Disturbed
– The Sickness
The Sickness turns rage into structure and sells it with absolute conviction.
Disturbed arrive loud, coiled, and confrontational on The Sickness. The album thrives on blunt force and discipline, with riffs locked into rigid patterns and vocals delivered like commands. Every track leans into control, tension, and release as deliberate tools.
Best of…
The sound hits with mechanical precision and physical intent. Guitars grind in thick, repetitive shapes. Drums strike with militant timing. David Draiman’s voice dominates the mix, shifting between barked authority and serrated melody, projecting menace with theatrical confidence.
The Sickness captures anger as structure rather than chaos. Disturbed shape aggression into anthems built for mass response, each song asserting dominance through repetition and pressure. The record values intimidation, stamina, and unity, turning frustration into a rallying cry.
Choice Tracks
Down with the Sickness
The anthem. The war cry. The song that took over rock radio and never left. That primal “Ooh-wah-ah-ah-ah” intro is so burned into the collective memory of heavy music fans that it practically needs no introduction. The groove hits hard, the chorus is massive, and the sheer aggression in Draiman’s delivery is impossible to ignore.
A defining statement powered by stop-start riffs and vocal dramatics that demand attention. The track thrives on tension and release, channeling fury into a chant-ready form that thrives on crowd energy and collective confrontation.
Stupify
This song locks into a grinding groove that feels oppressive by design. The verses coil tight before snapping open, with Draiman’s delivery emphasizing control and contempt. Its structure reinforces the album’s fixation on power and restraint. Pure rhythmic mayhem. The chugging guitars lock into a tight, almost hypnotic groove while Draiman bounces between rapid-fire verses and a soaring chorus. The way the track builds and releases tension is masterful, making it one of the album’s most addictive listens.
Voices
An unsettling track driven by paranoia and inner conflict. The pacing stays taut, letting the rhythm build pressure while the vocal performance spirals with intent. It captures mental strain through repetition and forceful cadence. An opener that doesn’t waste any time. That opening riff is an immediate gut punch, setting the tone for everything that follows. The song rides a perfect balance of heaviness and melody, proving right from the start that Disturbed wasn’t just another nu-metal band—they had something different.
Fear
One of the most relentless tracks on the album. The industrial-tinged riffing and aggressive delivery make this one of the heaviest moments on The Sickness, with Draiman sounding completely unhinged in the best way. It’s all about power—unapologetic, in-your-face power.
Droppin’ Plates
An underrated gem that’s equal parts ridiculous and undeniably fun. The mix of spoken-word bravado, thick bass lines, and pounding riffs makes it a unique standout. It’s almost like Disturbed decided to throw every bit of their energy into one track just to see what would happen—and somehow, it works.
The Sickness was more than a nu-metal album; it was a statement. It took all the frustration and rage of the era and funneled it into something explosive, something built to last. Even now, it still sounds like a punch to the gut—in the best way possible.
Shout 2000
A sharp-edged reinterpretation driven by industrial punch and vocal aggression. Disturbed reshape familiar words into something physical and confrontational, using rhythm and emphasis to transform tension into blunt-force release.
The Sickness presents Disturbed as architects of controlled aggression, crafting heavy rock built on repetition, dominance, and crowd command. The album channels anger into rigid forms designed for impact, unity, and physical response.
The Sickness grabbed you by the throat, and demanded your attention. Disturbed bulldozed their way into the nu-metal scene, armed with crunching riffs, relentless grooves, and David Draiman’s now-iconic guttural bark. It was raw, aggressive, and unashamedly primal, built on the kind of controlled chaos that made every song feel like a battle cry.
What made The Sickness stand out wasn’t just the heaviness—it was the precision. These songs were tight, mechanical in their construction but never lifeless. Dan Donegan’s riffs punched hard, Mike Wengren’s drums hit like a hammer to the skull, and Draiman’s voice switched effortlessly between a menacing snarl and a soaring, melodic croon. It was the perfect balance of rage and control, making even the most furious moments feel calculated. And while some nu-metal albums of the era were weighed down by gimmicks or dated production, The Sickness still sounds massive.
Lyrically, it was a dive into the darkest corners of the mind—abuse, anger, paranoia, defiance. It was confrontational, uncomfortable at times, and built to resonate with anyone who’d ever felt trapped or beaten down. And yet, for all the darkness, there was something energizing about it. These weren’t songs about giving up. They were about fighting back, about channeling fury into something explosive. Twenty-plus years later, it still does exactly that.