USA Today
Muscular reinvention
When Meteora arrived with meteoric force in 2003, hitting No. 1 after opening-week sales of 810,000 copies, Linkin Park seemed to have a lock on a winning formula. Even then, the band may have foreseen the waning tenability of rap-rock, a cocky but cockeyed hybrid that reached its commercial peak with Limp Bizkit’s baffling million-selling week in 2000.
On its third studio album, the band abandons nu-metal for a mid-career rock reinvention that entails more appropriation than originality. Raw, dense and intense, Minutes to Midnight has plenty of muscle and attitude, but there’s little fresh or dangerous in Linkin’s sonic tool chest, and in some respects, the band comes across as a late arrival to the emo party, especially in such mopey interludes as Valentine’s Day.
Singer Chester Bennington, who seesaws between a blistering wail and a whispery croon, dominates the vocals, while rapper Mike Shinoda retreats to share production duties with Rick Rubin, cropping up only periodically to spit out rhymes, most effectively on feisty beast Bleed It Out, a fine nod to the band’s old sound. The new sound is fairly old too. Paint-peeling guitar sizzle, threads of electronica, metallic thump — it’s all been done. Shadow of the Day is a solid rock anthem, yet hardly rises to the U2 stratum it aims for. And the craft and catchiness of What I’ve Done might be more impressive if its synth lines weren’t swiped from the Halloween theme. Power surges, emotional fervor and newly nuanced songwriting skills keep Midnight sparking. There’s no new wheel here. Just another spin.