Diversion 2.0 Thirty Day Song Challenge -- Day 22: A Song You Used to Love But Now You Don't

In this life, I’ve done many things I’m not proud of. I’ve broken hearts, betrayed trusts, and made poor decisions that have adversely affected the ones I love.

I also used to like Limp Bizkit.

Limp Bizkit – “Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle)”

What can I say. It was the late 90’s, a time when all things “edgy” were crawling their way out of the woodwork of pop culture, from punk rock ducks to extreme-recycling dogs. And nothing was edgier than the newest, most daring innovation in music to date: rap metal. All of the angst of regular metal with the in-your-face delivery of rap. Alas, this was a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercial that would not last, but it would take nearly five years before rap metal would slink back to the dark, anguished hole from whence it came (only to emerge with longer hair and significantly more eyeliner).

There were several groups carrying the rap metal style, but none of them were as in your face and casually douche-y as Limp Bizkit. The group that assures us that they did it all for the nookie absolutely tore up the charts, charting several Top 10 singles on the Rock and Alternative charts between 1999 and 2001, and achieving 13x Platinum sales across two albums. In short, they were awesome, and by listening to their music, you, too, would become awesome.

One of Limp Bizkit’s most popular songs was their second single from the album Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water, a classy joint called “Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle).” To hear the song is to realize how ridiculous it is. First off, the lyrics mean absolutely nothing—aside from using some powerful- and assertive-sounding words, I’m pretty sure there is no meaning to this song. Hell, check out the chorus:

Move in, now move out (hands up, now hands down)
Back up, back up (show me what you’re gonna do now)
Breathe in, now breathe out (hands up, now hands down)
Back up, back up (show me what you’re gonna do now)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ (what?)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ (c’mon!)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ (yeah!)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

But what does it mean?! As an angsty, Grand Theft Auto III-playin’ eighth grader, I didn’t give a crap about how vapid the song was; it sounded tough and defiant, and I ate that s@$# up. In fact, I’m pretty sure I put this song on three different mixes during my time in middle school (also included on those mixes: P.O.D., Korn, TRUSTcompany, and some early Ludacris. Willikers).

The sad part? I still get the urge to listen to it sometimes. Not to revel in its musical brilliance, but to grimace, and to remember what it was like to be 14 again.