The boy band, nu metal style
Linkin Park/Deftones
Manchester Apollo
Rating **
Monday March 26 2001
By Dave Simpson
We are in the grip of an epidemic. The spread of nu metal has resulted in an outbreak of bad tattoos and mutant hair. The audience at Manchester Apollo looks like the cast of Bad Girls (and that's just the boys), only more miserable.
The US outfit Linkin Park are nu metal's first boy band. These five eager young men would be squeaky clean if one of them didn't have a mohican. With their unnervingly predictable blend of Limp Bizkit and Eminem, they are almost entirely nondescript. However, someone has obviously decided that, never mind the fashionably doom-laden lyrics ("So insecure. Wooargh!") and the uniformly hideous clothing, nu metal needs some dance steps. Thus, the Park go through their best choreographed moves while the girl next to me takes photographs. Some people scream. So do I.
For kings of nu metal, the Deftones are surprisingly old. Gnarled in appearance, they sound like Black Sabbath fronted by a vagrant. I rather like them, compared with Linkin Park. Unfortunately - or encouragingly, depending on your preferences - the Deftones's anvil-heavy anthems are undermined by Moreno's tendency to perform with his trousers falling down. He sings about corpses. I visualise white Y-fronts.
As the set progresses, becoming more atmospheric - almost Gary Numan, and more ballady than metal - I wonder if perhaps there is something more to this than a mass-marketed soundtrack to cosmetic rebellion. In front of me, two teenage boys shake their heads so wildly they seem to be reaching a state of existential ecstasy. It is a wonderful, powerful moment. Then they stop to do their hair.
Linkin Park : London Brixton Academy
Jun 5, 2001
The line between pop and nu-metal blurs further, as Linkin Park hit London...
It's easy to see nu-metal as a reaction against the dominance of manufactured pop music. But really, it's not that simple any more. At least, not with Linkin Park on the scene.
These well-scrubbed Californians have been compared to the Backstreet Boys, and it's not hard to see why. For tonight, their set is clinical and efficient beyond a boyband's wildest dreams. They start with album tracks and finish with crowd-pleasers - and in between, we get an unfaltering series of huge, anthemic choruses, each one echoed by the predominantly teenage audience. In the spotlight, rapper Mike Shinoda plays the affable court jester to Chester Bennington's hunched psychopath. In the shadows, backing tapes ensure that we don't have to suffer any bum notes.
But while it may be stage-managed with an unnerving attention to detail, this is also a top night out. Linkin Park, you see, have written a bunch of songs that assimilate much of the best American angst-rock of the last decade. 'One Step Closer' boasts a petulant slogan to rival Rage Against The Machine: "Shut up when I'm talking to you", roars Bennington, over and over, in a primal howl. 'Crawling' mimics the white-knuckle rage of prime Alice In Chains, while 'A Place For My Head' and 'Points Of Authority' take their cue from Faith No More's 'Angel Dust': they never quite shake off their pop sensibilities though, no matter how angry they get.
Ultimately, tonight proves that while nu-metal bands are as unashamedly populist as the teenpoppers they affect to despise, their brand of teenage angst is at least preferable to the bloated excesses that characterised American rock of the late '90s (think Nine Inch Nails or Smashing Pumpkins). The boundary between nu-metal and manufactured pop is blurring. But on tonight's evidence, that might not be such a bad thing.
Niall O'Keefe
Linkin Park : Manchester Apollo
Sep 25, 2001
The time is now, the kids are alright, but Linkin Park's spirit is somewhere else entirely...
The day after this gig, the Linkin Park tour moves to the 15,000 capacity London Arena, indelibly date-stamping their arrival at The Big Time. Their album, 'Hybrid Theory' has sold 400,000 copies in the UK alone and their imminent single, 'In The End', should be their first top ten hit.
One look at the Manchester Apollo audience and it's obvious why Linkin Park's audience is expanding so rapidly - they're so young they're practically still being born. There are literally girls of six waving their arms unsteadily to 'Crawling' from their perch on their dads' shoulders (the dads are wearing Deftones t-shirts). A couple of ten-year-olds swamped in baggy jeans and hoodies pipe "thanks!" as their uncle passes them Cokes from the bar. In fact, the pre-pubescent contingent is so massive that NME finds ourselves wishing that Linkin Park's Chester Bennington wouldn't swear so much between songs - young ears!
It seems that Linkin Park are the metal equivalent of the trainer bra. And there is, of course, absolutely nothing wrong with that - pop is for, after all, The Kids. But it doesn't make for a very thrilling night out. While there's no doubting the effect Linkin Park's slick rap-metal roadshow is having on large parts of the audience - there are girls, eyes closed, singing along to every word, absolutely transported - it seem every bit as antiseptic as a traditional teen pop show.
And that's not to drag out the ridiculous argument/conspiracy theory that Linkin Park are too young and pretty to make Real Men's music and therefore must have been constructed by some wicked svengali. It's just to point out that Joseph Hahn, the DJ, is embarrassingly surplus to any requirements other than fashion; that the bassist, Phoenix, and guitarist Brad Delson are so resolutely ignored by the spotlight that they might as well not be onstage at all; and that when Chester Bennington claims that "Manchester is the best fucking place on the whole fucking tour" you don't believe a bloody word of it.
There are upsides to this more yout' friendly approach - no-one is in danger of getting killed in the moshpit, thanks to Chester impressing on the crowd the call-and-response chant "If they fall - pick them up!" There's also something very sweet about the crowd putting their hands up when Chester enquires "anyone heard that before?" after 'A Place For My Head'.
And Linkin Park are tight alright - thanks to craftily used samples, every song sounds almost exactly like the record. 'Points' is a glossy stormer which almost provokes some genuine mayhem, the Depeche Mode-alike 'Step Up' proves their vesatility, and in 'Crawling', 'Pushing Me Away', 'Paper Cut' and the final 'One Step Closer'Linkin Park have songs encrusted with devilishly clever details yet charged with undeniable power - you only need to hear the crowd bellowing 'SO INSECURE!!!!' before the chorus of 'Crawling' to realise that. And Chester is the metal Justin Timberlake - he even does the human beatbox thing like *NSYNC at the end of 'Pop'! Which is another good thing.
Yet for all their ruthless professionalism, the band seem distracted (this is, it must be said, only four days after the World Trade Center attack). Even when they're joined onstage by Wes Scantlin from a Puddle Of Mudd at the climax, the show never really takes off. The time is now, the kids are alright, but Linkin Park's spirit is somewhere else entirely.
Alex Needham