The alt-rock group is back, packing in arenas after making a radical creative decision
E-A-G-L-E-S, EAGLES! The chant was led by the football team’s mascot, Swoop, and took the Philly crowd into a blackout right on cue. But this wasn’t an Eagles game.
This was Linkin Park. The group brought their From Zero tour to the soon-to-be-called Xfinity Mobile Arena (it’s still technically the Wells Fargo Center until September, but the rebrand is in full force). The nü-metal mainstreamers packed them in on Saturday (Aug 16th).
From Zero is also the name of LP’s new LP. And in many ways, it’s also a two-word motto for where the band is now. After the shocking death of Linkin Park’s longtime voice, Chester Bennington, they spent eight years on hiatus. Now back with new lead singer Emily Armstrong, Linkin Park chose what can best be described as a rebrand. Rather than choose a sound-alike—ala Journey plucking Arnel Pineda from relative obscurity to match Steve Perry’s tone—LP made a fresh creative choice.
Armstrong meets the challenge of Linkin Park’s music exceptionally well. Her voice may not sound like Bennington, but the power in the songs is the gravitas with which they’re performed—something Armstrong has in spades. Pair that energy with a wailing voice fueled by a high register and backed with the required emotion, and Armstrong delivers a magical reinterpretation of the LP catalogue.
Mike Shinoda’s rap vocals over the band’s infectious beats sound identical to the now quarter-century-old albums. His bars are the needed echo of the past that blends with Armstrong’s position as the future of LP. This was immediately clear on “Somewhere I Belong” and “Points of Authority.”
Armstrong showcased her chops on “New Divide,” wowing the crowd with soaring vocals that were more melodic than the previous numbers. Also, a standout for Armstrong was “Waiting for the End.” And when she goes full screamo mode? Forget it. Your brain will be fried. Her range is truly breathtaking.
Shinoda stood out on the performance of “Lies, Greed, Misery,” his bars still creating earworms decades later. He also spent some time at the barricade and even gave a kid a Linkin Park hat signed by the whole band. Then, starting out solo, he launched into a cover of “Remember the Name” as he ran around smacking hands, ending up at the keyboard on stage.
Linkin Park put their rig smack at center ice, with fans standing all around the extra-long staging. Two LED boxes hung above, with lasers and smoke blasting every so often. Their light show was an aggressive flash-bang with a speed that seemed to exceed even the fastest beats per minute all night long. They’re hard, they’re punk, and Linkin Park wants you to know it.
Speaking of loud: “Numb” and “In the End” saw the audience send themselves into a thundering tizzy. For the graying millennials closer in age to Gen X than Gen Z—but still young enough to claim to be in their “youth.” This is their formative music from middle and high school. I’m still a bit younger than most, and even I remember when the opening notes of “In the End” were the default AIM sign-on music. (If you don’t remember AIM, it was like Discord if Discord required you to tie up your parents’ landline. If you don’t know what a landline is, society has failed you.)
So if they’re starting “from zero,” how did Linkin Park fill up an NHL arena? It’s simple: When you’ve sold 100 million records, the music does most of the work. It holds meaning, and when music holds meaning for its fans, they’re more than willing to trust that what the band who *made* that meaningful music decides to do. Are there people who will never see LP with Emily Armstrong? Sure. But it’s clear from Philly that they aren’t the fans that sustain this band. In the End, “nothing really matters,” except the music.
