little practice, he actually ended up doing pretty good work. I

decided to have him tattoo “Korn” on my ankle. At the time,

I really liked the font Kid Frost was using for his stuff so I had

Fred use that same lettering for my tattoo.

As I predicted, Limp Bizkit ended up becoming a huge success,

selling millions of albums worldwide. They toured with

us when we promoted Life Is Peachy, but we lost touch after

their first album came out. They were out touring nonstop

and we were really busy as well."