Some bands keep their fans at a safe distance. Korn keep them in a cage on stage. And it's this heart-warming attitude to the kids that shifts thousands of T-shirts and sells millions of albums around the world. In America, Korn's first two albums - the self-titled Korn and Life is Peachy - went platinum with no radio airplay or MTV backing.

In Britain they've built a young and devoted following of teenagers whose parents don't understand them. It's an atmosphere of expectation and complete deference that fills Wembley Arena. Life sucks - but there's always singer Jonathan Davis and his screeching tales of child abuse and pleas to be left alone to get you through the odd bad day at school. Like Korn's new, fourth album says, it's all about the Issues, man.

Davis, dressed like Rasputin, voice full of rage, stands centre-stage surveying the crowd furiously throwing themselves at his feet as the band wring the life out of Good God. The sound at Wembley is uniquely terrible. Live favourite Blind is powerful but rock by numbers, all crashing symbols, powerchords and head-banging without a hint of irony.

Davis is a rock'n'roll ham in the Kiss tradition, part showbiz, part shockmeister. In the second of three costume changes, he walks on stage wearing a kilt and playing the bagpipes for Shoots and Ladders. The band's synchronised dance moves and the cheery singalong of "get the fuck out of my face" smack more of Hammer horror than intimidating rock rebels with a cause, but the kids down the front lap it up. And the ones in the cage keep smiling.