“Nostalgia Canaglia,” sang Al Bano Carrisi and Romina Power almost forty years ago. Not by chance, since music is a master in evoking a sentiment that has always been the trump card of those who make a living from music. Let's be clear, every emotion conveyed by a single song is something to be preserved, regardless of how it was packaged for us.

There are artists who will forever remain mythical, whether they are alive to be celebrated or not. Some remain locked with their songs inside old Juke Boxes never gathering dust, while others occasionally echo in the mainstream lazily replayed by some radio or television. Then there are the myths in the process of being consecrated. Too young, albeit acclaimed, to be untouchable and too loved not to invoke the nostalgia operation mentioned earlier.

“Death Becomes Her,” paraphrasing this time a famous film by Robert Zemeckis, can be another suitable citation for the cause. Because the human mind is often bizarre but is even more so when it comes to pairing death with art. How many times has statistics reminded us that the passing of an artist to the afterlife ultimately fattened a bank account that until then was weeping? Net of the loyal and historical followers who shed tears and are the first to want to consecrate the myth immediately, we find the rest of the world. A world that noticed the artist's life only after his disappearance. It works and will always work that way, with all the pros and cons of the case.

In the era of liquid music, a child of streaming, which is pushing the compact disc towards retirement and giving new youth and a thousand shades of color to vinyl, the work of the major labels becomes even more arduous.

The live dimension for bands becomes the main source of income, while alternative solutions to fill store shelves (and possibly empty them afterward) are aimed at relying more on what has been rather than what will be.

What is happening in this 2024 with the music of Linkin Park, a band orphaned by Chester Bennington since July 2017, perfectly embodies this orientation.

The rich box sets published on the occasion of the twenty-year anniversaries of the multi-awarded “Hybrid Theory” and “Meteora”, within which some unreleased tracks were included to make the celebration even more sumptuous and the success of sales great, stimulated the band to continue with posthumous releases.

Today, “Friendly Fire” is released worldwide, a single extracted from the recording sessions of “One More Light”, the last studio album of the Californian band, dating back to the year of the frontman's disappearance. The posthumous single, written by Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, and Joe Green, will be part of “Papercuts”, the first Greatest Hits that will gather the band's most important singles, published throughout its entire musical journey.

The track was deliberately shelved by Shinoda, with the idea of proposing it in the future, unaware that it would come to light without Chester Bennington being able to sing it again.

“Friendly Fire” carries with it the melodic line of the relevant album; therefore, the riffs are almost completely absent and the imperceptible drumming is accompanied by synth pop sounds.

The strength lies entirely in the lyrics, heartfelt and melancholic, at times poignant, in line with the central theme of “One More Light.” Bennington's emotional voice does the rest, amplified by the recurring thought of the absence of one of the most charismatic frontmen of the last twenty years.

The text tells of a relationship that is crumbling and the sad awareness of having deteriorated it without even remembering why. With a mind clouded by conflicts, we do not realize when the intention to protect those we loved comes less, leading to hurting them. We understand it when it is already too late:

I was supposed to protect you
No matter what's to come
But somehow forgot when they told me
“We hurt the
ones we love”

Hence the concept of “Friendly Fire”: the risk of getting burned, of being hurt or even killed by someone who has always been our ally, faithfully by our side.

At times, and if listened to multiple times, the verses sung by Bennington give the impression of being self-referential. As if they speak of the internal conflicts of the troubled frontman and how one part of him hurt and sentenced the other to death. Along the lines of the words of Queen's “Bohemian Rhapsody,” where Freddie Mercury addressed his mother while telling of the death of Farrokh to the detriment of the birth of Freddie.

The video released alongside the single accompanies all of this with significant images of the band's life in the studio. Chester Bennington is the main protagonist, as is fitting, appearing smiling and passionate as he records the piece, moving from the microphone to the acoustic guitar, while interacting with longtime colleagues and friends.

If we close our eyes for the duration of the piece, exactly three minutes, and immerse ourselves in the atmosphere without too many prejudices or hesitations, we can fully enjoy what the voice wants to convey to us. The result will unite us, whether it is nostalgia or simply a love for music.

Perhaps it is good that Linkin Park decided to gift this piece to their fans only today. Because the true meaning of “One More Light” was grasped by the same fans only after Chester Bennington's death. The alternative sounds, the melancholic vein devoid of any aggressive connotation to balance it, were an explicit plea for help.

Today this voice has a new sound. And Chester lives, one might say.

Tracklist

01   Friendly Fire (00:00)

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