March 13, 2008
Las Vegas CityLife

It was time to finally see what exactly the big deal is with Linkin Park, the one band from the 1998-2002 nu-metal/rap-rock era still enjoying any sort of real success and relevance. And though its success is unquestionable -- multiplatinum sales for all three of its studio albums, multiple number one rock-radio singles from each -- its relevance is surely up for debate.

As the first of two sold-out Joint shows proved, Linkin Park's fans clearly connect with the band's angst-ridden anthems. There didn't seem to be a number on the 18-song set list where the capacity audience wasn't roaring at or singing along with the SoCal sextet, led by poker-faced throat-shredder Chester Bennington and affable multi-instrumentalist/rapper Mike Shinoda.

But what these fans have latched onto remains a mystery. Though the band has shown some growth since its 1998 debut, Hybrid Theory, and its music has evolved, if slightly, into more of a distinctive sound -- hiring producer Rick Rubin for 2007's Minutes to Midnight helped to a small degree -- its creative output remains largely mediocre. On Thursday night, the guitar playing offered no unique sound or approach, relying on power chords typical of the last 15 years of pop metal. The vocals were competent at best, Shinoda hardly comparing to his hip-hop peers in the emceeing department and Bennington bellowing out flat, rote melodies in several of the choruses.

And the lyrics, the weakest element of Linkin Park's music, never attained any sort of emotional or artistic depth due to its trite and frankly adolescent proclamations, the latter shortcoming particularly egregious given that the vocalists are in their 30s. One could argue the songs' generic drama and messages appeal more easily to a wider audience -- that might explain how attending fathers and sons raged and rocked out side-by-side -- but standard-issue alienation with little-to-no specificity or even clear source ring hollow, even when directly hitting the crowd of an intimate club like The Joint. Still, accomplishing that (if often inexplicable) communication to its fans was where Linkin Park most excelled, both sides empowered by the strident nature of the music.

Coheed & Cambria, a metal band with heavy prog-rock influences, attempted nuance and dynamic with keyboards, female backup singers and some impressive fretwork by lead singer/guitarist Claudio Sanchez. But most of their numbers felt clichéd, the band never really fully meshing its Rush tendencies with its Deftones-influenced foundation. And damned if you could discern any of the songs' narratives, for which the band is often praised.

Opener Chiodos played more-of-the-same post-hardcore, singer Craig Owens trying to butch up with growls (and a Charles Bukowski shirt) though otherwise reaching new heights in emo-metal femininity.