Introduction: A Journey Through Music and Chance Encounters

Picture this: a kid from nowhere, fueled by a love for raw, heavy music, stumbles into moments that tie his life to one of the biggest NuMetal bands ever—Slipknot. This isn’t a story about chasing fame or obsessing over a band. It’s about following my heart, letting my passion for music guide me, and how that led to crossing paths with Slipknot multiple times in the early 2000s. From their explosive rise in Des Moines to my run-ins with Corey Taylor, Joey Jordison, and others, this is a tale of music’s pull, personal connections, and the messy emotions that come with it—admiration, inspiration, frustration, and eventually peace. Here’s how it all went down, woven with Slipknot’s own wild journey.

Slipknot’s Origins in Des Moines

[Chance Trahan & Corey Taylor – Portland, Oregon – 2000 – Roseland Theater – 3AM]

This NuMetal band started with big dreams in the small town of Des Moines, Iowa, and just as they hoped, Slipknot became a phenomenon. They went through several lineup changes over the years. The first singer, Anders Colsefni, recorded their initial album, Mate, Feed, Kill, Repeat, but it was just a demo, and Anders didn’t make the final cut. The band needed a new frontman, so some members approached Corey Taylor. Joey Jordison asked Corey to join as lead singer, and he said yes. They recorded new demos that launched what would become a wild ride for the next couple of decades. Slipknot shocked Des Moines by hitting the stage in Halloween masks, blasting outrageously heavy metal. Their sound hooked fans worldwide, often compared to bands like GWAR and Mushroomhead. Some say Mushroomhead inspired the masks, and that might be true, but Slipknot took it further, raking in way more cash and fame. Odds are, you know Slipknot but might’ve never heard of Mushroomhead.

Breaking Out with the 1999 Demo

In 1999, Slipknot hit the scene hard with a three-song demo—Spit It Out, Surfacing, and Wait and Bleed. Fans grabbed these free demos from record stores and spread the word.

I heard their songs on a mixtape while gaming with friends, and I kept asking who that band was. Their sound was raw, different, and grabbed me every time a track played. - Chance Trahan

First Encounter in Colorado Springs

Slipknot kicked off a U.S. tour, and I saw my shot to catch them live in Colorado Springs, so I went for it. At the venue, I walked past the unmasked band members in the packed lobby of the Music Hall and didn’t even realize it—too many people buzzing with excitement. Slipknot was nine masked dudes back then, so there was no way to know for sure without interrupting their chats, and I didn’t want to spoil the vibe of seeing them masked on stage first. The Color Insane opened for them.

The show was insane, and my most anticipated track was Purity. After the set, I spotted Jim Root signing autographs, introduced myself, and told him I wanted to tour with them. He asked for my band’s name, but I was in a no-name two-piece at the time—just me on guitar and vocals, and my buddy Miles on drums. I explained, and Jim said to hit them up when the band was solid, but that dream never came together. After talking with Jim, I headed outside to tell my friends I’d met the guitarist. In the parking lot, some weird dude, desperate to meet the band, asked me to introduce him. The convo went south fast—he creeped me out, so I bailed on the idea. Back at the other side of the lot, this guy hopped in his car, cranked some Slipknot, and, pissed about not meeting the band, peeled out and clipped me with his sideview mirror while I was vibing to the music.

I got lucky—my roommate TJ yanked me out of the way, so only my elbow got hit. It killed the mood, and my friends pulled me away from the dude. He apologized, acting like it was a freak accident, but we all knew it was intentional, and nobody was cool with it. The tour bus wasn’t well-guarded, so almost anyone could’ve walked up to meet the band, but this guy didn’t see it that way and pulled that stunt. Slipknot kept touring, hitting their second U.S. run with Mudvayne and One Minute Silence. After connecting with a guy and a girl in an AOL Slipknot chat, I decided to leave Colorado Springs for another shot at meeting the band in Portland, Oregon, in 2000.

Meeting the Band in Portland

In Portland, I got there early and scored autographs from Joey Jordison and Jim Root on a huge fold-out of a Des Moines newspaper cover featuring Slipknot. They got a kick out of it, like it was a blast from the past. Mudvayne’s lead singer, Chad Gray, also popped up before the show. I’d never heard of Mudvayne and had no clue who he was, but he looked punk rock and important. I tried to sweet-talk my way backstage, but security wasn’t budging. After the show, I waited until 3AM when the crowd cleared, then snuck backstage. Jim Root was there, flirting with a girl, so I had to haze him. But, I immediately linked up with Joey again when I saw him sitting on the couch by himself. After a quick reintroduction, I asked to meet Corey Taylor. Joey asked me to chill with him for a sec before he went and grabbed Corey from the tour bus to meet us.

I was cool with it, and I used the time Joey gave me to ask him about the album’s inlet artwork. Specifically the picture of what I said looked like Corey donnig his mask and laying on a cadaver table being tied to Wait & Bleed, mentioning the lyrics "I wipe it off on the tile, the light is brighter this time." I wanted to know if this phrasing was being symbolized in the artwork, as it looked closely related. Astonished, Joey said, "No, but interesting analogy." After about ten minutes, Joey brought Corey out, and that was the moment I’d been waiting for. Everyone backstage was starstruck and speechless, but when I saw my opening, I immediately had something to say. I'd been waiting for this moment for a very long time, as I had often felt that Corey's voice had spoken to me directly when I would hear him singing on some of the songs from the album.

“How’s Jump Da F*** Up with Max from Soulfly turning out?” I asked. Corey grinned and said, “The song’s done, and it sounds awesome.” I didn’t waste a second and asked him to make a song with me. He said, “Let’s do this.” That song hasn’t happened yet, but I’m still planning to make it real—things are in the works. We parted ways, and I caught Slipknot at least two more times in Las Vegas. The last time was at the House of Blues in Mandalay Bay. I snuck in by the tour buses again and met their DJ, Sid, and even tagged along to a nearby tattoo shop where he got a crescent moon inked on his arm. Aaron Zilch from American Head Charge spotted me sneaking in and took me to the shop.

I was hyped just to hang, but I accidentally annoyed Sid while he was getting his tattoo. Once it was done, I showed Sid some of my lyrics. He dug my writing and even complimented my handwriting’s artistry. Hoping to get Corey’s attention again, I gave Sid a sheet of my lyrics with my number to pass along, but Corey never called while that number was active. Still, it wasn’t a waste. Turns out, Corey seemed inspired by me, keeping tabs on what I was up to. I noticed when he dropped lyrics shockingly close to mine. Song ideas come to me easy, and at first, I took it as a compliment, but when I could prove the similarities, it stung. They were too obvious to ignore.

Tensions and a Truce with Corey Taylor

At one point, I was so pissed I threatened to sue Corey for stealing my work. But I stayed broke, never making steady money from a job, and couldn’t afford a lawyer. For years, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Recently, I let it go and privately offered Corey a truce. Our friendship and working on that song he promised meant more to me than holding onto resentment. Corey didn’t reply, but his recent Instagram posts showed a weight lifted off him, like the dark cloud between us was gone. Things had gotten heavy over the years, so this shift felt good for both of us. Now, I’m running for President of the United States, and Corey just dropped a new Slipknot album, We Are Not Your Kind.

Paul Gray’s Death and Its Impact

When Slipknot’s bassist, Paul Gray, died, it hit fans like a gut punch, and I was one of them who drifted away from the band. His death didn’t make sense to me—it shook me deep, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Slipknot I loved was gone. I was spinning in my head, like a See ‘n Say stuck on repeat, desperate for answers that weren’t there. It drove me nuts for a while. After reading interviews with Paul’s wife, I messaged her. She accepted my request, but when I asked a bunch of questions, things got weird, and the convo fizzled out. I eventually let it go, realizing some things are just too heavy to unravel. Spoiler: Paul’s death wasn’t anyone’s fault.

Joey Jordison’s Departure and Sinsaenum

More recently, founding drummer Joey Jordison got kicked out of Slipknot, with conflicting stories flying around. Joey said he didn’t quit, but the band claimed he did. At the Metal Hammer Golden Gods awards in London, Joey accepted the Golden God award and said:

“I want you all to give [Slipknot] praise. We accomplished a lot, and I wish them nothing but luck and the best of praise. Toward the end of my career in Slipknot, I got really sick with a horrible disease called transverse myelitis. I lost my legs. I couldn’t play anymore. It was a form of multiple sclerosis, which I don’t wish on my worst enemy.” -Joey Jordison

The frustration was real, but Joey bounced back, starting a supergroup called Sinsaenum with heavy metal players from different bands and countries. Their bio says:

Frédéric Leclercq, virtuoso bassist of London-based Power Metallers DRAGONFORCE, and JOEY JORDISON, formerly of SLIPKNOT and currently of VIMIC, revealed details of their new project, SINSAENUM. Fred had been working on death metal material since 1998, planning an extreme metal project. He got STÉPHANE BURIEZ, a French scene icon with LOUDBLAST for 30 years, on board. Things took shape when Joey Jordison texted Fred to ask what he was up to. Fred shared the death metal demos, and Joey, hearing there was no drummer yet, jumped in with his ferocious style. Joey came up with the name SINSAENUM, blending “sin” and “insane.” They needed vocalists with clear death metal enunciation and got two: ATTILA CSIHAR from Norwegian black metal legends MAYHEM and SUNNO))), known for his wild range from screams to throat singing, and Sean Zatorsky from DÅÅTH and CHIMAIRA. With Heimoth from SETH on bass, they finished the material across different locations. The result, “Echoes of the Tortured,” was mixed at Fascination Street Studios in Örebro, Sweden, by Jens Bogren (Opeth, Kreator, Devin Townsend), with 21 expansive tracks.

Corey Taylor’s Revelations

To my surprise, Corey Taylor dropped a book, Seven Deadly Sins, spilling his guts about stuff he never mentioned in interviews—like battling suicide, alcoholism, and abuse from someone he trusted. Hearing Corey lay it all bare hit me hard—it was like the masked guy who screamed my pain in songs like Wait & Bleed was suddenly human, wrestling demons I could relate to. That raw honesty showed the real Corey behind Slipknot’s masks, pouring out the kind of ugly truth their music always screamed. Fans were floored, seeing the man behind the chaos, and it reminded me why I got hooked on their sound—it’s not just noise, it’s survival. After my own beef with him, that book was a gut check, making my truce with him feel right, like we were both moving past the heavy stuff to find something real. It’s what Slipknot’s always been about—facing the dark and coming out stronger.

Outro: Reflecting on the Ride

This story isn’t about me hunting down Slipknot—it’s about how my love for their raw, chaotic sound pulled me into their orbit at the right times. From catching their early Colorado Springs show to sneaking backstage in Portland at 3AM, those moments with Jim Root, Joey Jordison, Corey Taylor, and Sid were electric, fueled by my passion for music. The highs of vibing with the band crashed into lows—like the parking lot incident, the sting of suspected lyric theft, and grappling with Paul Gray’s death. But through it all, I found closure, offering Corey a truce and letting go of old grudges. Slipknot’s journey from a Des Moines demo to global fame mirrors my own path of chasing what sets my soul on fire. Joey’s resilience with Sinsaenum and Corey’s raw honesty in his book remind me that music, like life, is about pushing through the chaos to find meaning.