Linkin Park review, O2 Arena London: Chester Bennington would approve of this ferocious new era

Controversial new frontwoman Emily Armstrong is respectful of the band’s legacy as she roars her way into the hearts of fans

Mark Beaumont
Wednesday 25 September 2024 09:00 BST
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(Luke Dyson @lukedyson)

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As metal thunder chords strafe the O2 and laser lightning strikes the centre of an in-the-round stage stretching the length of the arena floor, all augurs a dramatic and fearless arrival from the newly reunited Linkin Park. Yet the band hit London unexpectedly on the back foot. In the weeks approaching the comeback of this 100-million-selling rap rock behemoth, both the mother and son of their iconic former frontman Chester Bennington objected publicly to the manner of their return seven years after his suicide.

They cited a sense of betrayal on the part of band leader Mike Shinoda for not seeking their approval before putting Bennington’s confessional songs of open-hearted anguish, struggle and empathy into the hands of their chosen replacement: Emily Armstrong of cult LA rockers Dead Sara. Armstrong had previously shown support for That 70s Show actor Danny Masterson during his rape trial, for which she’s since declared genuine regret. Now, any musician replacing a much-loved and sorely missed frontman will have a lot of easing in to do, and even more to prove. But Linkin Park’s entrance tonight, more than most, has the scent of tentative try-out rather than instant triumph.

“The fact that you guys have been in our corner with this new stuff is huge,” Shinoda thanks the crowd, and Armstrong arrives knowing she’s still, to some degree, mid-audition. The music – crunching, melodic industrial rap metal that’s heavier than Hungary and more heroic than Ukraine – demands she throw herself in hard. But, pacing the length of the stage taking Bennington’s vocals alongside Shinoda’s raps, she doesn’t try to dominate the show or force herself on our affections, instead choosing to play the respectful foil.

When Armstrong opens her mouth, it’s easy to see why she’s here: her voice is sugar and grit, sidestepping any lurch the band might have faced into their new pop rock with a softer singer. And when she first crouches at the skirt of the stage and unleashes her full guttural roar on “Lying From You”, it’s clear this is no revisionist Linkin Park rewrite. This is a ferocious new era.

When Armstrong tackles some of Bennington’s most intimate and exposed lyrics – bawling “put me out of my misery!” on a brutal “Given Up” or crooning “the pain is all I know” during an acoustic mid-set “Lost” – it’s not her pain and misery she’s singing. But she carries Bennington’s haunting emotions, these self-flagellating inner turmoils and cries for help, with a certain reverence and a passionate understanding. Elsewhere, there are lyrics that resonate with her situation too: “I don’t know what you’re expecting of me, put under the pressure of walking in your shoes,” she sings on their archetypal billow-rock hit “Numb”. “It’s hard to let you go,” she emotes, for everyone present, amid the infectious pop groove of “Waiting for the End”.

It’s the new material from forthcoming album FROM ZERO that Armstrong really owns, though. Punchy and dynamic songs that more than hold their own alongside vital and urgent classics like “Papercut”, “One Step Closer” and the tech-rock hammer-fall of “In the End”. “I only wanted to be part of something, I let you cut me open just to watch me bleed,” she howls on recent single “The Emptiness Machine”. She screams herself flat on her back at the climax of “Heavy Is the Crown” released hours earlier.

By now the O2 is chanting her name and, besides a fittingly mournful “My December”, an overlong pause to push the drum riser to the other side of the stage and a touch too much of mid-paced bombast in the final hour (“Leave Out All the Rest” should have taken its own advice), Linkin Park are charging on to comeback glory. Shinoda indulges in a solo noir rave segment; mosh pits multiply to a party metal “Faint”; and Armstrong ventures out to the barriers and leaps off the bass drum during a pounding and powerful “Bleed It Out”.

“Playing shows in London? Hell yeah!” Shinoda cries, one step closer to reunion redemption. It’s tough to see how Bennington wouldn’t have approved.

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