The sun had barely set on a humid Massachusetts evening when the unmistakable sound of chaos announced itself at the Xfinity Center. Limp Bizkit were back — louder, rowdier, and somehow more self-aware than ever — to celebrate the release of their latest album. For a band that has always thrived on controversy, comedy, and cathartic energy, this night felt like a full-circle victory lap. What unfolded over nearly two hours was a bizarrely beautiful mix of nostalgia, absurdity, and pure nu-metal spectacle — the kind of show that reminded everyone why Fred Durst and company still know how to command a crowd better than almost anyone in their generation.
A Nostalgic Fire Ignites
They didn’t ease into it. Limp Bizkit opened with “Break Stuff,” the kind of nuclear detonation that immediately transformed the Xfinity Center into a sea of raised fists, sweat, and flailing limbs. The mosh pits erupted like geysers of energy, and Durst—sporting his now-signature old-man chic—stood at the center of it all, smirking like a man who knew exactly what kind of pandemonium he was unleashing. The song’s menacing simplicity still works as an anthem for frustration, and the crowd screamed along with every “I think you better quit talkin’ that shit” as if it were 1999 all over again.
From there, the band launched into “Hot Dog,” and it was clear this wasn’t going to be a nostalgia-only affair. Wes Borland’s guitar tone was monstrous, his experimental flair cutting through the mix with the same weird brilliance that’s made him one of the genre’s most fascinating players. Sam Rivers’ bass lines rumbled like thunder while John Otto’s drums were locked in with surgical precision. These guys have aged, sure—but they’ve aged into their sound, tightening it without sanding down the chaos that makes it fun.
As the crowd settled into the rhythm, Fred Durst threw a curveball: the interlude “Snacky Poo.” It was absurd, self-deprecating, and weirdly perfect. Limp Bizkit has always thrived on the tension between sincerity and irony, and here they leaned fully into their goofball personas, letting fans know that this was a party, not a sermon.
Party Mode Engaged
That party vibe carried into “My Generation,” a track that sounded as defiant as ever, and then into the swaggering “Livin’ It Up.” The latter has aged well—it’s not just a song, it’s a mission statement. Durst grinned as he prowled the stage, throwing the mic stand, ad-libbing between verses, and occasionally just letting the audience take over entire sections. Limp Bizkit has always blurred the line between chaos and control, and this performance showcased that delicate balance perfectly.
Mid-set, they mashed up “Jump Around,” “Party Up (Up in Here),” and Pantera’s “Walk,” in a genre-hopping medley that made no sense and total sense all at once. It was hilarious, hard-hitting, and deeply satisfying. This is where Limp Bizkit thrives—in that unpredictable zone between comedy and catharsis. The audience screamed every word, laughing through the chaos.
The first major surprise came with “N 2 Gether Now,” featuring special guest Eddy Baker. The song false-started once—Durst shrugged it off with a smirk—but when they locked in, it was electric. Hearing that Method Man collaboration live again was pure nostalgia gold, but with an updated, almost grimy edge thanks to Baker’s contribution.
Then came “Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle),” and it felt like the entire venue started vibrating. Every hand went up, every voice joined in—it’s one of those songs that simply doesn’t die. Limp Bizkit may have become memes in the early 2000s, but songs like this prove that behind the jokes was always a band that knew how to write a hook that hits like a hammer.
Chaos with a Smile
Midway through the set, things got delightfully strange. A tongue-in-cheek cover of “Proud Mary” morphed into “Hip Hop Hooray,” and somehow, the whole crowd sang along without missing a beat. Durst has long embraced his status as rock’s eternal wildcard, and this section of the show made it clear he’s having more fun than ever.
Then, with almost no warning, they dipped into “My Way,” one of the band’s biggest anthems. Hearing thousands of voices shout “This time I’mma let it all come out” in unison was one of those moments that transcended irony—it was pure, unironic connection. Durst’s delivery was impassioned, even tender at times, reminding everyone that underneath the red caps and middle fingers, Limp Bizkit always had a weird emotional honesty.
The set took a reflective detour with snippets of “My Melody” and “Your Love,” followed by “Out of Style” from their new album. The song hit hard live—thick grooves, jagged guitars, and a renewed sense of purpose. Limp Bizkit may have once been dismissed as a cultural joke, but songs like this remind you that they’ve outlasted almost every critic who said they wouldn’t.
The momentum built again with “Boiler,” a song that’s aged like fine wine. Its brooding slow-burn tension gave Borland room to stretch out on guitar, his eerie melodies filling the air like smoke. By the time they hit “Nookie,” the crowd was in full frenzy mode. Durst stopped it mid-second chorus—just to toy with the audience—and the tension made it even more explosive when they transitioned into “Full Nelson.”
For that one, Durst brought three fans on stage, turning the pit energy inward. It was unhinged, loud, and hilarious—pure Limp Bizkit theater.
Covers, Chaos, and Catharsis
Then came one of the night’s most unexpected highlights: a cover of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper.” Yes, that “Careless Whisper.” Limp Bizkit played it straight at first—Durst crooning with surprising sincerity before cracking into laughter. It worked, somehow. The mix of parody and reverence made it one of the night’s standout moments.
The crowd barely had time to process it before the band launched into another George Michael classic—“Faith.” This one, of course, was all feral energy and grit, the version that helped break them big in the first place. The mosh pits reignited instantly, and for a few minutes, it felt like 1998 again.
Just when it seemed like things couldn’t get any stranger, Limp Bizkit ripped into Nirvana’s “Come As You Are,” with none other than Corey Feldman joining in. The crowd’s reaction was a mix of shock, amusement, and genuine appreciation. Feldman leaned fully into it, channeling Cobain’s ghost with theatrical flair. It was weird, funny, and oddly moving—the kind of moment only Limp Bizkit could pull off.
The main set ended with “Take a Look Around,” their Mission: Impossible 2 anthem that still hits as hard as it did 20 years ago. The crowd went ballistic. The song’s mix of cinematic tension and bludgeoning riffs made for a perfect closer—at least until the inevitable encore.
A Second “Break Stuff” and Total Bedlam
When the lights dimmed again and the band returned, you could feel the collective anticipation. They kicked off the encore with “Break Stuff” again, this time joined by every member of the tour’s supporting acts. The stage turned into a massive, joyful brawl of musicians, friends, and fans all screaming the chorus together. It was unhinged, over the top, and absolutely perfect.
Before that finale, though, they’d dropped a one-two punch of “Falling Away From Me” and “Oildale (Leave Me Alone)”—deep cuts that hit with the same bruising emotional weight as their classics. The first built slowly, Fred pacing the stage like a boxer between rounds before the song exploded into catharsis. The second brought out a darker, more menacing tone, Borland’s guitar roaring like an animal.
By the end of the night, the entire Xfinity Center was on its feet, drenched in sweat, grinning from ear to ear. Fred Durst, clearly thrilled, thanked the crowd, saying, “Massachusetts, you’re still the rowdiest motherfuckers on the planet.” No one disagreed.
Reflections on a Band That Refuses to Die
Limp Bizkit in 2024 are a fascinating paradox. They’re both a punchline and a powerhouse, a band that has outlived its own meme status and circled back around to being genuinely great live. Their musicianship is airtight, their stage presence unmatched, and their willingness to embrace absurdity makes them feel more authentic than half the acts that mocked them in their prime.
This show wasn’t just about celebrating a new album—it was about celebrating survival. About acknowledging that what was once dismissed as “angry frat-rock” has, through sheer persistence, become comfort food for an entire generation. Songs like “My Way,” “Boiler,” and “Break Stuff” aren’t just relics—they’re rituals.
Wes Borland remains the band’s secret weapon, blending avant-garde weirdness with brutal groove. His costumes, his tonal experimentation, his sheer creativity—all of it keeps Limp Bizkit’s music from ever feeling stagnant. And John Otto and Sam Rivers continue to hold it down with the kind of rhythmic telepathy that can only come from decades of playing together.
Durst, for his part, has become something like a rock ‘n’ roll jester. He’s fully aware of his reputation and uses it to his advantage—mocking it, embracing it, transcending it. There’s real showmanship in that balance between parody and sincerity.
Final Thoughts
By the time the final cymbal crash rang out, one thing was clear: Limp Bizkit are far from a nostalgia act. They’re a living, breathing, absurd, and completely entertaining force of nature. Their Mansfield show wasn’t just a trip down memory lane—it was a declaration that this band, against all odds, still has something vital to say.
The fans knew it too. Whether they came for irony, nostalgia, or pure adrenaline, they got something far better: connection. That strange, joyful, sweaty, ridiculous connection that only a Limp Bizkit show can deliver.
Grade: B
Setlist:
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Break Stuff
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Hot Dog
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Snacky Poo (interlude)
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My Generation
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Livin’ It Up
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Jump Around / Party Up (Up in Here) / Walk
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N 2 Gether Now (with Eddy Baker; false start)
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Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle)
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Proud Mary / Hip Hop Hooray
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My Way
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My Melody / Your Love
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Out of Style
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Boiler
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Nookie (until second chorus)
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Full Nelson (with 3 fans)
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Careless Whisper (George Michael cover)
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Faith (George Michael cover)
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Come As You Are (Nirvana cover, with Corey Feldman)
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Take a Look Around
Encore: -
Falling Away From Me
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Oildale (Leave Me Alone)
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Break Stuff (with all tour members)