Big Bizness

Nineteen ninety-nine was Limp Bizkit's year. White rap, pimp rock, rap-rock, rock metal, hip-hop and roll. Dub it what you like, if you've breezed through a college dorm, peeked into a teenager's bedroom or flipped on MTV's Total Request Live lately, you've likely heard the high energy sound of Limp Bizkit. You've struggled not to get the chorus of the band's biggest hit so far, Nookie, stuck in your head: "I did it all for the nookie/Come on/So you can take that cookie/And stick it up your . . . yeah!/Stick it up your . . . yeah!/Stick it up your . . . yeah!''

Growing up in Jacksonville, "the shitty part of Florida,'' lead singer Fred Durst was into skateboarding and the Treacherous Three. At one point, he served in the U.S. Navy. He worked as a tattoo artist and played in a mediocre band. He also married, had a daughter and divorced. With rock star ambition gnawing at him, Durst stole the best players from local bands and formed Limp Bizkit: Durst on vocals, Sam Rivers on bass, Wes Borland on lead guitar, John Otto on drums and DJ Lethal (formerly of House of Pain) on beats. Limp Bizkit's first single, Counterfeit, a song about phony people, got heavy rotation on the local Planet Radio 93.3. The band bum-rushed schools and passed out fliers. They rocked their hearts out at guerrilla performances with 30 people in the crowd. Their big break came when the already-established Korn stopped in Jacksonville for a gig. Durst, a master businessman, offered to tattoo Korn's band members and ended up slipping them a Limp Bizkit demo tape. Korn dug it, and soon Durst and company landed a deal with Interscope Records and released their first album, Three Dollar Bill, Y'all. In 1998, Limp Bizkit hit the jackpot with their thrash-and-burn cover of the George Michael song Faith, which aired on MTV just months before Michael was busted for masturbating in a public rest room. The timing couldn't have been better. Limp Bizkit participated in the Family Values Tour, 1998's highest-grossing package concert. In 1999, they toured nonstop to promote Significant Other, their second release and the summer's number one record (more than 3 million sold). Durst is planning the "biggest, phattest, safest'' free concert in history on July 4, 2000, or "Limpdependence Day,'' as he calls it. "It's going to be bigger than Woodstock. Water will cost $2. Sandwiches will cost $2. We'll have ten times the security. I'm going to make the Woodstock people go, 'So that's how you do it!'''

Durst is referring, of course, to the controversy sparked by his band's performance at Woodstock 1999, a concert that some felt was more about sex and anarchy than peace and love. As Limp Bizkit played Break Stuff, the audience ripped plywood boards from a pay-per-view camera tower, passed them over their heads as makeshift surfboards and threw everything that they could get their hands on. Scores of concertgoers were injured. A 24-year-old woman claims she was raped in the mosh pit. Durst has said that he feels awful about the violence at Woodstock, but he doesn't feel responsible for it.

Durst, 29, is now a vice president at Interscope and also directs music videos, including Limp Bizkit's Nookie and ReArranged and Korn's Falling Away From Me. Next on the agenda is a The Game-meets-The Breakfast Club feature film that he will direct.

We spoke with Durst on the last leg of the Billionaire Pirates Tour, which also featured Redman and Method Man. Durst, a mile-a-minute cherub in a black stocking cap, cushy black ski coat and five-times-too-baggy pants, chills backstage, debunking Limp Bizkit myths between bites of pumpkin pie. Long before his band is scheduled to hit the stage, Durst says, "Let's go freak out some fans.'' And so we enter the stadium, which is awash in house lights and already filled to capacity. At the sight of Durst, 20,000 people (including Fred clones in red baseball caps, black Hanes T-shirts and khaki Dickies) go berserk. Durst mingles, poses for snapshots and admires a Limp Bizkit tattoo on a fan's back. Ninety minutes later Durst fronts a Kiss-style rock show full of pyrotechnics, blasts of confetti and waving Bics.

Playboy: For those of us who will never be rock stars, describe what it feels like to be onstage during a show.

Durst: It's crazy. At some shows, there have been 60,000 people screaming my shit. You get this overwhelming feeling that everyone is right there with you. I've gotten the chills, I've cried.

Playboy: Who listens to Limp Bizkit?

Durst: Our fans are all over the place. I know doctors who like us, Christian kids who like us, runaway kids, black kids. It's better than I ever could have imagined. Everyone's feeling it. I like to ask the fans, "What's your favorite song on the record? What do you like about it?'' I was a music fan before I was a rock star, so I don't want to let them down.

Playboy: The success of Limp Bizkit scares some people. You've been called a "noisy all-guy band'' and "rap-metal clowns.'' You've been blamed for an increase in violence against women. Are you antigirl?

Durst: No way. I cater to women. Women rule my world. They rule the earth. A lot of girls like us. They love the release they get at the concert. We try to make sure the girls feel comfortable at our shows. The media try to portray us as this testosterone band full of meathead fucking metal guys. We're so not those guys.

Playboy: As you know, not all women felt comfortable at Woodstock. What's your take on what happened that day?

Durst: I had no idea that during Break Stuff 300,000 people were going to go insane. All the promoters were thinking about was money. They treated people like animals. I walked around talking to the fans and the conditions were disgusting. The Porta-Johns were covered in shit and piss. Water cost $6. The tension in the air was so thick. People were living in misery. After a long bill of Alanis Morissette, the Dave Matthews Band and Counting Crows, the headliners were Limp Bizkit, Rage Against the Machine and Metallica. People were ready to snap. At the beginning of Break Stuff, I said, "Get all of the negative energy out of your body. Replace it with positive energy. Use this as a release.'' Next thing you know, people are surfing on plywood. Coolest thing I've ever seen. I was like, "I'm going to go down there and surf on that fucking plywood. Hell yeah, it's Woodstock.'' But security wouldn't let me. I found out after the show that people had ripped the walls down. I'm not making excuses for myself, man. But Limp Bizkit shows have a fun energy. They say a girl got raped, and that's terrible. But is that my fault? I would never condone anything like that. When girls are crowd-surfing and flashing their tits and guys are trying to grab them, I'm the first one to say, "Dude, leave her alone.'' I can't control what goes on in the pit, what some redneck perverted ass does. But it's much easier to pin it on Limp Bizkit.

Playboy: Have the media given you a bad rap?

Durst: No. But a lot of the publicity has been false. A lot of it is the truth blown out of proportion.

Playboy: Example?

Durst: There was this one fucking Spin cover story that I hated. It was so false. The writer was mad at me. He's a huge Motley Crue fan and he goes, "You've got to take me to Tommy Lee's house. It will be great for the story. You've got to take me to the Playboy Mansion.'' I was so busy that we didn't go to either place. He hung out with me at my house while I was working. It was boring for him. The writer took everything out of context. He wanted me to look like this funny cracker wigger guy. The interview was "yo'' this and "yo'' that. Have you heard the word yo come out of my mouth today? We asked to sit down with him to review the tape, but he said he lost it. They put you on the cover to sell the magazine, then they fuck you. They did the same thing to Korn and the Backstreet Boys.

Playboy: Do you get offended by negative reviews of your music?

Durst: I take it to heart if someone says a song is wack. Everyone can say we played the most amazing show in the world, but if I missed a couple of notes, I'll be miserable all night. Because I know there's that one artsy musician in the crowd who's like, "Man, they fucked up right there.'' I have a big problem with perfectionism.

Playboy: But hasn't perfectionism gotten you this far?

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Durst: I wonder if this is even far. I'm not about to sit back and smell the roses. I have to think about the future. I feel like I'm being smart. But how do you really know? You don't have a lot of control over success or fame. Fans and critics do. I'm a big-time believer in karma. I'm super-duper superstitious.

Playboy: Where does that come from?

Durst: It's from almost getting killed in a car crash four or five years ago. The whole band was riding in a van. No matter what, we were going to sign this fucking record deal in Los Angeles. We were leaving Jacksonville. I was being a total asshole. I fired Wes from the band because he was trying to get on some crazy industrial tip. I said, "Fuck this, I'm going anyway.'' In the middle of Texas at six in the morning, our driver fell asleep and flipped our van eight times. The van was crushed and on fire, and there were eight bloody guys sprawled out all over the highway. My feet were broken. Another guy broke his back. The hospital we went to was a shack. The employees didn't even wear gloves. I started panicking and went into shock. I truly thought I was going to die.

Playboy: How did the accident change your life?

Durst: I believe I was given a second chance. It made me believe in God. I don't go to church but I do believe that someone is taking care of me, playing chess with my life. Someone is putting me in amazing situations, and if I do the right thing, I'll get closer to checkmate. I still cuss like a motherfucker, but I have changed in other ways. I try not to have empty flings and meaningless sex with people. I would never do anything to hurt anybody.

Playboy: Are you saying that rock star life isn't all about the nookie?

Durst: If I had sex with a girl in every city, my life would be so empty. A lot of people think being a rock star is like that. There are girls at our postconcert parties, but only because beautiful women make for a better atmosphere. When I go to a titty bar, it's not to give money to the girls. It's because I'm hanging with the fellas and enjoying the atmosphere. I'm the only single guy in my band. What am I gonna do? Say, "Hey you, you like me, let's go fuck''?

Playboy: But you could do that.

Durst: Twice today already. But what would that be? It would be on my conscience like a motherfucker. I'm not celibate. I've dated girls and I've slept with them. But I make sure I like a girl before we have sex. Sex has ruined things for me. I wrote No Sex about that. Went too fast way too soon/I feel disgusted and you should too/It's no good when all that's left is the sex. I've met. people who I think are amazing. If we wouldn't have rushed into straight fucking, it could have been killer. I'm not the guy who fucks the girls and says, "Later.'' I'm a passionate person. I've had a couple of experiences where right after we both had orgasms, it was over for me. But my vision is clear. I definitely want to be with someone for the rest of my life.

Playboy: Your ex-girlfriends include a Playboy Playmate and Carmen Electra. Does your next girlfriend have to be gorgeous?

Durst: When I meet a girl, I have to be intrigued. Beauty is optional. I've dated beautiful women, I've dated ugly women and I've liked them all. I like imperfections. Imperfections make someone perfect to me.

Playboy: Describe Fred Durst, boyfriend.

Durst: I'm the dumbest fucking sucker [pretends to be talking to his ex-girlfriend]: "I heard you fucked my friend. You didn't? You swear? I heard a million times that you did, but because we have this sexual relationship and I can't imagine you being with anyone else, I trust you.'' I'm that guy. When your friend fucks your girlfriend, it's just not cool.

Playboy: Hence Nookie's hostile lyrics?

Durst: Yeah. I make music about the things that hurt me the most, like people lying to me. The common man and woman can relate to that. In this position, I feel like I'm never going to meet the right girl. I'm so skeptical. I wrote my first record about how miserable I was in a certain relationship. When that relationship ended, I wrote Significant Other. It's about accepting the failure of a relationship. I'm trying to tell people on this record that everything's going to be fine. If they're miserable, I know where they're coming from.

Playboy: If you were involved in a successful relationship, would you develop writer's block?

Durst: No. I have at least three or four more records' worth of shit built up inside me. Not every song is about relationships. There's a lot of other shit in life. This business gives you a lot of reasons to feel upset. I'm not going to change the world. But I know I'm touching people. I want my fans to know that I'm the same as them, only I'm on the other side of the barricades.

Playboy: So what's it like behind the velvet rope?

Durst: It's cool as hell. Everyone respects you because you've accomplished something. I think God blessed me with instinct. He said, "You get to be creative. The rest is going to be in shambles.''

Playboy: What's with the ring? [There is a huge diamond-and-platinum rock on Durst's left pinkie.]

Durst: Don't ask me why I have it. It's so over-the-top. It's platinum with eight karats of diamonds. Elvis would have bought this ring. I'm obsessed with Elvis Presley. I've been to Graceland ten fucking times. Elvis had this TCB ring, for "taking care of business.'' So I thought, I have to buy this ring. You have to do a couple of dumb things when you're a rock star and when you have money. I bought a cool house, but it's not over-the-top. It's normal. The ring is crazy and nice and so big. It's an asset. It will keep its value. My daughter will eventually get it. I hope she won't pawn it.

Playboy: Unlike Elvis, you hardly ever drink or do drugs. What kind of rock star are you, anyway?

Durst: I've seen way too many episodes of Behind the Music on VH-1. That can't be me. I don't know if kids will be upset that I'm not backstage doing drugs and fucking girls and getting blow jobs and living this lost, drugged-out life where I'll look back and say, "It was great, but now it's gone.'' Take Jim Morrison. Drugs seemed to make him really creative, but he was dying as soon as he started taking them. Scott Weiland? Great guy. Amazing singer. He's creative as fuck, but because of drugs, he's in jail for a long fucking time. I want to leave a legacy. I want to have a killer band, to be vice president of a huge label, to be a successful director. I don't know anyone who does all that. I've got to do it, man.

The media try to portray us as this testosterone band full of meathead metal guys. We're so not those guys.