Album Reviews

Why we recommend it:

The idea behind Linkin Park’s latest is honorable. Though lacking in concision, the concept album is nonetheless a genuinely interesting ride.

Best tracks:

“Waiting for the End,” “The Catalyst,” “Robot Boy”

Linkin Park

‘A Thousand Suns’

(Warner Music Korea)

Linkin Park returns after three years for their fourth studio album, not that they’d call it that.

This 15-track release (co-produced by Rick Rubin, who shared duties with vocalist Mike Shinoda) stands steadfast in its proclamation as a concept album, although that innovative notion becomes muddled in this execution of a story of the world.

Inspired by the Hindi phrase made popular by nuclear physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer (“If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one”), the release loosely meanders its way through a pre- and post-apocalyptic landscape of destitute lyrics, political criticism and sound bites.

In an attempt to create music worthy of the term “honest art” the band forgoes public expectation in exchange for universal understanding.

“When They Come for Me” sets the bleak, Armageddon stage with Shinoda’s rap shadowed by tribal rhythm and a chorus of nighttime bonfire dances.

“Robot Boy” combines the faint sweetness of a gospel mantra with Chester Bennington’s distinct husk of a scream playing in the background and “Blackout” works as a steroid to bring the album up to pace.

But the culmination of the group’s efforts might be the halfway-point “Waiting for the End.”

With reggae brushings underlining a Flaming Lips’ booming drum, a tapping piano not unlike the notes of a Battlestar Galactica song, the track becomes a smooth — and surprising — amalgamation of genres while remaining true to Linkin Park’s characteristic blend of nu metal, growing into a natural complexity both pleasing and emotional.

Through the instrumental interludes and one-way homages (“Wretches and Kings” a tribute to Public Enemy), it’s not until the bittersweet conclusion that the purpose of the album rings clear in the juxtaposition of the roughened “The Catalyst” with the clear-voiced and minimalist “The Messenger.”

The album essentially takes listeners on a journey, through the heartbeat of rap and morality of Martin Luther King, Jr., simply to say: “When life leaves us blind/love keeps us kind.”

Which is beautiful and inspiring, but did you need all 15 tracks for that?

— Ines Min