Linkin Park
From Zero

“From Zero?

“Yes”

“Like…from nothing?”

This album, heralding the long-awaited yet unexpected comeback of Linkin Park, opens with this intro, wrapped in a choir of harmonious voices. “From Zero”, to start over and to recall, with due resonance, where it all began—from “Xero”, the first formation of Mike Shinoda and Mark Wakefield and the embryonic phase of the definitive project.

Seven years have passed since Chester Bennington's death, and amid the deafening silence of the Agoura Hills band members and the release of a handful of old b-sides titled as new, there was a distinct sense that the story of Linkin Park had reached its end.

Nothing could be more wrong. Mike Shinoda, during the presentation of the new lineup, confessed that he had never abandoned the idea of continuing.

2024 was the year of rebirth, marked by the arrival of Emily Armstrong, the voice of the “Dead Sara”, an underground band unknown to most. With her, drummer (multi-instrumentalist and producer) Colin Brittain filled the void left by Rob Bourdon, who decided not to partake in the new course.

The rest of the lineup remained the same from the beginnings, with Brad Delson absent from the stage (replaced by session musician Alex Feder) but actively involved in the studio and all band activities.

Things were made clear right from the start: no one could ever replace Chester Bennington. Whoever took his place did so on tiptoe, aware of treading through a thick web of distrust.

It's also fair to say that the gamble was objectively won. Emily Armstrong is a charismatic singer with remarkable vocal qualities. She doesn't possess Bennington's power in scream and growl (for obvious reasons) but stands up well to the coherent comparison, winning on points when it comes to melody, where the former frontman did not completely excel.

But let's talk about the album. “From Zero” is everything that loyal old fans hoped to hear and a beautiful new reality for those who never approached the music of the old order.

It's a very cautious yet well-done work. The first single, “The Emptiness Machine”, with its catchy melody, lodged in the brain, provided the coordinates right away, winning over more or less everyone. Shinoda's polished rapping, perfectly matched with Armstrong's roaring voice and accompanied by Brad Delson's quirky riffs, brought us back to the "Meteora" days.

“Cut the Bridge”, which follows, lets us know how recovering the beauty of the past is good and right. Mr. Han, with his cymbals, introduces Brittain's agitated snare, and our minds flash back to the refrains of “Bleed It Out”, 2007, from “Minutes To Midnight”.

The same happens with “Heavy Is The Crown”, one of the most powerful tracks on the setlist, where Emily rages in a frantic scream, through which she tells us how heavy the legacy awaiting her is and the responsibility she bears. There are riffs and electronics of the peak glory period, and a pinch of nostalgia makes the whole thing truly remarkable.

The peak of aggression arrives with “Casualty”, which doesn't even give us time to warm up the engines before exploding. Mike, on this occasion, proposes an aggressive and entirely novel style. In whispered spoken intervals, Emily entirely recalls Jonathan Davis of Korn, while distant scratches mix in, anticipating a diabolical singing akin to Hatebreed.

After so much anger, melody cannot be missed. “Over Each Other” provides an opportunity for the voice to shine completely. The timbre of the new singer is reminiscent of Lzzy Hale from Halestorm, even in the scream. It's no coincidence Hale was among the possible candidates for the new course (her unplugged version of “Crawling”, artfully circulated on the web, was misleading). The singing speaks of the end of a relationship, ruined by the inability to communicate clearly, being too accustomed to “talking over each other”.

The lyrics are beautiful in many parts:

“This is the letter that I didn’t write,

Lookin’ for color in the black and white

Skyscrapers we created on shaky ground

An I’m tryna find my patience”

There's also ample room for Joe Hahn's flair and his synthesizers with “Overflow”. Electronics, sultry vocals, and rhymes blend into a rhythmic and very pleasant amalgam, recalling the order established with “A Thousand Suns”.

“Two Faced” and “IGYEIH” (I Gave You Everything I Had) excite and stir, resurfacing the power of “The Haunting Party” and the classic and evergreen solutions of the immortal “Hybrid Theory”. A particularly evident and entirely new dualism between the voices is felt; there’s a great camaraderie, and Mike Shinoda is called into action much more often than before. It’s in episodes like this that Emily Armstrong fully unleashes herself. She becomes a raging river, sparing no instances of intense hardcore while singing on themes faithful to the past such as malaise, anguish, mental health, building a connection with those who, before her, vented all their frustrations in songwriting for a healing purpose.

The aforementioned harmony is as evident where there is power as where harmony reigns. Contributing to the cause is “Stained”, a radio-friendly track that sticks in your head with its synthetic simplicity and is perfect for the live dimension.

But it’s with “Good Things Go” that the message truly aims to pass through. Appropriately chosen as the closing song, among guitar arpeggios and highly emotional words, Emily cradles the melancholic reflections on the band’s recent experiences, offered by the singing in collaboration with Shinoda:

“Feels like it’s rained in my heart for a hundred days.

Stare in the mirror and I look for another face

And I get so tired of putting out fires and making up lies

Checking my eyes for some kinda light…”

There has been much discussion on whether it’s appropriate to retain the old moniker for the new project. Some have voiced their disappointment and even complained about the presence of a woman behind the microphone. Some even talked about hypothetical desecrations of Chester Bennington's memory (his firstborn included, among others).

I find that all decisions have been made coherently and thoughtfully, based on the premise that in the followers' hearts and an objective reading of reality, Chester Bennington can never be replaced by anyone. Choosing a female figure shelters from much criticism and brings charming, fresh air.

A new name would have nullified any idea of continuity, inappropriately archiving a long history of successes and linking every future stylistic choice to an old book of memories. “Chez definitely would have loved Emily and enthusiastically approved of our choices. He hated gratuitous malice, negativity, and unconstructive criticism”. Thus, Mike Shinoda archived every criticism with a smile.

May this album, therefore, mark the beginning of a new cycle that worthily revives the enthusiasm lost with the final chapter “One More Light” and soothes the melancholy brought on by the loss of one of the most charismatic frontmen of the last thirty years, always keeping his memory alive.

Absolutely worth listening to.