Chester And Me

Petrusich-Chester-Bennington

I don’t take much pleasure in writing these sorts of things, but I feel that putting thoughts and feelings into words, can alleviate some of the gravity that Chester Bennington’s death has had on me personally. Honestly, I spent a good hour after glimpsing the headline, willing it, imploring for it not to be true, and someone had started some sick joke, like the occasional internet prankster will instigate fake death rumours of minor celebrities. I refused to believe it, outright defiantly unless it came from Linkin Park themselves. And an hour later my heart sank, as Mike Shinoda, a man whose craft I have respected for over 15 years, confirmed it was the truth.

I was very quiet that evening. Trying to process the disbelief and shock I’ve found myself in. 24 hours later and it still doesn’t seem real. I still don’t really know what to say. But I want to try and give you an idea. Even if it seems nothing but an incoherent stream of thought.

I became aware of Linkin Park’s existence around 2001, maybe 2002, when Kerrang was first available on my parents’ TV and my mum would play the In The End video whenever it came on. She loved that song so much, she bought it on single, in a time when singles from a plethora of musical talents came on CDs and were easily obtainable in the same capacity. I too grew to love the song, so much so that years later, I would perform Mike Shinoda’s rap parts in front of my high school class, with two other friends. I looked ridiculous in a short sleeve shirt with dragons on and spiked up hair, but whatever, I was only 12 years old. The deal was that for the performance, I would do the rapping parts, and my friends would sing Chester’s parts, and I complied with their request. Almost. The problem is the simplest words can be the most powerful, and the most catchy, and without trying to steal their spotlight too much, I couldn’t help myself. To this day, the vocals on that bridge are something I still aspire to mimic perfectly. Voice breaking aside, 16 years on I’d like to think I’m getting somewhere close. But I could say that for a lot of Linkin Park’s vocals. There are just some songs in their discography, that specific moments have a certain emotional frequency or delivery that I wish I could imitate. In The End. Somewhere I Belong. Paper Cut. Waiting For The End. From The Inside. Breaking The Habit. I can’t scream to save my life, but the contests I would have to try and hold that scream near the end on Given Up. Truly crazy.

The main contact, or true constant that Linkin Park really had on my life however, was in 2003, the year Meteora was released, and the year my parents’ marriage ended. That album was on repeat in my mum’s car to and from school, so in a sense, you could say that Meteora was the soundtrack to my parents’ divorce. I never truly saw it that way until recently when I listened to that album in full again a few months ago. It was never the most pleasant time in my life, I won’t lie, but I didn’t associate that album with bad memories, and I don’t now, having listened to it irrespective of that time period. I still think that album is incredible, quite honestly. Yet… With Chester’s passing, it does feel like it will eventually become another form of closure on that part of my life. I have grown so much and far beyond that 10 year-old boy I remember, that any lasting impact seems so superficial now, but the imprint of Meteora and the raw emotion in those vocals, it still has a connection to that time, and it does sting right now.

I have never claimed to be their biggest fan. Hell, I can’t stand Crawling and Numb by them. Conversely, I loved it when Jay-Z fused Encore with Numb, for some reason I enjoy it a lot more because of it. Numb has some truly powerful words in it, but there is a self-destructive anguish in it that is incredibly overbearing to me, and I find it hard to enjoy it for that reason. Yet whenever they were releasing a new album, especially after following Minutes To Midnight, I’d give the new single a chance. Results varied. I liked some of them. I didn’t like some of them. What I think matters more is I’ve always admired their guts to experiment with their sound despite the public reaction.

But even as I reach close to a quarter decade in age, Chester’s words, emotions and influence are still finding a way of speaking to me.

The bridge of Somewhere I Belong currently feels like words to live by right now, as I try to make a better life for myself. Leave Out All The Rest has always been a song I have considered for my funeral, and nowadays does make me cry. Lord knows I might be in hysterics when I hear it next. The beginning of Faint I truly consider to be one of the greatest song openings ever in terms of immediate impact and hook. Points of Authority will always be a staple of DJ sets for me. And as far as trying to match his vocals goes, nothing will stop me from trying. Maybe one day I’ll be able to nail them, but it just goes to show how deep his presence has been through out my life, and perhaps why this latest loss in not only the rockstar realm, but in the battle against depression and mental health issues, cuts far deeper than I realised.

Another extraordinary talent, that seemingly succumbed to his demons.

Rest in peace, Chester.

Normally, this is the part of the article where I make a quirky plea to like, follow and subscribe to the site if you so wish. Given the sombre nature of this piece, I’m waiving that gesture for this, but if you feel that you want to, then the links to do so are here:

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Track of the Week: Dye The Flux – Lunacy

This has been a moment years in the making. A moment arguably in the making since the 31st October 2013. The date when Dye The Flux released their first EP ‘SHARK!’ to a room of 50+ people at the University of Surrey. A moment so vivid it shall no doubt live on in my memories. But this is not about living in memories, Dye The Flux have always been all about looking forward, hence why since the release of their terrific debut EP, they were already laying the groundwork for the next release. A release that experienced multiple complications before it reached this point. While quickly reaching the upper echelons of Guildford’s incomparably diverse live scene, an unfortunate wrist injury to their bassist, backing vocalist, and founding member Ieuan Horgan took them out of performing, and almost performing together again. Tasked with either his replacement or calling it a day, the boys instead went in separate directions, waiting out a year’s gruelling rehabilitation, of which a complete recovery was eventually made.

Finally returning to the stage with new material in hand, two years since their last appearance, and with a new drummer in tow, Dye The Flux’s live return was an emotional one, built on frustration, anger but sheer joy in persevering in the face of adversity. Yet it seemed as soon as they were return to the stage, they seemed to disappear off of it just as rapidly. To continue writing for could’ve been labelled their fabled sophomore EP. Admittedly, there has always been the tenacity and work ethic of this talented four piece that has never stopped them doing what they’ve loved. So despite a second drummer departure and months of songwriting and production with acclaimed producer Jason Wilson, we arrive here a little under four years later, at the first glimpse of their second EP ‘FOX’ and the welcome sound of four warriors, who only know to fight or die and have returned to tell their tale.

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Credit: Yulia Hauer

As has become their calling card, sizeable, urgent chords lead us in alongside punchy percussion, instantly pulling you into a fast-paced fistfight that’s as captivating as it is ferocious. Bright, clean vocals put the madness of society and the human condition to rights, delivered with a confidence and a smirk that is endlessly pleasing amongst the raucousness of the riffs bombarded at you. Perhaps an indirect nod to the notion of insanity, but the refrain of ‘Lunacy,’ frequent throughout, partnered with both the wah-infused hammer-ons and rapid snare bashes is such a powerful hook, you’ll be humming it for weeks. Whether it can be called a chorus or not, stripping it back to a single guitar, rolling off riffs near-effortlessly, while vocals harmonise, backed by drum rolls that sound like cannon fire, serves as just as powerful a hook, steadily increasing tension as it does so. And the intensity only shifts from gear to gear. Chords gather pace, interspersed between quick, fiery licks, and you can physically feel the danger level heightening with every note change. The tipping point is reached at the solo; a passage of double-time picking, with the second guitar throwing authoritative blows to the face and snares and cymbals issuing a countdown to chaos. Bass soon matches the speed of the fast picking, a feat technically impressive in its own right, and after tremendous restraint, the thrashing beast that has threatened and been teased for the course of the song is finally unchained. It really serves as an excellent metaphor for lunacy in motion, the loss of inhibition and the inevitable loss of control we could find ourselves in, inside and outside of a live environment. This is only agitated by the new found snarl in the vocals, a pummeling of aggressive chords and guitar gallops, and drums keeping the adrenaline pumping, while showcasing a far greater technical prowess than we’ve seen before. And we end on the note of four musically skilled gentlemen looking far more feisty than we saw three minutes ago.

It’s truly difficult to pin down an exact comparison point for sound, former Surrey stalwarts Reuben being the closest reaching example, yet passing instances of Deftones, Incubus and even Biffy Clyro, glimmer and fade just as quickly in Lunacy alone. But any claims that they embody any of those bands, does not do them any justice. What music they have created over the last four or so years shares a certain hardcore sensibility with any of those bands for sure, but their sound is ultimately theirs and theirs alone. Lunacy is cathartic and at times, nerve-shredding, but one of the most thrilling three-minute bursts of music I’ve undoubtedly heard this year. All it shows that Dye The Flux are hungrier, harder-working and as passionate as ever, and as a band constantly looking forward, and with the breadth of talent they possess, we can see that the best is certainly yet to come.

Lunacy is taken from their second EP ‘FOX’ which has yet to be released, but you will find it available once it is, on their Bandcamp page. You can purchase Lunacy on Spotify and iTunes in the mean time. Live dates are also yet to be announced. Right now, you can listen to their previous EP ‘SHARK!’ on their Soundcloud, and can only get your own physical copy from them in person. You could probably get a digital copy from them too if you asked them nicely, but I’ll leave that up to you. Buy a shirt whilst you’re on their Bandcamp anyway.

Write them a love letter and tell them I sent you right here:

http://www.facebook.com/DyeTheFlux
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And if you ever feel like doing the same to me, then you can do so with just a like, a follow or by subscribing to the site, that would be the best love letter of them all:

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