Herald rating: * *
(Warner Bros)
Review: Russell Baillie
Whatever passes for market forces in our album charts has deemed that Linkin Park are the new rock flavour of the month.
The album by the southern California five-piece with a vocal tag team of a singer named Chester and a rapper has crept into
the top 10. Undoubtedly they're a godsend to modern rock radio requiring a fresh set of rowdy hooks.
Although this debut album might come on like a more sensitive Limp Bizkit (look Ma, no swearing) with its rap-rock attack, it also reminds of some times gone by. Specifically, what an odd legacy 80s synth-pop has left more than a decade later - from the needle-in-the-red aggro of Nine Inch Nails to the wistful pop wimpishness of Savage Garden.
On the aptly named Hybrid Theory, Linkin Park fall into a middle ground between both extremes, then add rap and pristine production. Which makes it very paint-by-numbers.
Something apparent in the interchangeable songs is a soon-familiar pattern - Chester croons over atmospheric synths only to find hard guitars and rapper making life difficult in the chorus. As well, Linkin Park's lyrics are desperate to show how gosh darn dysfunctional life can be.
Not only are Chester and rapper Shinoda expressing uneasiness ("It's like I'm paranoid, looking over my back" - Papercut), they're but a single stride away from the precipice ("I'm one step closer to the edge" - One Step Closer) and they're missing that special someone ("Even though you're so close to me, you're still so distant and I can't bring you back" - With You).
Yes, some tracks do pack an instant-anthem wallop, such as the call and response One Step Closer, or the Michael Jackson-fronts-NIN Runaway. However, Hybrid Theory still suffers that practical drawback: it's just inoffensively dull.
