Photo Credit: James Minchin
Linkin Park. Seven years after the tragic death of Chester Bennington, an event that threw the metal scene into disarray and cast a desperately needed light on men’s mental health, the California legends are back — new singer, new album, new tour, and same ol’ nu-metal band you know and love… mostly.
When Linkin Park started teasing their fan base at the end of August with a countdown, no one knew what to expect. Re-releases of old songs, perhaps some new, unreleased demos akin to Lost or Friendly Fire (more on them later!). Any hope for the band’s return was tempered with the fact that that burning flame has been around for years, and every time something else happened, it just got that much dimmer. A post from Deryck Whibley of Sum 41, stating that he was unequivocally not taking on the mantle left behind by Chester Bennington, was further fuel — Linkin Park were not coming back.
Spoiler alert: they were.
At the start of September, members of the Linkin Park Underground community based in and around California were invited to a mysterious event at Warner Bros. Studio Sound Stage. Here, they were greeted by the future of Linkin Park: returning members Brad Delson, Joe Hahn, Dave Farrell and of course Mike Shinoda, along with new members Colin Brittain and Emily Armstrong, performed a fourteen song set which included new single The Emptiness Machine. Streamed worldwide, the gig also served as an announcement for the band’s upcoming eighth studio album (From Zero, a reference to the group’s original moniker), a six-date world tour, and the first taste of Emily’s handling of Chester’s legacy.
The global reception was… mixed. Although the majority of fans were just happy to have their favourites back in whatever form they could, enough online voices raised concerns about Emily’s personal history and its perceived conflicts with Chester’s own background, the contentious statements raised by his estate and family, and the band’s handling of the situation — although it is important to remember that Chester was still only one part of the six-piece, and claims that ‘Chester Bennington was Linkin Park’ entirely disregard the rest of the group’s own contributions. Simply put, they might have been back, but not without at least some amount of controversy.
Fast forward just two weeks, and it was time for the UK stop of their tour, and the first chance for LP fans to catch sight of the band (bar Shinoda’s emotional rollercoaster solo shows) since their 2017 UK tour was tragically cut short. To say the O2 was busy would be an understatement; fans had queued up from the wee hours of the morning to get prime positions in the crowd, lines for merch seemed to span the entire venue, and buzzing faces were everywhere; despite the show’s last-minute posting, and rather heightened prices, it sold out instantly. And, as well as just serving as the opportunity for fans who never got to see the original line-up live to scratch that itch, the night also served as, arguably, the musical event of the year. Some people even say that it’s the only reason the Gallagher brothers got back together, an attempt to stop the UK scene being outshone!
With the gig being in the round, the crowd hemming the stage in, and the room already heaving, it was time for the support — and the coveted duty fell Canadian singer-songwriter, and frequent Mike Shinoda collaborator, grandson. Speaking of Mike Shinoda collaborations, that’s the track that opened the night, with Jordan Benjamin diving right into it and performing his snippet of the Shinoda solo song Running From My Shadow, blaring bass and flashing red lights setting the scene for his part of the night.
Finally seeing grandson in an arena just felt… right. Having the cavernous setting of the O2 for his explosive, electronic-laden punk-rock to echo into, the big ol’ f*ck-off speakers, the blinding lights… the sheer excess allowed him to truly go all out. Whether it was falling to his knees for the final, throat-wrenching scream of ‘let the body drop’ during 6:00, stretching out his hands like a messiah ministering to the masses during Stigmata, or sparking a few thousand phone lights to cascade through the room during Heather, one could easily be persuaded into thinking it was his arena show. Though, with the reaction, it won’t be long until that is indeed the case. 10/10
Almost an hour later, it was time. The lights dimmed, the music stopped, and the phones went up — Linkin Park had arrived. Eerie intro music serving as a soundtrack for the band’s slow emergence on stage quickly led into opener Somewhere I Belong, the audio of Hahn’s turntables and Shinoda’s bitter rapping starting the night off right.
And then came the chorus, and immediately, any fears as to Emily’s vocal credentials were put to rest. As she explored the stage, seething screams erupting from her hunched over figure, one thing was for sure — she might not be Chester, but she is a hell of a talent in her own right and besides, it’s better to have a vocalist carving their own niche than to copy someone else’s, even if you’re still borrowing their songs. The softer side, too, felt easy — Crawling, New Divide, Castle of Glass… even a snippet of Lost, especially poignant given that the song was written during recording sessions for Meteora and yet has only ever been played live by Emily. The same was true for One More Light B-side Friendly Fire, played later in the set.
Yet, as good a take as Emily might have had with the songs that made Linkin Park, it was still her own that really stood out. Case in point, recent single The Emptiness Machine, the perfect avenue for the vocalist to let out any frustrations; the crowd, too, as the loudest reaction of the night served to reflect the crowd’s support and reaffirm their love of the band and their new direction.
Despite what you’ve read above, though, it certainly wasn’t just about the new members of the band. One of the best tracks of the night might as well not have had any singing at all! A blend of instrumentals and droning vocals of The Catalyst built in to one of the most visually stunning tracks of the night, strobe lighting and haunting monitors giving way to the room shining up with the glow of impassioned fans’ phone-lights, the band flitting through a kaleidoscope of colours on the hanging monitors above them — simply superb. The same was true of the primarily-solo Mike Shinoda medley of When They Come For Me and Fort Minor’s Remember The Name, the vocalist a solitary figure standing all alone on the stage — though he was still all smiles. Even Joe Hahn got a solo after the fan favourite Castle Of Glass, his turntables a blur.
But, of course, it was still the big songs that served as sink or swim anchors for the set. What I’ve Done, Numb, In The End, Faint… songs that have shaped music history, and tracks that were undoubtedly under intense scrutiny from any old LP-hats in the audience. And, for the most part, they were fantastic — although Emily might need to work on Given Up’s overbearing, throat-wrenching, iconic fifteen second scream, each track was met with the same gravitas as you’d hope, both from crowd-delving moments of intimacy and ferocious roars.
Even the encore seemed pitch perfect, book-ending new single Heavy Is The Crown, with both Papercut and Bleed It Out. Someone referred to it as if Faint was written in this new era — and they’re not wrong. And, of course, Bleed It Out was as fun as you could ever hope. Linkin Park’s return to London was fantastic, there’s no doubt about it and yet, saying that, it still felt like there was something missing. A brilliant set, a brilliant show, a brilliant new vocalist, but the gig felt a little… empty. It was only after that it clicked.
There was little-to-no mention of Chester, even just as an avenue for catharsis for a crowd who were likely themselves hit hard by the loss, if in a probably parasocial way. The only real talking came in terms of the new album, which, although a massive deal, still felt a little like the band were trying to ignore everything going on. A fantastic night, but one that just felt it could have been any other night for the band, despite the astoundingly monumental occasion. Just another UK gig, not the first one in seven years, and the return to the country where everything changed seven years ago. The band didn’t necessarily owe anyone anything, but it just felt… vacuous?
But at the same time, they were still Linkin Park, and they’re still damn good at what they do. 9/10
Written by: James O’Sullivan
