Though I don't want to admit it, I've been thinking a lot about Chester Bennington and Linkin Park in the last few days. Honestly, I haven't followed the band since Meteora. I think I gave the next album a listen and I don't remember it's name, nor do I care to look it up, but I remembered it was bland and didn't have the fire of their previous efforts. Some time after, they did a song for the Transformers soundtrack and became a laughing stock.
Before all of that though, I loved this band. They were what I could follow when Korn was taking forever to release a follow up to Issues and when they did, it sucked so hard. My father took me and my siblings to see Linkin Park at Cobo Hall, Detroit where I got to see them from a balcony. Adema opened and Cypress Hill was there too. At that point in time they hadn't even released Meteora yet, but I think they were working on it. They played off album cuts like My December and High Voltage which I bought as four track single on cd just to have even if it was a ripoff. My siblings and I used to scavenge download sites for demo's and outtakes which I'd burn to a cd and listen to. One of them I remember was named Carousel. I'd find songs from Chester's time in some obscure band called Grey Daze and I admit I enjoyed What's In The Eye a lot even though it sounded nothing like Linkin Park. I remember a live song that was something like Wake Me In The Morning After, a couple years ago my friend had Underworld, or was it Gothica? on and it had that song on the end credits.
I'd still say Hybrid Theory was their best effort. They had limited budget and time making that album and I liked it more than Meteora, which was their last good effort from what I've listened to since. Reanimation may be one of the best remix albums I've ever owned.
It's hard to say what drove me towards their music. Part of it had to with the sound collages maybe the depression and angst spoke more to me than I care to admit. I'd always tell my rational mind that I don't hear voices in my head, or that I don't have mental issues outside of learning disabilities. That the artists I listened to felt real pain and I don't. Of course that's bullshit, but it's been my long coping mechanism to deny anything wrong with me and think I'm okay. I'm not saying that I've never had suicidal thoughts, but that I mask it as a wish I was never born sentiment because you don't admit you'd be selfish enough to leave your loved ones behind after how many years and resources they poured into you, but unexisting is okay because they'd be none the wiser and had never spent the money and hardship ensuring your continual existence. So even if I theoretically thought I should go off myself, my anxiety would get in the way of doing it. Admitting that I've thought this out loud makes me real antsy because we don't talk about these notions.
We live in a society that treats suicide as the ultimate taboo. You don't admit to that train of thought, or sympathy towards those who take it further. You just don't. It's considered cowardly, selfish, sinful and we don't talk about it except to scorn the dead and move on, while continuing to curse their name if brought up. It's why I think adapting Thirteen Reasons Why was a stupid move. You can't tell that story because the answer's always, suicide's bad. There's nothing interesting, or though provoking you can do with the subject because of it's limitations. It has none of the complexity and grey areas as taking another life.
One thing that keeps ringing through my mind from my time on Tumblr. There's so many posts that try to assure us that we don't owe others our emotional welfare, our bodies, our existence, but doesn't the taboo against suicide say otherwise? Perhaps I'm making some fallacy here, but the argument against suicide always boils down to the people dependent on you that you screwed over offing yourself. You screwed them of financial support, of emotional welfare, of love, and showers of hugs and kisses, consultation, conversations and experiences. It always boils down to that.
At the end of the day I have no judgement on Chester Bennington, or his fans, or naysayers, but everybody else I know will. I know if it had been a drug overdose this would have been more divisive than what it is. We're not supposed to say he's no longer suffering. We're supposed to say he's burning in hell for what he did to his family, and what he did against perceived spiritual intentions.
In the end it doesn't even matter anymore. His family's opinions about this matter more than our collective experience as fans, moralizing naysayers and trolls.
Before all of that though, I loved this band. They were what I could follow when Korn was taking forever to release a follow up to Issues and when they did, it sucked so hard. My father took me and my siblings to see Linkin Park at Cobo Hall, Detroit where I got to see them from a balcony. Adema opened and Cypress Hill was there too. At that point in time they hadn't even released Meteora yet, but I think they were working on it. They played off album cuts like My December and High Voltage which I bought as four track single on cd just to have even if it was a ripoff. My siblings and I used to scavenge download sites for demo's and outtakes which I'd burn to a cd and listen to. One of them I remember was named Carousel. I'd find songs from Chester's time in some obscure band called Grey Daze and I admit I enjoyed What's In The Eye a lot even though it sounded nothing like Linkin Park. I remember a live song that was something like Wake Me In The Morning After, a couple years ago my friend had Underworld, or was it Gothica? on and it had that song on the end credits.
I'd still say Hybrid Theory was their best effort. They had limited budget and time making that album and I liked it more than Meteora, which was their last good effort from what I've listened to since. Reanimation may be one of the best remix albums I've ever owned.
It's hard to say what drove me towards their music. Part of it had to with the sound collages maybe the depression and angst spoke more to me than I care to admit. I'd always tell my rational mind that I don't hear voices in my head, or that I don't have mental issues outside of learning disabilities. That the artists I listened to felt real pain and I don't. Of course that's bullshit, but it's been my long coping mechanism to deny anything wrong with me and think I'm okay. I'm not saying that I've never had suicidal thoughts, but that I mask it as a wish I was never born sentiment because you don't admit you'd be selfish enough to leave your loved ones behind after how many years and resources they poured into you, but unexisting is okay because they'd be none the wiser and had never spent the money and hardship ensuring your continual existence. So even if I theoretically thought I should go off myself, my anxiety would get in the way of doing it. Admitting that I've thought this out loud makes me real antsy because we don't talk about these notions.
We live in a society that treats suicide as the ultimate taboo. You don't admit to that train of thought, or sympathy towards those who take it further. You just don't. It's considered cowardly, selfish, sinful and we don't talk about it except to scorn the dead and move on, while continuing to curse their name if brought up. It's why I think adapting Thirteen Reasons Why was a stupid move. You can't tell that story because the answer's always, suicide's bad. There's nothing interesting, or though provoking you can do with the subject because of it's limitations. It has none of the complexity and grey areas as taking another life.
One thing that keeps ringing through my mind from my time on Tumblr. There's so many posts that try to assure us that we don't owe others our emotional welfare, our bodies, our existence, but doesn't the taboo against suicide say otherwise? Perhaps I'm making some fallacy here, but the argument against suicide always boils down to the people dependent on you that you screwed over offing yourself. You screwed them of financial support, of emotional welfare, of love, and showers of hugs and kisses, consultation, conversations and experiences. It always boils down to that.
At the end of the day I have no judgement on Chester Bennington, or his fans, or naysayers, but everybody else I know will. I know if it had been a drug overdose this would have been more divisive than what it is. We're not supposed to say he's no longer suffering. We're supposed to say he's burning in hell for what he did to his family, and what he did against perceived spiritual intentions.
In the end it doesn't even matter anymore. His family's opinions about this matter more than our collective experience as fans, moralizing naysayers and trolls.
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