Recenzja Meteory w San Francisco Gate

Sophomore albums are tricky propositions: If a band sticks to its breakthrough sound, it might be dismissed as a one-note wonder; if it branches out, it runs the risk of alienating its fans. With "Meteora," Linkin Park wants to have it both ways, and no wonder: There's a lot riding on the Southern California band's much-anticipated follow- up to "Hybrid Theory," the top-selling album of 2001. With its blend of sledgehammering guitars, introspective lyrics and compulsive beats, that CD found Linkin Park definitively merging hard rock and hip-hop into epic theme music for suburban angst.

Paired again with producer Don Gilmore for its new album, the band embellishes the "Hybrid Theory" formula without significantly altering it. "Meteora" sounds like its predecessor's older sibling, propelled by minimalist rapped verses that still slam into huge choruses and lyrics that continue to vent universal frustration -- but with strings, piano and flute adding melodic texture and a hint of new sophistication.

A few songs such as "From the Inside" tread ground that's too flat and familiar, spooning out nu-metal agony like pablum. But most are heavy both sonically and lyrically: "Don't Stay" opens the album with an abrasive shout- out

to individuality; "Hit the Floor" stutters along in choppy metal waves that reflect its theme of alienation. The first single, "Somewhere I Belong," could speak for every kid on the American map with the refrain "I want to heal/ I want to feel/ Like I'm close to something real."

MC Mike Shinoda's raps have moved beyond midtempo chanting to echo the dynamics of vocalist Chester Bennington's roller-coaster screams and croons. The heavy ballad "Easier to Run" blends their voices into a hymn of regret as Shinoda laments, "If I could change I would/ Take back the pain I would/ Retrace every wrong move that I've made I would."

Expanded range and creative curiosity appear in the trip-hop vibe of "Numb" and the backdrop of Japanese flutes that add melodic depth to the hip-hop anthem "Nobody's Listening." "Breaking the Habit" features a 10-piece string section conducted by David Campbell (Beck's father), and "Faint" creates tension by juxtaposing those same sweet strings with a chorus that threatens, "Don't turn your back on me/ I won't be ignored."

The instrumental "Session" spotlights DJ-sampler Joseph Hahn's adept scratching as it skitters across a landscape of sampled sounds and thrumming drum 'n' bass beats. As aurally complex as anything found on a turntablist album, it proves that Linkin Park learned a few tricks during its collaborations with New York's X-Ecutioners crew.

"Meteora" also proves that brevity can be eloquent. Clocking in at less than 37 minutes, the CD manages to make every second count as it blasts in and says its piece with nary a wasted beat or a pause for self-indulgence.

With its compact three-minute anthems geared toward easy radio play, "Meteora" will soothe those alienated by the more abstract experiments of last year's "Reanimation" remix CD. At the same time, it opens a few new horizons to Linkin Park's fan base, injecting something new into nu-metal without abandoning its grumbling familiarity. "Meteora" isn't a leap forward, but at least it's not running in place.

Autor : Neva Chonin