Linkin Park Doesn't Waste Its Hyperactive Energy

Succinct. That's Chester Bennington front and back. For "Wastelands" the newest acid-tongued fireball uncorked from Linkin Park's forthcoming "Hunting Party" release, Bennington is in a place his band's supporters are intimately familiar with. He's on his knees. The hope has been cruelly batted away. The landscape he sees as he looks around does nothing to take the sting out of his soul. Thankfully his artistry is a reliable conduit for the frustration that would tear a lesser creative force to ribbons. Mike Shinoda again brings to this dance his tag team partner rap swag. Chester's open wound wailing combined with Mike's intelligent rap schooling put the Linkinites on the rock map in the first place. Mike slides down his name dropping fire engine pole like a guy who easily knows how to do it with his eyes closed. You'd have to be blind not to recognize the chilling political sentiments coursing through stanza 1. We've got war but where are the weapons. John with no Yoko shows off proper respect for music royalty. "Murder with no killing" turns the trick as an image that wiggles its way into numerous heart saddening bleak situations. Later in the stanza Mike works his mike in the classic defending one's turf bent. "Every rap is made in fact to act as a delayed attack, every phrase a razor blade, and save it 'til they play it back. How did "In The End" log so many frequent flier miles as a top Linkin Park draw both in studio and in concert? That happened for the same reason it's bound to happen due to the electricity generated by this rock rap mixture. Separately Chester and Mike have undeniable gifts and credibility. Together their joint ire could single handedly rip a huge hole in the ozone layer. Key difference is Mike's fury is on low heat whereas Chester lets it fly straight from the jugular. When he claims today's wastelands have nothing to lose you know you've seen at least a segment of the terrain emphasizing he's correct. You shiver because you're aware his rapidly disappearing future shares something with your own. Brad Delson punches his fist through to unforgiving bedrock on the wings of guitar shredding that really turns up the stove's sizzle past the 2 minute mark of this compact 3 minute 10 second testament to what Linkin Park wrote the book on, the rock/rap interplay. You're disturbed by their escalating insanity until you remember these intoxicating gents run the asylum and do so at a controlled burn. Unlike cuts from "Hybrid Theory", otherwise known as the joint that started it all, "Wastelands" doesn't haze your ability to marvel at their musicianship. Translated the emphasis comes less from the amplification and more from the superb self/global awareness the guys toss into every note. Linkin Park's other trademark is dropping you into a world that in the early going doesn't appear to offer a soft landing as its reassuring conclusion. "Crawling" straddles psychosis engagingly. "One Step Closer" proved high rage tantrums can work out for the best if the people giving off the sparks know how to aim their venom. Likewise "Wastelands" starts off leaving you unsteady on your feet, dangling you over the choppy waters until they're ready to plunge you into the undertow. Dave Farrell "Phoenix" pushed the appropriate bass boost buttons. Joe Hahn works the samples library to convincing effect. Drumming it cool as if the criminal mastermind quadrant of his brain had taken over, Rob Bourdon juggles stone cold seriousness with the horse sense not to steal Chester and Mike's unbeatable constantly rolling thunder. Linkin Park does whip up its maniacal signature sound to perfection but shuffles the deck enough so you, I, and anyone else residing in Linkin Park's devoted fanbase won't rest on their laurels thinking we've squeezed all the juice we'll ever get from them. Devoting some oxygen to "Wastelands" isn't a waste of energy. Mike smartens you up. Chester strings you out. That's some one-two punch that sustains your appetite long after everyone's left the banquet hall.