DISGRACELAND - Slipknot: Death, Destruction, and Des Moines

Episode Date: July 28, 2026

Slipknot was the most extreme thing to come out of Iowa since taco pizza was invented there in 1974. Their sound was massive: nine masked members played with brutal force, propelling their fans, affectionally known as "maggots," to a cathartic release of destructive energy at every show. But when two teenage fans claimed that the band's songs inspired them to commit murder, the destructive energy Slipknot had so far controlled began to tear the band apart. This episode was originally published on March 27, 2025. Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - GET THE NEWSLETTER Follow Jake and DISGRACELAND: Instagram YouTube X (formerly Twitter)  Facebook Fan Group TikTokSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Elvis. My first guest is Terrence Hilton. Shakira. Luke and Yerrin. You have surprises? Many surprises. Welcome to the Sweet 305 podcast where the group check comes to life.

What on? You're the only person I know that loves the Yellow Starburst. It's lemonade. Listen to Sweet 305 with Lelepons. Open your free I-Heart Radio app. Search Sweet 305 and listen now. In the middle of the night, Saskia awoke in a haze. Her husband, Mike, was on his laptop.

What was on his screen would change Saskia's life forever. I said, I need you to tell me exactly what you're doing. And immediately, the mask came off. You're supposed to be safe. That's your home. That's your husband. Listen to Betrayal Season 5 on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. I'm Stephanie Young.

The hit podcast Love Trapped is back with new updates in the case of Laura Owens. This is CR 2025, State versus Laura Owens. I think she really believes that she still hasn't out. I'm quite confident that they're up to something. We're following the case live as the criminal charges finally come to a conclusion. Trust us when we tell you as the victims of Laura Owens, she will not stop. Listen to Love Trapped on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or we're wherever you get your podcasts.

Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. This is a story about death. The smell of it, the feel of it, the finality of it. It's a story about being bored to death, about being beaten to death. It's about sudden death and a death by a thousand cuts. Most importantly, it's a story about death metal. Because this is also the story of a band, a band whose music was so dark that one of their members quit rather than risk eternal damnation.

A band whose live shows were so intense, they nearly left one band member dead. A band whose music was so disturbing, so evil, that some would say it led to a murder. This is the story of Slipknot. The most extreme thing to come out of Iowa, since the Taco Pizza, was invented there in 1974, a band known for their stage mass as much as their music. Great music. Unlike that loop I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my Melotron called Ozempic Face MK1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to get busy by Sean Paul.

And why would I play you that specific slice of down and dirty cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on May 23, 2003. And that was the day two California teenagers committed a brutal murder. A murder they claimed was inspired by Slipknot. On this episode, Death, Metal, Down in Dirty Cheese, in the Dark World of Slipknot. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgrace land. He was screaming as he hit the water. Instantly, he knew he made a terrible mistake.

The water was swirling all around him, flooding into his mouth and filling his throat and pushing into his lungs. Panicking. He tried to wriggle his arms free, but they were pinned tightly to his side. He couldn't move them an inch as his body sunk deeper and deeper into the murky water. His legs were in the air kicking frantically, and he prayed that someone, anyone, would help him. But no one noticed. Or if they did, they were probably laughing. He was a clown after all.

Well, he was wearing a clown mask, at least. The man currently drowning in a metal bag. was Sean Cran, aka number six, aka Clown, the founder of Slipknot. And he was about to die tragically, choking to death in 18 inches of water, stuck upside down in a trash can in front of thousands of metalheads at Ozfest, 1999. That summer, the band broke out on their first nationwide tour as part of the Ozfest lineup. But even among bands like Slayer, Godsmack, and System of a Down, Slipknot stood out.

First, there were the sheer numbers. There were nine of them, like some kind of heavy metal Wutan clan. Then there was the way they looked, like nine psychos wearing matching jumpsuits and creepy rubber masks covering their faces. But none of that would have mattered if this band didn't bring it on stage. And that's exactly what they did. Their sound was massive, multiple percussionists, singers, a DJ, a sampler, two guitars,

in a big, driving rhythm section. And they played with sheer force, brutal force. The band leapt around the stage like animals jumping onto and over each other, leaping into the crowd, and routinely pushing themselves until they left blood, puk, or any number of other bodily fluids dripping from their mass by the end of the show. As clown, Sean Cran pushed it further than anyone. He would buy whole cow's heads from the butcher and toss them on stage or into the crowd.

He stuffed dead birds into jars and left them to rot so the band could get the smell of death on them before a show. Just like Mayhem did back in Norway in the early days of black metal, Cran from Slipknot would do anything to work the crowd into a frenzy when it became his time in the late 90s. And now, it looked like he was going to pay the ultimate price. The trash can stunt was one of his usual moves. He would find a trash can here the stage, dive into it, and go rolling into the mosh pit,

causing mayhem. It always made the crowd go crazy. Only this time, when he jumped face-first into the barrel, it was half full of water or whatever disgusting liquid might be floating around inside an Ozfest trash can. Cran's entire face was underwater. His arms were stuck tight in darkness was gathering all around him. He could see black rings in the corner of his vision, and they were growing larger and larger. His legs quit kicking, preparing for the inevitable.

He hoped that dying at Ozfest would at least make him a legend. And just when he was on the verge of blacking out, the crowd surged forward and someone slammed into the barrel and tipped it over. went pouring everywhere, and Sean Cran finally crawled free, gasping for breath and puking up mouples of the foul-smelling water. After a few seconds to catch his breath, he jumped to his feet and sprinted back to the stage, and there was no time to recover. He started pounding on a metal beer keg as the next song kicked in. It was all on the day's work for one of the biggest metal bands in America. Four years before that, when Cran pulled into an empty gas station parking lot

in the middle of the night, it would have been impossible to imagine that it would lead here. It was one of those cold Des Moines winter nights, 1995. A pair of 20-something metalheads pushed their way into an empty Sinclair gas station. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Sean looked around the empty store at the aisles of candy, beer, and porno magazines. And standing beside him was a friend and fellow musician, Paul Gray. Paul nodded at the short teenager with the long. long hair working the counter, and they bumped fists with a grin.

That was how Paul was. Everybody knew him in Des Moines, and everybody loved him, including the guy behind the counter. His name was Joey Jordison, and although he was only 5'3, he was a ferocious drummer. And Paul thought he would be the perfect addition to the new metal band they were putting together, because Paul lived and breathed metal, unlike Sean. As a teenager, Sean was into punk. He loved that it had something to be. say. And the way the music raged against bigotry and conformity and equality, metal to Sean was nothing more than the hairspray bands that got played on MTV, bands like Warren and Poison. But Paul showed him a different side of heavy metal. Music that was raw, angry, music with a message.

Soon, Sean was slamming around to bands like Cannibal Corpse and Morbid Angel. He and Paul were determined to invade the Des Moines metal scene with a band every bit as heavy, over the top. and outrageous as their heroes. And once Joey, the little dude behind the counter, agreed to join them on drums, the pieces slowly began to come together. It was Joey who suggested that they named the band Slipknot after a song they had been working on with the same name.

And not long after, Sean wore a creepy clown mask he bought at a Halloween store to band practice as a joke. But there was something so sinister that the idea stuck, and soon everyone had a mask and a number in place of their name. It was so dark, so disturbing, and it was perfect. Because right from the start, the music of Slipknot was some of the most dark and disturbing music anyone in Iowa had ever heard. It was so dark that even though they were filling clubs, they still couldn't find even a tiny little indie label willing to take on the band.

It was so dark that the band's first guitarist Donnie Steele, a practicing Christian, quit the band rather than subject himself to that kind of darkness. Not that Sean cared. If he was running people off, he figured their music might be touching a nerve. Besides, when he looked out into the crowd and saw a massive kids writhing to the music like maggots. In fact, that's what he nicknamed their fans. The maggots, he didn't think it was dark at all. Darkness was already out there in the world.

And people needed something to release that darkness inside of them. Something to vent their frustrations. And that was the beauty of a heavy metal show. The kids in the crowd went nuts on, each other for two hours, but they left that darkness behind, and then they went home in peace. At least that's what Sean tried to explain to Donnie. Placing Donnie on guitar, though, didn't worry, Sean. That was the easy part.

What worried him was that after the band spent $40,000 of their own money to record a proper demo, he could hear that their sound wasn't right. Sure, the sound was big, but it needed to be bigger. It was also missing something. for all the grunting, growling and unhinged screaming, sometimes they just needed someone who could, well, sing. Just that tiny bit of sugar to help all the darkness go down. Because they had fans.

Every show seemed to bring out more and more than maggots. And they had an image, and they had the drive. But if they're ever going to break out of Des Moines, they're going to need a new lead singer. Are the host of the podcast, Oncore. our brand new episodes featuring music from the show that everyone is reheating as we speak. Heated rivalry. Join me as I go behind the songs that brought Shane and Elya together.

I'll tell you the stories of Fice, My Moon, My Man, Wolf forades, I'll believe in anything, and tattoos all the things she said, and how they all became a part of this global phenomenon. Stream encore on IHeart Radio, crave, or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Stephanie Young. The hit podcast Love Trapped is back with new updates in the case of Laura Owens. This is CR 2025 State v. Laura Owens. I think she really believes that she still hasn't out. I'm quite confident that they're up to something.

We're following the case live as the criminal charges finally come to a conclusion. Trust us when we tell you as the victims of Laura Owens, she will not stop. Listen to Love Trapped on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. In the middle of the night, Sascha awoke in a haze. Her husband, Mike, was on his laptop. What was on his screen would change Saskia's life forever. I said, I need you to tell me exactly what you're doing. And immediately, the mask came off.

You're supposed to be safe. That's your home. That's your husband. Listen to Betrayal Season 5 on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. The smell of death was everywhere. Sure, maybe not to a human, but the rats, they could smell it. And they were closing in. From the shadows, they crept closer, scurrying through the parking lot,

trailing the scent past gas pumps and around piles of old tires. People think of rats as a city problem, but the truth is that they multiply everywhere. Rural areas mean farmland, and farmland means food, and food means survival. Of course, country rats don't have it quite as easy as rats in the city. While you might catch a New York City rat dragging a slice of pepperoni pizza across the subway platform, out in Waterloo, Iowa in 1988, these rats had to scratch and claw and kill each other just to stay alive. So when the smell of fresh death hit their noses, they knew they would have to act fast. there would be competition.

Some of the boldest rats weren't going to wait for death to overtake the body lying in the dumpster. The smell of blood was driving them into a frenzy, so they began to climb onto the dumpster, and they tested the lids in their claws, made a tapping noise as they scurried across the thick black plastic, looking for a way in. Suddenly, the lid flew open, sending rats flying in every direction. A 15-year-old, Corey Taylor sat up with a shud. He let out a blood-curdling scream. And speaking of blood, it was everywhere, soaked into his t-shirt, caked onto his nose, covering

his lips, and his shoes were missing. He had no idea what day it was. He had no idea where he was. All he knew was that his friends, his so-called friends, had left him for dead. Not that he was too surprised. Even though he was only 15 years old, he was already living. like somebody on borrowed time. First, there was his birthday.

December 8th. The date was seriously cursed. Jim Morrison, born on December 8th, died young. Sam Kinnison, born on December 8th, died young. Frank Sinatra Jr., kidnapped on December 8th. John Lennon shot on December 8th. You remember that Vince Neal car crash

where he killed the guy from Hanoi Rocks? Want to guess what day that happened on? You got it. December 8th. Corey's problem only began with his birthday, though. He was born in Iowa, but his mom dragged him and his sister across the country looking for a man, a payday, or perhaps both. But by the time he was 10, Corey had lived in 25 different states. The paydays were hard to come by.

But his mom always seemed to find a certain type of man, guys with thick moustaches and cheap turquoise rings, the kind who wouldn't hesitate to backhand a nine-year-old boy with a big mouth. Grown-up bullies. Corey hated bullies. The kind who shacked up with his mom and put scars on his face. The kind that roamed the halls at school looking for victims to torment. And the kind that lured him in before taking advantage.

Like the kid who lived next door when Corey's mom dragged him down to Florida. He was five years older, and he had a great record collection. So he started inviting Corey over to listen to music, Public Enemy, Slayer, Metallica. The music blew Corey's mind. mind, he started dreaming about being a singer. And the listening sessions also gave him a safe place to be away from the chaos at home. Or so he thought. One day, while they were listening to music, the older boy pounced on him.

He pinned him to the ground and took advantage of a 10-year-old Corey. And then he made Corey swear to keep it a secret or else he would kill Corey and his family. So Corey kept quiet. But by the time his family moved back to Iowa, the rage inside of him was burning out of control. He fought with his mom. He got in trouble at school. He stayed out late, ran with the wild crowd, and took every drug that he could get his hands on.

But getting tossed in a dumpster and left for dead was too big of a wake-up call to ignore. Corey knew that something had to change. So he left Waterloo to move in with his grandma in Des Moines, and she gave him love and stability, and she supported his musical ambitions even though Elvis Presley was the heaviest thing that she had ever listened to. And in Des Moines, Corey Taylor found a thriving metal scene.

More kids, like him, fed up than looking for a place to vent their feelings, and where they could slam into each other and bang their heads and find something sort of like a family. Corey started a band called Stone Sauer and began packing clubs locally, but he was on the lookout for something bigger, something heavier, something that could incorporate his love for both Slayer and Public Enemy. Something that could take over the world. That's why he was standing in the front row of a tiny Des Moines club called the Safari in April of 1996.

He was there to check out the debut performance from a band of heavy hitters on the local metal scene. It included Paul Gray on bass, Sean Cran on percussion, and Joey Jordison on drums. They were called Slipknot. While 200 people were stomping their feet and waiting for the band who emerged from back. backstage, Corey watched in awe as a group of masked men emerged from the back of the room and ran through the crowd like a marauding gang on their way to the stage. Once they were there, the tall bass player, who Corey figured was Paul Gray, even with the pig mask covering his face, hit a thunderous low note. The drummer pounded out of Phil. And then everyone, the band,

the crowd, and Corey in the front row went off. 90 minutes later, Corey was sure of him. This band could take over the world. They were only missing one thing. Him. It took a year, but eventually Paul, Sean, Joey, and guitarist Mick Thompson officially invited Corey to join Slipknot as a lead singer. And Corey agreed.

He picked out a mask and adopted the number 8, aka Infinity, aka Forever, because that's how long you wanted his songs to be remembered. It may have seemed like a big brag at first, but soon it was becoming reality because with Corey in the mix, suddenly the band had a totally new dimension. They had a singer who could growl, who could scream, who could rap, and yes, sing an honest-to-god melody when the time came. And with Corey Taylor as lead singer, the band's sound expanded dramatically. They added a DJ, bringing their number to nine. Death metal, rap, punk, thrash. They were throwing it all into the mix and all of it worked.

Their self-titled album became the fastest-selling debut in heavy metal history. Their pulverizing sets at Ozfest in 1999 cemented their status as one of the heaviest bands on the scene. The pressure to go even further on their follow-up was huge. So Corey dug deep into painful memories from growing up to harness lyrics for the second album. He spilled out grotesque revenge fantasies against the bullies who tormented him. Dark stories of his homeless years as a teenager. He also laid down withering critiques of the fame-hungry coattail riders

and clueless record executives who were beginning to circle the band. It all made for haunting material. But it also took its toll. Corey began drinking more and more as he dug deeper and deeper into the worst memories of his life. And the alcohol made him feel numb. In the recording studio, he would drink till he puked in order to take away the pain. But then he would resort to cutting himself with shards of broken glass just to feel something so he could make it through a song.

The recording process was as brutal as the record itself, but it all seemed worth it when Iowa was released in 2001. The album went all the way to number three on the Billboard charts. But after several years of intense touring and recording, the band was coming apart at the seams, and the darkness that they harnessed in the recording studio was leaking out into the real world. because Corey Taylor's dream of having his music remembered forever

was about to come true in the worst possible way. We'll be right back after this world, word, word. I'm Ruby Carr, the host of the podcast, Encore. Check out our brand new episodes featuring music from the show that everyone is reheating as we speak. Heated rivalry. Join me as I go behind the songs that brought Shane and Elia together. I'll tell you the stories of Fice, My Moon, My Man,

wolf forades I'll believe in anything, and tattoos all the things she said, and how they all became a part of this global phenomenon. Stream encore on IHeart Radio, Crave, or wherever you get your podcasts. My first guest is Paris Hilton, Shakira, Luke, and Yerrin. You have surprises? Many surprises. Welcome to the Sweet 305 podcast, where the group chat comes to life. What a!

You're the only person I know that loves the Yellow Starburst. It's lemonade. Listen to Sweet 305 with Lelepons. Open your free IHeartRadio app. Search Sweet 305 and listen now. This is Chelsea Handler from Dear Chelsea. Every week, the news gets worse. The world gets crazier.

And Yamanika is here to tell whoever's responsible, you're the problem. Do you know I just found out who Sidney Sweeney was? If he got a bunch of women, then I should have a bunch of men. Do better or do less, so I don't have to do so much. I'm Yamanika, and I'm out. Listen to, to you're the woman. problem with Yamanika starting on July 15th on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever

you get your podcast. Darkness stretched out like a blanket. It covered the baseball fields, the playgrounds too, and also the palm and pepper trees. In the late night hour, that darkness covered every inch of Paris Hill Park in San Bernardino. It was a warm May night, and the wind rustled through the leaves of the trees. Everything else was silent. And from the walking path high up on the hill, everything seemed still down below. Everything except two barely visible human outlines leaning against the tree.

They were Jason Harris, age 20, and Amber Riley, age 16. From the path, they wouldn't have looked too suspicious. Maybe a young couple of her clandestine late-night Mina. They're just some friends sneaking a smoke and sharing a pair of headphones hooked up to a D. Walkman. And that was the problem for Jason. Were he and Amber friends? Or were they something more?

Amber knew he was obsessed with her, but she toyed with him. She acted like his girlfriend, and then she would flirt with their friend Terry. And it drove Jason fucking mad. Besides, he and Amber had so much in common. They both loved horror movies, death metal, horror core rap. The more gruesome, the better. and they couldn't get enough of that shit. And Amber talked all the time about wanting to see a dead body.

Jason had practiced on a few neighborhood pets. But tonight, they're going to go further because Jason had a plan that would bind him and Amber together forever. They were going to find out what it was like to kill someone. As a lone figure emerged on the walking path far in the distance, Jason hit the back button on the CD player. instantly, a squealing guitar riff kicked the song to life. He and Amber locked eyes, and they started chanting along with the singer,

words about vengeance and brutal violence. Jason pulled the knife out, and the blade glinted in the moonlight as he set it down behind his back. A moment later, their friend Terry emerged from the shadows. He nodded to Jason, but his face lit up with a smile when he saw Amber. Jason could tell Terry had a thing for Amber. fucking Terry. Terry sat down next to Amber and began to chat without a care in the world. Jason laid back for a few moments, waiting.

Then he started having second thoughts. Maybe they should call it off. But Amber locked eyes with him, and he couldn't resist. He could hear the song playing on repeat in his mind. Then he picked up the knife and plunged it down into his friend Terry's chest again and again. The next morning, Police found the body a Terry Taylor with his throat slashed and more than 20 stab wounds in his body. Jason's mother called the police when he and Amber asked her for help getting bloodstains out of their clothes.

When the police questioned them, the song the pair said they were listening to on repeat was Disaster Piece by Slipknot. It was 2003 and Darkness was everywhere as the members of Slipknot were moving into Rick Rubin's house and studio to begin working on their third album. Corey Taylor may have written disaster piece as a fuck you to the bullies of his childhood, but in 2003 no one wanted to hear it in the media firestorm that followed. Radio stations quit playing the band's music. High schools banned kids from wearing their shirts. Paul Gray was concerned. Darkness was starting to engulf the band from the inside.

The pressure from their success, the media frenzy from the murders, all combined with the physical toll of constant touring, and recording, it was driving the band apart. They canceled a European tour, citing tensions within the band, and then they announced the hiatus. Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root reformed Stone Sour, and had an immediate alternative rock hit. Joey Jorison started his own band Murder Dolls.

Sean Cran was busy with a new record label he was starting, but Paul Gray didn't take on any side projects. As one of the founders of Slipknot, Paul had been the first. since the beginning. And ever since he put on the mask, Paul knew that Slipknot was his band for life. So he tried to hold the rest of the band together. And as the rest of the band slid further apart, Paul slid further and further into heroin. Because for a band with big appetites, Paul Gray, aka number two, aka Pig, had the biggest appetite of them all. He loved the maggots. after shows and anywhere he would come across him,

he would always find time to chat with fans. And he loved to write songs. In fact, he and Joey had recorded dozens of demos for the new Slipknot album. And he loved heroin, especially when he had nothing to do. Which is exactly what Paul had been doing at Rick Rubin's Laurel Canyon Mansion

for the last three months. Nothing. When he arrived in L.A., Paul was eager to get to work. so he was disappointed when he pulled up to the mansion and everyone was gone. Corey split for the rainbow on the sunset strip almost as soon as he dropped his bags. And Sean was still finalizing details for a band on his label. And Rick Rubin, well, nobody knew where Rick Rubin was. Paul woke up every day hoping the band would start recording.

But with all it goes around, it became impossible. So he spent his days sitting on a couch in the recording studio with nothing to do. except heroin. After three months of shooting dope and sitting on a couch, things were trending in a seriously bad direction for Paul when Rick Rubin finally made his appearance. It was a normal day, and Paul stumbled out of bed at two in the afternoon.

He grabbed his bag and headed down to the bathroom, fully prepared to get high and to zone out for another pointless day while the band he loved fell apart around him. But just as he reached the bathroom door, Rick Rubin stepped in front of his path. I'm calling a band meeting. That was all he said. And then he handed Paul a cup of tea.

Downstairs, Paul was shocked to see the rest of the band all in the same room for the first time in weeks. He had to give Rick Rubin credit for that much, at least. There was no equipment, no microphones, and nothing set up at all except nine chairs. Paul is expecting a recording session, but instead, he got a group therapy session with Rick Rubin as counselor. It never should have worked. It was so predictable. And they were a metal band, after all, but no matter how awkward it was, Rick Rubin stuck with it. He got them talking, and he got them vending.

And soon, they were releasing all that darkness that they had been holding inside. The grudges, the resentments, the anger, the guilt. No one pulled any punches. For hours, they went at it, bashing each other like the kids in the mosh pit. It was exhausting, but it was also cathartic. And whatever it was, it worked. Paul swore that he only saw Rick Rubin five more times during the making of the album, but he'd done the producer's most important job.

He got the making music again. He was gone. But not before we helped the band stage an intervention with Paul. And they'd given him an ultimatum, go to rehab or quit the band. Paul chose rehab. He would do anything to stay in Slipknot. He even finished his bass parts while living in a halfway house. And it worked.

Paul managed to get off drugs. And after a few close calls of his own, Corey Taylor was sober as well when Volume 3, the subliminal verses came out to rave reviews in 2004. It seemed like the band was locked and loaded for their second era when 2008's All Hope is Lost debuted at number one on the Billboard charts. But after that album, came another grueling world tour. And Joey was starting to complain about pains in his legs,

and Corey was eager to take off the mask and get Stone Sour back on the road and Sean had a million different projects that he was diving into. And by 2010, it seemed once again like Paul's makeshift family was scattering in every direction. He was the bass player for Slipknot, and no more and no less. And his calendar looked empty, maybe forever. All he could see again was endless boredom. Paul knew about one cure for boredom, but sometimes, unfortunately, the cure was world. than the disease.

It was a beautiful sunlit day at England's Nebworth Park. A hundred thousand metal fans stretched out as far as the eye could see. Everything looked just like it should. And there was a massive tower of speakers stretching up into the sky, and the sponsor's banners flapping in the breeze, and of course the inescapable smell of middle-grade grass floating through the air. Still, something was strange, and something was off, something was wrong.

Because despite the beautiful weather, despite the massive festival crowd, despite the decent bud and the overpriced beers, despite all the bands on the bill, the park was dead silent. Someone walked toward the front of the stage. On a stand, they placed a red jumpsuit and a mask, a bass guitar,

rested in a stand nearby. And the crowd stood in silence as the seconds ticked on for two full minutes before they finally let out a deafening roar. From the wings of the stage, the members of the band's Slipknotts stood unmasked, waving to the crowd with tears in their eyes. All eight of them. Because Paul Gray was dead.

Many people believe that Paul Gray had been able to stay clean after his stint in rehab in 2003. Unfortunately, many people were wrong. It turned out that as far back as 2005, Paul's personal physician was writing in prescriptions for heavy doses of morphine and Xanax. His doctor did this despite knowing Paul's history with drug addiction. In fact, the doctor would be tried for manslaughter in 2012, although he was eventually found not guilty. For Paul Gray, once Slipknot's 2009 World Tour ended, he quickly spiraled out of control. His wife, who was pregnant with their first child, attempted to stage an intervention with their immediate family on May 23, 2010.

Rather than submit to another round of detox, Paul fled in his car. and he drove to a hotel room in Urbondale, Iowa. The next day, the hotel manager discovered him in his room with a needle in his arm. The members of Slipknot, a band that had been together for more than 15 years, had been growing apart before Paul's death. But the tragedy reinforced their bond with each other and with their fans. Every show became an outpouring of rage, of grief, of frustration. And just like it had been when the band was playing tiny clubs in Des Moines,

it was incredibly cathartic. For the next year, the band took the stage with eight members, leaving Paul's jumpsuit and mask on stage as a tribute. As for the bass lines themselves, the band kept it in the family. Original guitarist Donnie Steele, the one who had been scared off by the darkness of the band's material in the beginning, returned to the fold to fill in the gap on bass, although he played offstage to better help the band and the fans grieve. In 2014, the band released Five, the great. chapter and tribute to their fallen bandmate. The album once again topped the billboard charts. But troubles continued to follow the band. Original drummer Joey Jordison was forced to leave the

group after a rare neurological disease robbed him of the use of his legs. Guitarist Mick Thompson was nearly killed when his brother stabbed him in the back of the head in 2015. That's how crazy the stories are about this band, all right? The guitarist gets stabbed in the back of his head by his brother and it only got one line in this episode. Joey Jordansson died in 2021 as a result of transverse myelitis, the disease that took the use of his legs, which left Sean Cran as the only founding member of the band left as of this recording. That's the thing about a band like Slipknot.

The faces can change, but the mass remain. And so Slipknot keeps thrashing their way into the future, taking on the darkness, embracing it, owning it, and then destroy. because metal is all about release, and almost everyone knows that. But some people take the darkness way too literally. And that's a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is Disgraceland.

Disgraceland was created by Euris Truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page at disgracelampod.com. If you're listening as a Disgraceland All-Axist member, thank you for supporting the show. We really appreciate it. And if not, you can become a member right now by going to disgracelandpod.com slash membership. Members can listen to every episode of Disgraceland ad-free. Plus, you'll get one brand new exclusive episode every month.

Weekly unscripted bonus episodes, special audio collections, and early access to merchandise and events. Visit disgracelampod.com slash membership for detail. Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at Disgraceland Pod, and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at Disgraceland Pod. Rockerola. Anything inside those eyes, they turn black. It scared the hell out of me.

People wake up. I'm the one that saw the murder take place by Crevette and DePippo. Anthony DePippo showed no signs of remorse, appearing unfazed after being sentenced to the I said I'm not guilty. I'll take it to the grave. Listen to the devil's quarry in the Bone Valley Feed on the IHeart Radio app. Apple Podcasts, wherever you get your podcasts. On Boxing Day 2018, Joy Morgan was last seen at her secretive church. Six weeks later, she's reported missing.

I'm Charlie Brinkhurst Cuff, and after years of investigating Joy's case, I need to know what really happened to Joy. This is the missing sister, the true story of a woman betrayed by those she trusted most. Listen to The Missing Sister on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, everyone, it's the Jonas Brothers. If you haven't heard, our new podcast is called Hey Jonas. And this week, we're hanging out with someone we're really big fans of. Millie Bobby Brown.

We talk about her new movie, Anola Holmes 3, family life, and all the amazing things she has going on right now. Plus, we find out what she really feels about the Stranger Things ending. You have over 60 animals. I don't know where the number's 60, and I really got to figure that out. There have been plenty of sheep in my bed. It's a big bed. Literally sleeping in the bed.

Listen to Hey Jonas on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts.