I myself was quite excited to see these things begin to manifest themselves. It was the future now, and stuff like that happens in the future, right? I've seen The Jetsons, I know how it goes.
As we know now, none of the things we anticipated occurred. The world remained as it was. However, not everything was completely the same - for with the dawn of the new century, came nu-metal.
Nu-metal, the chimera-like spawn of hip-hop and heavy metal. Nu-metal, that popularised elephant-legged jeans, multiple chains attaching keys and wallets to your person, and white boy-dreads. Nu-metal, the music that made me fall in love with music.
I'm not even ashamed to admit it. I pleaded with my cousin to burn me a copy of Hybrid Theory, banished from my wardrobe all colours that were not black, white and red (but not in a cool White Stripes kind of way), and began my transformation into a ball of teenage angst.
Kerrang! was my bible, and local cobbler's was my church. While I wasn't allowed to actually purchase the thing (my parents saw a copy lying on my desk, opened the front cover, read the word "f**kable" and promptly banned the rag from entering our home) I sneaked a few peeks in the local newsagents and begged old copies from my cooler friends. I hid my stash in a drawer in my room, surreptitiously clipping out pictures of Coby Dick and Marilyn Manson for my wall, and praying that the old folks didn't find out.
With the arrival of Sky Digital in our home came Kerrang! TV, and I spent my after-school hours waiting to hear my favourite song of the moment in between the Def Leppard and Guns'N'Roses replays. Waiting until the end of "November Rain" so as not to miss "In The End" was probably the toughest thing my 13-year-old self had to endure, but I did it - all for the love of nu-metal.
You may be wondering why I'm mentioning the shoe repair shop. Well, as many the ex-grunger will know, you were nobody in the young alternative scene if you didn't own at least one band hoodie. Harry's Shoe Repair was, strangely enough, the only place in my town that stocked them. Harry probably did the best business of his life during the nu-metal years, as us hapless youngins were willing to part with €40 for a badly screen-printed picture of Kurt Cobain's face on an ill-fitting black hoodie without any qualms whatsoever. Getting up to Asha in the Stephen's Green Shopping Centre for a bit of licensed merch was like having Christmas come early. Who remembers being fiercely jealous of the city kids with their bondage pants and dyed hair? I do. I really do.
I dropped nu-metal like a hot potato when emo came along (Gerard Way was much better looking than all of Slipknot, that much was for sure) but I know that without it, I probably wouldn't have discovered alternative music and the bands I love today. I'd like to think that it saved me from a life of believing Flo Rida and David Guetta were master musicians. Sometimes, when I'm alone, I put on "Crawling" and have a bit of a mosh – but only sometimes.
Looking back, it's really quite embarrassing, isn't it? Other generations had The Smiths, The Sex Pistols, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles. We had Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, and Slipknot.
Today Morrissey, Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney are revered as musical gods, despite the fact that their respective heydays ended decades ago. Corey Taylor, Chester Bennington and Fred Durst are...um...yeah. I don't know what they're doing. Off washing their baggy jeans and shining up their wallet-chains for nu-metal's resurrection, perhaps. I'll be ready to join you, guys. Just let me know.