01:00 AM EST on Sunday, November 30, 2003

There's been a fair amount of glee over the recent drop in the professional fortunes of Fred Durst, the frontman of Limp Bizkit (sorry, limpbizkit according to their latest CD). And I'm here to add to it.

On this summer's Sanitarium tour, the band made at least one early exit to avoid fans who were booing and throwing things at Durst.

Reviews of the group's latest, Results May Vary, have been almost uniformly negative. And rightly so. I've never been a fan of the group, but their latest is a real stinker even by their dopey standards. Departed guitarist Wes Borland clearly knew what he was doing when he bailed out.

(Don't forget that they held open auditions for a new guitarist -- at which you had to play an original song, but sign the copyright over to the band. Nice. And the new guitar player wasn't picked from the auditions.)

Along with run-of-the-mill temper-tantrum hard rock, we get Durst's lyrical sentiments, which include, "You want nothing at all to do with me/ But I want you, ain't nothing wrong with wanting you/ 'Cause I'm a man and I can think what . . . I want/ You got that straight?/ No doubt that/ I'd love to sniff on them panties now/ I'd eat you alive."

That's on the leadoff track, not some down-the-list throwaway. Later, Durst's in a mellow mood: "Oh the winter I adore/ Summer's gone forever more/ Someday she'll come back to me/ Seasons change to set me free." Huh?

The record hasn't sold too badly -- it reached No. 3 on Billboard's Top 200 album chart. But after eight weeks, it's at No. 34 and falling -- almost certainly not what Interscope had hoped for.

Apparently, the market for childish rage and high-school profundity is drying up. Or maybe Durst's imaginative powers were spent elsewhere: encouraging male concertgoers to rip the shirts off female attendees (according to Tony Hicks of the Contra Costa Times). Or on make-believe affairs he's been promoting with Britney Spears, Halle Berry and others on his wish list.

Sorry -- there is some wiggle room here. Spears, particularly, has been evasive about whether anything happened between her and Durst. So it may not be completely accurate to say Durst is lying about his sexual exploits.

Of course, that brings up another question: Is it worse to make up an affair with someone, or to actually have an affair that the other person is embarrassed to admit to in public? That's a toss-up that only Durst could answer.

Am I kicking a man when he's down? Yes, I am. I don't intend to make a habit out of tee-heeing at the tabloid troubles our pop "heroes" get themselves into, because that doesn't have anything to do with the music. But I'll make an exception in Fred Durst's case. And here's why.

Back in February, when not only Rhode Island but much of the nation was in shock over the fire at The Station, and the death toll was still climbing, Fred Durst was asked at the Grammy Awards to comment on the catastrophe.

"I really feel bad about what just happened at the Great White concert," Durst said, "and I'm trying to put together a benefit concert for that, because I believe it's our responsibility to provide a safe place for people . . ."

On the band's Web site the day before, he had posted this message: "I am horrified at what happened to the innocent people who were burned to death at the Great White concert recently. . . . We have had our own terrible experience with a similar situation in Australia a while back. (A fan was killed in an audience stampede in 2001.) . . . I want to create some sort of benefit for the families of the ones who were lost. It feels right to get involved because I am a musician, I love music, and I love going to concerts. That could have been any one of us. . . . I can't bear to think that I won't try to make a difference this time."

Did we all miss something? Did a benefit happen without my (or anyone else in Rhode Island) knowing about it?

Many benefits have been organized for the Station Family Fund, other umbrella charities and for individual victims in the nine months since the fire. Some of them have been low-key affairs at nightclubs. Some of them were organized by people who had never put together an event in their lives. They were warm, loving events.

And there was an all-star show at the Providence Performing Arts Center in March, with Billy Gilman, Phoebe Snow, Rick Derringer, Mark Farner and more. No offense to any of these talents, who traveled far at a moment's notice for no money to benefit people they didn't know, but can you imagine the star power that a Durst-led benefit would have had? They could have had it in Hollywood. Maybe national TV. Think of the impact, and the money that would have rolled in.

Melissa Plante, who is on the board of the Station Family Fund, says that Durst was one of many rockers who promised to help when they came through the area and did nothing. "He was [at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro] on the Sanitarium Tour with Metallica, and he didn't say a bloody thing."

The fund's Victoria Potvin says, "We tried to contact him through his management, and they never responded."

(Plante did credit U2, who donated autographed merchandise to be auctioned off. She also praised Def Leppard, who came through Providence in June and not only donated merchandise but met with fire survivors and asked the Fund whether it would be appropriate to perform "Rock of Ages," which contains the phrase "gonna burn this place to the ground.")

Perhaps it's unseemly to demand charity. It's also unseemly to renege on a promise.

In the liner notes to Results May Vary, Durst writes, "If I forgot anyone, tough [expletive]. I can't remember everything all the time."

Durst's Web-site posting back in February included the phone number for his office at Flawless Entertainment Group, in California. It's (310) 865-7671. I called last week and left a message asking about the status of the Station benefit show. I got no reply.

Maybe you'll have better luck. In fact, maybe if the number is flooded with calls, we can collectively jog Durst's memory.

Also in the liner notes, Durst includes himself on his thank-you list and says, "I have managed to survive because I am a survivor."

Well, Fred, while you're "surviving" at the Playboy Mansion, there are a few real survivors in Rhode Island who are wondering what you're truly made of.

Check that. After nine months, they know.

Pop music writer Rick Massimo and other Journal arts writers share the At Large column. Reach him by e-mail at rmassimo@projo.com.