TORONTO -- As Limp Bizkit prepared to surge into a final, livid chorus of their hit "Nookie" Thursday night at Skydome, singer Fred Durst pledged he was coming back with a new album in the new year and the band "will never f---ing change!"

Judging by the response from the 13,000 who turned out to see the group's "Billionaire Pirates" tour, they view a static Limp Bizkit as a very good thing. Any assessment of Limp Bizkit's rocket-ride to the top has to begin with Durst, an unlikely idol to millions. During their 100 minute display of rap-metal fusion, he had full command of the crowd, but perversely proved himself to be an unremarkable frontman, rendering the group's angry anthems in a voice that ranged from a whiney, pleading tone to an unhinged bark.

And yet, it works beautifully. During "Counterfeit," the singer abandoned the stage, forced his way through the general-admission floor area and took to the raised soundboard station like a Marine claiming Iwo Jima. To see Durst hold the giant concert bowl in thrall was impressive and a little frightening (just ask the security forces left scrambling to fend off the crush of admirers vying to lay hands on the singer).

So what's his secret? Surely it's not the music alone, although the Bizkit backline does a serviceable job of cranking out hip-hop-flavoured rock anthems, with special mention going to DJ Lethal's tasty turntable work and guitarist Wes Borland's imaginative use of dissonance.

Maybe it's Durst's lyrics, which give voice to the kind of nasty sentiment most young men are encouraged to keep to themselves. "I think you better quit lettin' s--t slip or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip," he advised in "Break Stuff," the evening's opening number.

It couldn't be the stage show, which borrows its retina-searing logo sign, synchronized fireballs and climactic showers of confetti from dad-rockers like Kiss and the Rolling Stones (although the giant Mechano and junior chemistry set props were a nice touch).

No, the real clue to Durst's charm came while looking not at him but at the crowd.

The audience was spotted with heads adorned in Durst's trademark backwards red cap like Flanders Field is spotted with poppies. His sartorial taste, like everything else about Fred Durst, isn't larger than life; it's smaller and easy to relate to.

It's like he's one of them, a kid who somehow managed to slip in the stage door, elude security and get on the mic to vent his spleen. As if to drive home the point, he hauled a fan out of the crowd during "Stuck" and turned over MC duties to the newbie, who delivered the song in a way that betrayed hours of practice rapping in front of a bedroom mirror.

Durst's apple hasn't fallen very far from the tree of his influences, and he even proved it by allowing a playful mini-set of covers: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" "Master Of Puppets" and House Of Pain's "Jump Around" - a troika that nicely triangulates the elements of the group's sound.

Durst is the every-slacker and the every-fan. Or as Durst himself sang in "9 Teen 90 Nine:" "Let's make something out of it/This way we can all relate/ Worldwide we collide/This is how we communicate." The widely-rumored guest appearence by Bizkit's pals Korn (in town to promote their new album, "Issues") never materialized, but Method Man and Redman did jump in on "N2 Gether Now" and added some much-needed levity.

Even after their warm-up set was over, MCs Method Man and Redman couldn't bear to let the fun end. The dynamic duo liberated one of the promoter's golf carts once the houselights came up and zoomed around the infield, to the delight of anyone who hadn't already made it to the concession stands.

The usual culprits that vex any big-hall hip-hop show menaced Meth and Redman: The inventive bounce of the jams was smothered in a blanket of bass and there were too many MCs onstage trying to hog the spotlight away from the stars.

And yet, Method Man and Redman seemed determined to steal the show away from the headliners by diving into the audience, running up to the grandstand and rhyming furiously from atop the crash barrier at the front of the stage. At one point, Meth introduced the crew as "Terrence and Phillip" - the flatulant Canadian cartoon characters from "South Park" - and led the crowd in a version of T&P's "Uncle F--ker."

But when it came to game-time, the duo was on point, raging through "Da Rockwilder" and "Tear It Off" (built around a sample from Parliament's ageless party anthem "Give Up The Funk") with stoned elan.

Opening act System Of A Down were certainly the most original act to take the stage. The Armenian-American foursome's convoluted, multi-part epics mix the uncompromising political stance and hip-hop militancy of Rage Against The Machine with a musical virtuosity that most closely resembled prog-rock.

Singer Serj Tankian's mini-rants against the Pentagon and CIA mind control seemed to leave a few audience members scratching their heads, but that was nothing compared to the reaction to songs like "D-Devil" and "Sugar," both oddball meldings of speed-metal, middle-eastern melodic flourishes and crunchy funk. It's an exotic, promising mix.

et List

Break Stuff

9 Teen 90 Nine

Show Me What You Got

Just Like This

Stuck

Don't Go Off Wandering

Counterfeit

Every Day Is Better Than The Next Day

No Sex

N2 Gether Now (with Method Man)

Jump Around (with Method Man and Redman)

Faith

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Master Of Puppets

Re-Arranged

Nookie

JAM! Rating: 3 out of 5