Yes, There’s a Scene After the “Linkin Park: Unshatter” End Credits

Mike Shinoda and Emily Armstrong in concert, both singing and standing on the same amplifier stack.

Mike Shinoda and Emily Armstrong knocking it out of the Park, with Alex Farrell and Joe Hahn backing them up.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: In 2024 Linkin Park, the very first band that my son and I ever had in common, released From Zero — their first new album in seven years, after lead singer Chester Bennington’s suicide. I wrote in part:

Mike Shinoda finally felt ready to record a revival with his bandmates, along with a new drummer (music-biz veteran Colin Brittain) and new co-vocalist Emily Armstrong, who reaches Bennington’s octave range (cf. her belt-sander’d screams in the needlessly acroynmized “IGYEIH”) and does her part for the legacy…the band dusts off their stacks and recaptures the first two albums’ nü-metal glory days with quiet-loud-quiet showcases like “The Emptiness Machine” and “Heavy is the Crown”, though their two favorite topics remain self-aware primal-scream sessions and tirades toward unnamed offenders who suck. With the band-reset button firmly pressed, the question of where LP goes from here — i.e, venturing into new ideas or rewriting the same single every few years, like Skillet — remains To Be Continued for now.

After recently wrapping up a two-year world tour, their story continues with Linkin Park: Unshatter, a documentary that’s been rolled out as a specialty theatrical release with limited showtimes and no AMC Premiere savings allowed. It isn’t a Behind the Music episode surveying their entire history for the uninitiated — more of a From Zero making-of, charting their gradual emergence from the throes of grief and rage to figure out what comes next. (Quoth the familiar lyric on the movie’s poster: “The hardest part of ending is starting again.”) At 54 it was my first time ever seeing a concert film in theaters, or anything like one because my favorite bands never make them.

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Best CDs of 2024 According to an Old Guy Who Bought 11

11 CDs on our kitchen table, capsule reviews to follow.

The nominees, alphabetically.

Hi, I’m Fat Casey Kasem and welcome to another music listicle, but not a Top Ten because I bought one too many!

As part of my annual series of year-in-review entries, I remain one of six people nationwide who still prefers compact discs to digital downloads. My hangups about vinyl would require a separate essay unto themselves. My new-album splurges are rare because: (a) it’s increasingly tougher for new music to catch my ear as I grow older and more finicky; and (b) my favorite yesteryear acts died, stopped recording, or swiveled in directions away from me. That usually means missing out on what majorities loves, thus further dropping me down the bottomless wishing well into total irrelevance as chronicled on this very website, thirteen years and counting.

In 2024 I bought brand new studio albums from eleven acts, omitting any pre-2024 finds or gifts, and not counting non-studio releases we’ll cover at the end. It can be fun to walk past the cool-collectors’ vinyl bins to the way-back by the T-shirt rack and pick through what passes for in-person CD sections today, though I’m seeing diminishing returns as those get smaller and dustier, sometimes not even alphabetized.

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Best CDs of 2014, According to an Old Guy Who Bought Ten

Sonic Highways!

The Foo Fighters’ Sonic Highways was far from my favorite album, but its eight-city metropolitan hodgepodge was definitely my favorite album cover.

It’s that time of year again! Even though my musical tastes don’t match anyone geographically near me, aren’t becoming any more stylish as I age, sometimes don’t fit well with my faith, and are increasingly leaning toward a uniform power-pop pageant, I do still like owning physical albums with all-new songs recorded and sequenced by the artists. I prefer CDs while driving because I can pop them in and out of the player with sufficient dexterity and without crashing, because local commercial radio enjoys being terrible, and because, last time I checked, the pre-installed satellite radio won’t accept monthly payments. And any digital music I accumulate tends to sit on my hard drive ignored and/or forgotten

(For more about that segment, I refer you to my thoughts on U2’s free Songs of Innocence, as previously discussed.)

The following list, then, comprises every CD I acquired in 2014 that was also released in 2014. Back-catalog materials are forbidden from inclusion, though for what it’s worth Mike Doughty’s 2011 album Yes and Also Yes deserved to be bought much sooner.

Right this way for lots of, well, white-guy rock!

Best CDs of 2012, According to an OId Guy Who Bought Seven

Whether on or off the Internet, I very rarely discuss music. I was a typical top-40 fan as a child, but segued to “alternative music” circa 1989 thanks to the late-night lineups of Post-Modern MTV and 120 Minutes that kept me company over homework into the wee hours every evening. I’ve followed musical acts of varying degrees of talent and volume ever since. I don’t consider myself finicky, but I’m not interested in 99% of the bands that receive mainstream coverage nowadays. I rarely discover new bands because local radio is a joke and I haven’t felt compelled to subscribe to satellite radio yet. You can bet the aging process hasn’t exactly broadened my vistas. As for the disparate gulf between my lifelong musical tastes and my present-day spiritual mindset, that’s a subject for another essay altogether.

I have the hardest time keeping track of when the musicians I still follow finally release new albums, but in 2012 I stumbled across six such occasions, and on another occasion tried one (1) relatively new act with pleasing results. I also bought one reissue, relegated to a separate category of its own. The following list scratches the surface of my purchasing preferences and may or may not provide any insight into me at all.

And just so we’re clear, I really did buy all seven albums on CD. My disdain for collecting digital music is also a subject for another essay altogether.

On with the countdown:

7. Joey Ramone, “…Ya Know?”. If I’m understanding the candid liner notes correctly, the Ramones frontman’s first album since his death in 2004 was constructed from vocal recordings acrimoniously wrested through litigious means from the hands of frequent Ramones collaborator Daniel Rey. The bulk of the posthumous backup-band work is by Joey’s brother Mickey Leigh, late-’80s Ramones producer Ed Stasium, and assorted studio musicians, though a few familiar names also contributed — mid-’80s bandmate Richie Ramone; Bun E. Carlos from Cheap Trick; Steven Van Zandt; Dennis Diken from the Smithereens; and Joan Jett, though her part is reduced to backing vocals on “21st Century Girl” rather than a true duet. It’s nice to hear one last Joey collection, though the assemblage of various artists creates a sterile, corporate-bar-band sound too diluted to approximate the vintage Ramones buzzsaw sound. (Sample track: “Rock ‘n Roll is the Answer“.)

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