Linkin Park: they invented the remix! Well, not exactly
-- these gazillion-selling L.A. hoodie rockers didn't invent
the idea of a rap-metal band dabbling in hip-hop remixes
any more than Puffy invented marketing, Martha Stewart invented
insider trading or Shakira invented the midriff. But Linkin
Park's remix album is something new, just because they're
the biggest band ever to try this shit, with the best-selling
album of 2001, Hybrid
Theory, still riding high on the charts and the radio.
Nobody ever accused them of having the most original sound
around, but what sets them apart is how they shape all their
heavy influences into something fresh and tuneful. Brad
Delson's flash guitar, Mike Shinoda's low-key rapping and
Chester Bennington's Freddie Mercury-has-risen-from-the-grave
vocals fuse into intensely emotional songs of teen angst.
"In the End," their biggest and best hit, is really
the flip side of Limp Bizkit's "Nookie," a breakup
song from an embattled young dude who finds out the hard
way that nice guys have girl troubles, too, just like the
Fred Dursts of the world. Musically and lyrically, "In
the End" sums up everything that makes Linkin Park
stand out so far ahead of the pack.
On Reanimation,
Linkin Park rework their music from the inside out. Shinoda
is the mastermind here, overseeing the project (along with
Linkin Park DJ Joseph "Chairman" Hahn) to turn
down the rock vocals, de-emphasize the riffs and cut a host
of illustrious underground hip-hop names in on the action.
It's not so much an album as it is a capital-P Project,
the kind of record that rock stars make when they get caught
short of new material between albums. For a young band coming
off a blockbuster debut, a Project lets it recuperate and
stall for time, but it also allows it to (1) prove that
the group is, like, so totally still down creatively, and
(2) clock some serious next-album dollars before actually
having to write next-album songs. In the past, bands have
usually gone for live or unplugged records. But Linkin Park
have opened the remix-project door in a calculating but
earnest effort to establish their underground hip-hop art
cred: Reanimation is basically the Pro Tools era's answer
to GN'R Lies.
Shinoda has recruited some impeccably pedigreed collaborators,
including underground hip-hop producers Kutmasta Kurt, Alchemist,
Cheapshot, X-ecutioners, Dilated Peoples' Evidence and the
excellently named Jewbacca. Guest vocalists include rockers
such as Korn's Jonathan Davis and Staind's Aaron Lewis,
as well as indie rappers including Aceyalone, Rasco, Planet
Asia and Jurassic 5's Chali 2na. "High Voltage"
is easily the best thing here, as well as one of the only
tracks not previously heard on Hybrid Theory; originally
a headbanging rocker from an EP by the band, "High
Voltage" becomes a vehicle for the maniacally ranting
Rawkus rapper Pharoahe Monch. Shinoda himself remixes "Pushing
Me Away" and "By Myself" (featuring Deftones'
Steph Carpenter on guitar), while Hahn tackles "Without
You" and "Cure for the Itch." And Kutmasta
Kurt opens up a sixer of whup-ass on "In the End,"
speeding up the original vocal chorus into Tweety Bird territory
and bringing in rapper Motion Man. It's nowhere near as
punchy as the original, but you have to admit it's pretty
fucking strange.
Reanimation definitely goes overboard on the atmospherics:
Without the high-resolution hooks and guitar-rock crunch
of Hybrid Theory, the tracks tend to blur together in unflattering
patterns. Most of the avant-feeble rapping on the album
is underground --not in the sense of "too radical for
the mainstream" but in the sense of "you can dress
it up, but you can't take it out." Some of the remixes
weaken the original (the Humble Brothers' "One Step
Closer"); others make a lame song even worse (Zion
I's "Place for My Head"). Still, there's something
winningly sincere about how much ingenuous hard work went
into Reanimation, and not just getting people on the phone:
Shinoda segues all twenty tracks together, opening and closing
with a horror-movie violin motif, mixing in voice-mail messages,
piano interludes and other production gimmicks until the
whole album flows into a sixty-one-minute suite for comfortably
numb dudes and their headphones. The music isn't exactly
groundbreaking, and none of the remixes improve on the Hybrid
Theory originals, but the boyish energy of Reanimation has
its own appeal, and it's not too far emotionally from the
tried-so-hard spirit of "In the End." Commercially
expedient though it may be, it's also a labor of love.
- by Rob Sheffield, Rolling Stone