Grade: C- | In 1989, MTV’s “Unplugged” series set out to show new sides to artists that had otherwise been played into a corner. Sometimes, it showed remarkable depth and breadth to a seemingly pigeonholed artist (i.e., Nirvana, Alice in Chains). But other times, the stripped nature of the acoustic setting highlighted a performer’s shortcomings (i.e., LL Cool J).

For rap metal pioneers Korn, it does both.

Removing the heavily distorted licks and thick studio fuzz shows the band’s ability to write engaging arrangements. By allowing the melodies to come to the foreground, songs that had previously sounded like angry-for-the-sake-of-angry, over-the-top thuds now are finally the hauntingly morose tracks the band always wanted.

However, the intimate nature of the recording puts vocalist Jonathan Davis’ lyrics in the spotlight. Before, his middle-aged take on whiny, teenage angst was drowned out. But now his predictably sappy and the slit-your-wrist melodrama is unavoidable. In fact, covers of Radiohead’s “Creep” and The Cure’s “In Between Days” are changed from somber introspections to equally depressing self-loathing when put into context next to the rest of Davis’ catalogue. Going “unplugged” is a risk for any act, and in Korn’s case, one which the blaring stumbles overshadow the discovered forward leaps.