Every generation gets the heavy metal heroes it deserves.

The hedonistic '70s produced Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith. The superficial '80s gave us Moetley Cruee and Poison. And now, the violent, dysfunctional days of this new millennium have given us the frightening Slipknot, the new Antichrist superstars of disaffected teens everywhere.

We should not be surprised by their popularity. Everything about this nine-member troupe from Des Moines is tailor-made to appeal to surly adolescents. Start with the look, which is, after all, just as important to kids as the music: The members perform in identical industrial coveralls. They wear freaky-creepy horror-movie masks. They go by single-digit numbers instead of names. Think about it: Anonymity, withdrawal from conventional society, the creation of a fearful new persona, a sense of belonging to a rebellious and powerful group -- what more could your average teen want except a side of fries?

In Slipknot's case, that would be the music -- a monstrously heavy and explosively destructive cacophony of pain and mayhem more akin to the blackest European death metal than the comparatively benign rap-rock of Limp Bizkit. Searing sheets of guitars, pummeling waves of maniacally frenzied rhythm, nuclear-powered bass guitars and tortured vocals that veer from a guttural growl to a white-hot primal scream are the main ingredients in this recipe. And it's all served up with a bottomless lyrical cup of bitter psychotic rage. The message is simple: Slipknot hate everything about society. And everybody in it. Us, themselves, you -- especially you.

Amazingly enough, they're even more pissed off on their second major-label album Iowa than they were on their eponymous 1999 debut. That album was like a middle finger stuck in the face of the world; this one is more like a fist heading towards your skull. On shiny, happy tunes with titles like People = S--, My Plague, I am Hated and New Abortion, Slipknot make their intentions graphically clear: They don't just want you to clear off. They want to stab you, bathe themselves in your blood and have sex with your corpse. We are not hyperbolizing. "I wanna slit your throat and f-- the wound / I wanna push my face in and feel the swoon," bellows vocalist No. 8 on the devastating Disasterpiece, one of the 14 violence-drenched assaults in this hour-long session of brutality. And you thought Marilyn Manson was evil?

Slipknot may not be evil but they're damned clever. The warning sticker on this CD (at least on the review copy we got) is stuck to the outer plastic wrapper, so kids who buy it can remove it before they get home. As much as we hate those stickers and the censorship they represent, that sneaky tactic concerns us. Slipknot's Iowa is an album every responsible parent should hear, both by themselves and with their kids. Not to try to dissuade teens from listening to Slipknot -- frankly, these songs are so relentlessly over the top and indistinguishably one-dimensional that even kids should get bored of them pretty quick. But adults might want to point out to the young 'uns that Slipknot is selling rebellion the same way McDonald's sells those fries. And that while their horrifically violent reactions to life and its evils make for excellent cathartic fantasies -- and we all have them -- they aren't to be confused with reality.

Otherwise, we suspect it's only a matter of time until another confused, neglected kid listens to a disc like this, picks up a weapon and screws up a whole bunch of lives. And if we as a society just let that happen, it will be just what we deserve.

Track Listing 1. (515)
  2. People = Shit
  3. Disasterpiece
  4. My Plague
  5. Everything Ends
  6. The Heretic Anthem
  7. Gently
  8. Left Behind
  9. The Shape
  10. I Am Hated
  11. Skin Ticket
  12. New Abortion
  13. Metabolic
  14. Iowa