OnSlot by PIMP: Nu Metal’s Forgotten Canadian Gem (Or Was It a Dud?)
Alright, buckle up, because we’re diving into OnSlot, the 2000 debut album from Canada’s own PIMP. Genre? Rock. Style? Nu Metal. Label? Uh… Not On Label. Yeah, you read that right. These guys were DIY before DIY was cool—or maybe they just couldn’t convince anyone to sign them. Either way, this album is like that one tattoo you got in college: loud, chaotic, and kinda unforgettable.
Now, let’s talk tracks. With ten songs on the roster, there’s plenty of nu-metal goodness (or badness, depending on your mood). But two tracks stood out to me like a sore thumb at a hand-modeling convention: “Slip” and “Rejection.”
“Slip” kicks things off with all the subtlety of a drunk uncle at Thanksgiving dinner. The riffs are heavy, the vocals are angsty as hell, and if you’re not headbanging within the first 30 seconds, check your pulse—you might be dead. It’s got this groove that digs its claws into you and doesn’t let go. Honestly, it feels like someone bottled up every frustration you’ve ever had about life and turned it into four minutes of pure catharsis. I mean, sure, the lyrics aren’t exactly Shakespeare, but who cares when the music hits this hard?
Then there’s “Rejection,” which is basically the emo kid of the group. This track slows things down just enough to make you feel feelings you didn’t ask for. The chorus hits like a punch to the gut, and the guitar work has this eerie vibe that sticks with you long after the song ends. If you’ve ever been ghosted, ignored, or just plain dismissed, this one will hit a little too close to home. Bonus points for making me question all my life choices while listening.
The rest of the album keeps the energy up with tracks like “Corruption” and “Want More,” though some moments feel like they blur together. “Fashion Statement” tries to bring some sass to the table, but honestly, it’s more of a shrug than a statement. And don’t even get me started on “Family Affliction”—it’s fine, but unless your family drama involves chainsaws and existential dread, it might not resonate.
What makes OnSlot worth remembering isn’t perfection—it’s personality. Sure, the production quality sounds like it was recorded in someone’s basement (spoiler: it probably was), but that rawness adds charm. You can tell these dudes weren’t phoning it in; they were pouring their souls into every note, even if those notes occasionally missed the mark.
So, where does OnSlot land in the grand scheme of things? Is it a masterpiece? Nah. Is it trash? Not quite. It’s the musical equivalent of a B-movie—fun, flawed, and oddly endearing. Listening to it feels like rediscovering an old mixtape from high school. You cringe a little, sure, but damn if it doesn’t take you back.
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth and demand proof of humanity's ability to rock, I’d hesitate before handing over OnSlot. But hey, at least it’s got character—and isn’t that what rock ‘n’ roll’s all about?
