

“One Step Closer” already contained the ingredients to become a top radio fixture, but the vocals of the late Chester Bennington would make the song an anthem for late adolescent/early adult push back. As Linkin Park fans would grow accustomed to over the next few decades, Bennington launches into the song lyrics with a subtleness which is nearly a whisper: “I cannot take this anymore / Saying everything I've said before / All these words they make no sense / I find bliss in ignorance.” Without warning, Chis diaphragm conveys power, passion and pain, taking the lead over drums, bass, keyboards, and sampling to communicate the cathartic chorus “I need a little room to breathe / 'Cause I'm one step closer to the edge / I'm about to break.” The heavy bass and adrenaline inducing drum pounding that was redefining modern rock within a subgenre of “Nu Metal,” with a sprinkling of hip-hop for good measure, was expanding my musical playlist at the time.

They were musically in-sync in the way that the best rock bands had garnered my attention over the previous three years.


It was all of these things, but it was more of the connection with my own teenage emotion that helped draw me to the new band Linkin Park. It wasn’t just that the magnetism of Brad Delson’s opening guitar riffs or the familiarity of Joe Hahn’s cuts and scratches that invited a kid like me who had almost exclusively been a hardcore hip-hop listener until the late ‘90s. Societal angst intersected with my personal trepidation during that spring, as I prepared for high school graduation. The dreaded process of awaiting college acceptance serves as the formal introduction to adulthood for many and can be particularly stressful when your high school career was as mediocre as mine. The many pressures and expectations that add to the heavy load of transitioning from adolescence to adulthood bring you close to many breaking points, which is why I felt connected to the song “One Step Closer” when I heard it in the fall of 2000. I’m an ‘80s baby, so much of my childhood was spent having imaginative conversations about the possibilities that awaited beyond the year 2000. As life would have it, I mostly remember anxiety during the final weeks of 1999, instead of excitement. Widespread tension arose regarding a major glitch in computer programming and to what extent the ramifications of the “Y2K bug” would impact our daily routines. Even after our clocks tick-tocked past January 1, 2000, there seemed to be a lingering uncertainty about living on the other side of a new millennium. Happy 20th Anniversary to Linkin Park’s debut album Hybrid Theory, originally released October 24, 2000.
