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Rating: Music has many virtues, but the greatest is its ability to always win the battle against time. And time, as we know, is ruthless and cannot be overcome if one is unprepared. Years pass, people and tastes change, but music—it's forever. It seems like a trivial and effective catchphrase, but it's the essence of everything.
Chester Charles Bennington fought all his life with time, trying to make it more tolerable while keeping at bay the demons and the tidal wave of success.
A nurse mother, a police officer father who fought daily against child abuse, and two siblings. An apparently happy family, then the divorce, the children first entrusted to one parent and then to the other, and the total loss of references. Drugs of all types and colors, rivers of alcohol, and six years of sexual abuse perpetrated by a peer, who in turn was abused by his father. Chester did not report it, even though his father could have helped him from the start, protecting him and keeping his secret and fears.
All this weight on his shoulders at just thirteen years old. A long passage through hell, from childhood to adolescence, together with bullying, beatings, and a lack of desire to make sense of one's existence.
There were poems, drawings, and songs. A safe and stimulating refuge when the high became too much. There was music, and with it the images it evoked—an irrepressible passion always present in the darkest moments. All as a lifeline. Chester, among others, adored the Stone Temple Pilots, and by wearing out those cassettes through repeated listens, he dreamed of one day being part of Scott Weiland's band. Little did he know that in a not too distant future, he would even take Scott's vacant place, little Chester.
In 1993, starting from a small room in a house in Arizona, with a handful of ideas in hand, Sean Dowdell convinced his friend to get serious. "Sean Dowdell and His Friends?" would be the name given to the duo but also to the raw three-track EP, released almost for fun. The prelude to the dream, the raft for Neverland. While violence and turmoil suffocated the mind and fears wove a dense and resistant web, music tried to act as an anesthetic.
Self-esteem grew in parallel with the awareness of one's abilities. Those vocal cords had become the most suitable means to vent frustration and give sound to anger. A way to shout unrestrainedly to the world the deep inner discomfort of an already heralded rising star.
The three tracks became a demo, and the duo became a band, the "Grey Daze," with the arrival of Jason Barnes on guitar and Jonathan Krause on bass. Then, they started getting serious, with a first album "Wake Me" in 1994 and then a second and final one, "...No Sun Today", in 1997. That first injection of fame was not enough; the demons began to present the bill.
Amid vagrancy and expedients, the dream risked being sucked into an empty spiral. It was Jeffrey Blue, vice-president A&R at Zomba Music and valuable supervisor, who prevented this from happening. It all went through an audition and a missed birthday party. Xero were looking for a voice to accompany that of Master of Ceremonies Mike Shinoda. Jeff Blue played a part, Xero became Linkin Park, and what happened next has long been consigned to history.
With "Hybrid Theory", the first official full-length and to date the best-selling album of the century in which it was born, total consecration came. The twelve tracks encapsulate Chester's entire life experience up to that point. Twenty-four years lived in the throes of frustration generated by obsessive memories, among drug abuse and a constant and uninterrupted inner battle. The immediate and unexpected success was also, and above all, thanks to those screamed lyrics, those melodies that seemed to want to soothe the anguish of an already very tired soul.
In the years when that strange musical subgenre, made of metal and rhymes, approached overdrive yet gave its best without asking too many questions, a twenty-year-old found his safe place in the world. A corner of paradise obligatorily shared with hell, like in a bizarre and anomalous Dantean circle.
Seven successful albums, three more with the two parallel projects (Dead by Sunrise and Grey Daze), a brief stint with the beloved Stone Temple Pilots and an EP with them, dozens of collaborations, and accolades that brought the fragile and frail boy from Phoenix into the hearts and mouths of everyone.
This was success for Chester Charles Bennington. Not a cage but a gilded prison, made of thick, shiny, and smooth bars, from which he could escape from time to time. An illusion of freedom, accompanied by the genuine love given and received from the members of his large family, who awaited him at home but also in the recording studio. But also a fantastic journey, albeit brief, in the company of millions of fans around the world and their affection. All always present and ready to acclaim him, united in a single chorus during the concerts of his Linkin Park. Like in that damned summer of 2017, the one that ultimately took him away, right after his brotherly friend Chris Cornell. The images are still vivid. That snapshot, consigned to eternity, was taken during the Italian date of the One More Light Tour. The hands of those present supporting their idol, creating an intense connection and thousands of voices wrapped in a starlit sky, for an atmosphere that gave chills. The notes of the song that gave the title to the last album, providing a backdrop for lyrics not much considered until their real meaning surfaced.
A final plunge into the crowd, a final farewell, no longer a cry for help.
Another light. And another one. Like the one that turned off before our eyes but will remain lit for eternity in our hearts.
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