Linkin Park No More?
“Shadow of the Day”, a four and a half minute track off of one of Linkin Park’s more recent albums, starts with a crooning lead singer (Chester Bennington). He sings gently, as if settling down to bring on the sunset with his voice. Featuring minimalist electronic drums and a slow heartbeat of a bass line, the song sits outside at the end of a long day and reflects on an entire life. It is less a song than a lamentation, a retrospective on a life short-lived. Minutes to Midnight is an album full of softer singing and 4- count drum beats, signaling the generic rock sound of the music.
That the tracks sound like typical radio rock tunes is the point. Minutes to Midnight is a sunset soundtrack, an album to which the day ends as opposed to grimy, loud, high energy events which occur after the clock actually strikes twelve. It is certainly a departure from the patented rap-rock formula that graced every song on Hybrid Theory, or the intense throaty growl that carried through Meteora. Much of Midnight’s sound is symbolic of the shift to the types of songs that end up on movie soundtracks, particularly those of the later Transformers films. That the music reflects the band’s shift to mainstream attention and what is expected of a popular rock band makes it less satisfying. Most of the songs, including singles “Leave Out All the Rest” and “What I’ve Done” are perfectly radio acceptable, but not nearly as genre bending as their earlier “Pts.Of.Athrty” or even “Breaking the Habit” (which was a bit more radio acceptable — for a hard, punk leaning single). The singles have guitar and drum crescendos that sweep in and out of the song as they build, only to end just when it seems like the song is starting to go somewhere.
The biggest problem is that the album sets the expectation that it will continue in the same vein as the two that came before it: the instrumental “Wake” is a spooky welcoming that builds beautifully, setting up the album as a sort of countdown to the end of the day, as the title suggests. “Given Up” is three minutes of riotous, head banging fun that further perpetuates the band's beloved edge. From there the grit seems to dwindle, growing softer and more afternoon airwave-friendly as the album progresses. Only “Bleed It Out” brings back the in-your-face, moshing rap-rock that makes me think the album is taking a turn back towards the good stuff. This was not the case. Upon first coming out Linkin Park made waves by being the boys who did what they wanted, defying genre labels and being the mix of hardened rock and grimy hip hop that we didn’t know we needed, but craved the more we shared the albums around. But once the band really hit their stride in the mainstream, the edges softened.
So it’s disappointing to see the glimpses of what I fell in love with mired in the need to earn radio plays. How much better would “What I’ve Done” sound with a little more growl and a Mike Shinoda rap verse? How much more of an anti-war anthem could “Hands Held High” have been with deeper vocals, more frustration and an actual finish? In the end, does it even matter when this is the mark of Linkin Park’s turning into the regular rock band? I can only hang onto the hope that maybe the albums to come will continue to let glimpses shine through of what once was.
That the tracks sound like typical radio rock tunes is the point. Minutes to Midnight is a sunset soundtrack, an album to which the day ends as opposed to grimy, loud, high energy events which occur after the clock actually strikes twelve. It is certainly a departure from the patented rap-rock formula that graced every song on Hybrid Theory, or the intense throaty growl that carried through Meteora. Much of Midnight’s sound is symbolic of the shift to the types of songs that end up on movie soundtracks, particularly those of the later Transformers films. That the music reflects the band’s shift to mainstream attention and what is expected of a popular rock band makes it less satisfying. Most of the songs, including singles “Leave Out All the Rest” and “What I’ve Done” are perfectly radio acceptable, but not nearly as genre bending as their earlier “Pts.Of.Athrty” or even “Breaking the Habit” (which was a bit more radio acceptable — for a hard, punk leaning single). The singles have guitar and drum crescendos that sweep in and out of the song as they build, only to end just when it seems like the song is starting to go somewhere.
The biggest problem is that the album sets the expectation that it will continue in the same vein as the two that came before it: the instrumental “Wake” is a spooky welcoming that builds beautifully, setting up the album as a sort of countdown to the end of the day, as the title suggests. “Given Up” is three minutes of riotous, head banging fun that further perpetuates the band's beloved edge. From there the grit seems to dwindle, growing softer and more afternoon airwave-friendly as the album progresses. Only “Bleed It Out” brings back the in-your-face, moshing rap-rock that makes me think the album is taking a turn back towards the good stuff. This was not the case. Upon first coming out Linkin Park made waves by being the boys who did what they wanted, defying genre labels and being the mix of hardened rock and grimy hip hop that we didn’t know we needed, but craved the more we shared the albums around. But once the band really hit their stride in the mainstream, the edges softened.
So it’s disappointing to see the glimpses of what I fell in love with mired in the need to earn radio plays. How much better would “What I’ve Done” sound with a little more growl and a Mike Shinoda rap verse? How much more of an anti-war anthem could “Hands Held High” have been with deeper vocals, more frustration and an actual finish? In the end, does it even matter when this is the mark of Linkin Park’s turning into the regular rock band? I can only hang onto the hope that maybe the albums to come will continue to let glimpses shine through of what once was.
Jasmine Penny