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Linkin Park MC ditches Nu Metal for straight ahead rap with varying results.
More than any other exponent of the short-lived "nu metal" outbreak, Linkin Park embraced the tenants of rap music with whole hearted bravado. Sure, Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst has long tried his hand at rhyming while DJ Lethal cuts the wax in the background, but LP went one better by having not only a DJ, but a full-fledged MC (that would be Mike Shinoda) to offset the caterwauling of their frontman. The group further solidified their rap fetish when they allowed prominent producers from the genre to remix their debut Hybrid Theory and re-dubbed the resulting rap oriented melee Reanimation. The crew would go one better with 2004's Collision Course which featured Jay-Z re-interpreting some LP "classics."
Given their continued gravitation toward the low-end theory, it was only a matter of time before one of the core members temporarily jumped ship and dropped a full-fledged chunk of microphone madness. Not surprisingly that individual was Shinoda, who crafted the Fort Minor alter ego to explore more rap savvy aural expulsions. Like Reanimation before it, Rising Tied features a plethora of guests, many of whom are overlooked underground favorites. Preeminent on this front is Los Angeles crew Styles of Beyond, who have never really gotten their just dues since they first emerged on the scene more than a decade ago. SoB appear on no less than six of the album's 16 tracks. Other guests include Black Thought from the Roots, Common, Celph Titled, Mr. Hahn, Kenna, Jonah Matranga, John Legend, Bobo, and Holly Brook. On paper the sheer amount of guests make it appear as if Mr. Shinoda wasn't too sure of his abilities in reference to carrying an entire album by himself. On the other hand, several of the artists are signed to his Machine Shop Recordings imprint, so the album is doing double work as a launching pad for his stable of signed hype.
Shinoda really doesn't have much to worry about in terms of microphone finesse. Regardless of your feelings about his other band's musical taste, Mr. S. is actually quite nice on the mic. "Remember The Name" exposes the rapper in bright lights, a synthetic pulse augmenting his aggressive flow quite nicely. It's still a bit more rock oriented than pure boulevard grit, but the delivery is fluid and confident. "Right Now" reverberates with the same sense of confidence, but loses something in the mix, coming off a bit removed and distant.
A chunk from the DJ Muggs' playbook of dissonant squiggle is implemented on "Petrified" but then it's injected with a herky-jerky blast pulse of thunder synth bubble. It's simultaneously ominous and cartoonish, bringing to mind a bad retrofit of the classic "Come Clean" beat that Premier laced up for Jeru back in 1994. Shinoda ups the ante a hair for "Feel Like Home," instilling the track with a little warmth and consistency, letting it wrap around his lyrical thrust with symbiotic sheen. It's one of the few tracks that shows him firing on all cylinders, the beats nicely matching the lyrical and vice/versa.
Which brings us to the subject of the production. While not bad, it does tend to be a bit thin, going for a hollowed out mock industrial quality that keeps inline with LP's overall sound. On this front Shinoda loses a few points (he produced and mixed the entire thing himself), forgoing some serious boom bap in favor of more down-tempo, almost depressing sonic expanses. The soundscape from track to track is pretty consistent, with impersonal synth strains floating with detached impersonality over click tracks and syncopated beats. There's some undulating bass throbs buried underneath, but overall the album is lacking any sense of warmness and as a result often feels quite sterile.
Holly Brook adds some vocal beguilement on "Where'd You Go," the only genuine lament on the album. That it's sandwiched next to the throbbing industrial minimalism of "In Stereo" makes for an inconsistent feeling. The latter track is a strange brew, to be sure. It's thuggish and sluggish, simultaneously infectious and revolting, crafting a new hardcore sensibility that borders on funeral dirge surreality. Then the album does another abrupt stylistic shift as it floats into one of the warmest joints included: "Back Home" featuring Common and SoB. Easily the most "traditional" offerings on the album in terms of loop-styled production and heavy bass manipulation, it shows that Shinoda can come with the slinky funk when he feels like it.
"Cigarettes" returns to the detached rift of alienation only to have it joltingly revoked on the bouncy "Believe Me," which is less like a rap song and more like modern rock radio friendly cross-over appeal. It's one of those edgy pop tunes that's hard to ignore. You know the kind where you're jaded brain tells you it's pop smear, but you still find yourself humming along to the catchy melody. It's got TRL written all over it. It's also got some nice bongo and conga percussion attitude from Cypress Hill's Bobo.
Shinoda redeems himself on the stripped down "Get Me Gone," which is nothing more than a faux organ pulse that floats under his rant against the criticisms that have been flung toward LP. It's a short, sharp little ditty. Too bad he doesn't deliver more production of this nature with more regularity throughout the album. "High Road" continues the trend, utilizing some hypnotic piano plinking and catchy chorus crooning from John Legend. This is followed by the interesting "Kenji," a poignant recounting of Shinoda's family history during the U.S. internment of the Japanese during WWII. The rolling bassline that runs through the track creates an ominously funky situation that works well with the seriousness of the lyrics.
"Red To Black" is the obligatory "rock" number on the album. It bleeds into the obligatory "battle" track on the album. Called "The Battle" it's an all-too-brief chunk of live snippet from the infamous underground MC. The album culminates with "Slip Out The Back," which returns everything full circle to the almost atonal, detached sonic sentimentality via a piano loop that seems oddly familiar just as it feels too gothic and foaming with ghostlike industrial minimalism. The track actually makes Shinoda sound sluggish and stiff and doesn't provide the proper type of accompaniment to make him truly shine.
In the end The Rising Tied would have benefited greatly from some outside production. While Shinoda's beats aren't terrible, they too often resonate with a uniform detached sensibility that prevents much of the album from becoming truly funkdafied or boom-bap-a-rific. Shinoda has a solid verbal presence, but it ends up feeling as if he spread himself a little too thin by not only being the main MC and lyricist, but also the producer and mixer to boot. That said there are some genuine moments of surprise and swiftness proving that regardless of his ongoing rock affiliation, Shinoda is a true rap fan and not just some bandwagon buster.
Definitely Download:
1. "Remember The Name"
2. "Feel Like Home"
3. "In Stereo"
4. "Back Home"
5. "Get Me Gone"
6. "High Road"
