|
Presenting the hardest-working
men in showbiz: Linkin Park? It ain't easy making green, and the band
wants us to know that following up the best-selling debut of the new
millennium is no simple feat. Especially if you're as self-conscious
as this sextet. As someone blurts during a seventeen-minute
documentary on the making of Meteora's artwork -- not to be confused
with the thirty-three-minute documentary on the making of Meteora's
music that comes in the album's special-edition bonus DVD -- "The art
is the making of the art."
That approach is symbolized by
the album's cover photo of graffiti artist Delta clad in a gas mask to
protect him from the toxic fumes of his craft: He's spray-painting in
front of a canvas that he's only begun to fill. It's a scene that
brings to life the essential line from their last album, Reanimation:
"The journey is more important than the end or the start."
Beneath the metal guitar and
the rap rhymes, Linkin Park are an old-fashioned art-rock band (MC
Mike Shinoda and DJ Joseph Hahn met in art school and still consider
themselves visual artists). But rather than drawing inspiration from
classical music or Hobbits as their art-rock forefathers did, Linkin
Park are rooted in contemporary Asia, postmodernism, sample-based
music and anime superheroes. The common denominator between the band
and its antecedents is psychology: Whereas, say, Pink Floyd grappled
with insanity, LP dramatize the conflicts of father and son, man and
woman, or friend and friend -- all from the vantage point of a young
guy struggling for harmony with or separation from an unnamed "you."
Meteora celebrates the
hard-won clarity that comes when getting within screaming distance of
one's demons. "The very worst part of you is me," Chester Bennington
admits in "Lying From You." "Giving up a part of me/I've let myself
become you," he laments during "Figure.09." "All I want to do is
become more like me and less like you," the singer concludes on
"Numb."
Much of Meteora adheres to the
overly familiar rap-rock template Linkin Park fit themselves into for
Hybrid Theory. Yet the band manages to squeeze the last remaining life
out of this nearly extinct formula with volatile performances and
meticulous editing. There's hardly a moment in the album's tightly
compacted thirty-six-and-a-half minutes that doesn't sound assiduously
rehearsed, sampled and Pro Tools tweaked. Drummer Rob Bourdon takes
the greatest instrumental leap; the combination of his intricate
thrashing and the band's improved songwriting makes Meteora more than
yet another remix of its predecessor.
Linkin Park sound most alive
when escaping the constraints of their genre. On "Breaking the Habit,"
guitarist Brad Delson sticks the metal riffs in temporary storage. As
Bennington croons, the band swirls twice as fast around him while
strings swell and drums bolt. Although the song's anguished grandeur
is rooted in the band's New Wave influences, the result bears little
resemblance to the past or present. This suits Linkin Park's futurist
vibe and lives up to the promise of Meteora's lavish packaging. Much
of the album is just excellent craft; on "Breaking the Habit," Linkin
Park make some risky, beautiful art.
- by Barry Walters, Rolling Stone |
