That theme of common purpose, common pain and mutual rage was repeated throughout the night. During "Eat You Alive," Durst stepped offstage and onto the shoulders of two security guards to wade into a crowd of outstretched hands. He leaned forward, bumped fists with fans and shouted just as a mosh pit opened up nearby: "This is about you!"
Borland began hitting the cymbals of drummer John Otto with his guitar. By now, Borland's entire upper torso was covered in blood-red paint, white ribs painted over his chest, and on his head was a woolly red mohawk and golden mask. He had the bizarre look of a rooster warrior.
There were women in the audience, but this was a night fueled on testosterone. Still, Durst smiled at the end of most songs, and late in the 90-minute show, he paused to point to his new wife, Esther Durst, whom he married just days earlier.
That respite was brief, and the stuttering turntables of DJ Lethal erupted once more. There would be explosions of mushroom-shaped flames, but it wasn't the pyrotechnics that connected the deepest.
During "Break Stuff," the band's anthem of pure pain and aimless destruction, Durst glanced over at Borland and bounced again to the beat, seemingly inspired by the mere presence of his own band, not angry at all.
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