Full disclosure: my Limp Bizkit knowledge was basically a relic of the early 2000s. Sure, I vaguely remembered Chester Bennington mentioning them on Linkin Park's "Live in Texas" DVD, and Woodstock '99 left a blurry, mosh-pit-induced impression from a documentary I just watched with my wife this past spring (which left us both speechless). But stepping into the chaotic atmosphere of the Loserville Tour as a photographer was something I don't think I was ready for.

Walking in, I saw an almost endless sea of red hats. My first thought was, "Oh, maybe they have a far-reaching following." But as I started asking those in the pit about the purpose of the backwards red hats, they all directed me to their leader tattooed on their arms and printed on their fan-made t-shirts: Fred Durst, lead singer of the headlining act Limp Bizkit. He was their hero, and for many of them, had been since the 90s. A mix of young and young-at-heart fans filled the entire pavilion, creating a stark difference from some of the shows I've seen this summer here in Indianapolis.

The opening acts were a mixed bag, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, the talent was there. Corey Feldman brought a theatrical rock energy that got the crowd warmed up, but it wasn't quite the act I was craving for a Nu-Metal nostalgia fest. N8NOFACE and BONES delivered solid sets – a heady blend of punk-infused electronica and dark, hypnotic hip-hop, respectively. They were technically impressive, but something was missing – that spark that ignites a connection and lingers long after the last note fades. Maybe it's my age, but I genuinely didn't understand a word they said. Again, they did well, but it still wasn't what I was expecting, even if N8NOFACE began his set with a head strike and performed with a gash bleeding the entire time.

Then, Limp Bizkit hit the stage. The energy shift was palpable. It was like a sonic boom straight back to the era of baggy pants, chunky sneakers, and pure, unadulterated nu-metal mayhem. Standing right next to the subwoofers, I could feel my feet vibrate off the ground. It was intense. Suddenly, my camera roll was overflowing with images of a crowd erupting in unison, fists pumping the air as Fred Durst's unmistakable voice belted out classics like "Nookie" and "Rollin' (Air Raid Vehicle)." When they played their song “Break Stuff” I even looked back and saw crowd surfing, which is something I have not seen at this venue in at least a decade.

Here's the thing: somewhere along the way, Limp Bizkit's music had infiltrated my subconscious. Songs I didn't even realize I knew were suddenly blasting through my core, the lyrics tumbling out of my mouth alongside the rest of the amped-up audience. Looking back at the crowd, from the front to the lawn, it was a full-on nostalgia mosh pit party everywhere, and I was loving every minute of capturing it.

Walking out of the venue, my body was still reverberating from the massive bass woofers at the stage's base. Unsure if this was everyone’s show of choice, but anyone there would have enjoyed this, I thought Limp Bizkit was a treat, and to my surprise I would absolutely see them again if they were ever back in Indy. While their entire career might highlight an era gone by, their music can bridge the gap between generations and leave you feeling like you just discovered a hidden gem.