Before Linkin Park Abu Dhabi 2026: Remembering Chester Bennington, the voice that raised a generation

Linkin Park was a series of firsts, in every possible way.

Before them, my understanding of music, anything outside India had been rather staggered: Starting with flashes of Eminem, memories of Simon and Garfunkel, Beatles, Ozzie Osbourne, and other eclectic choices, courtesy my cousin’s moods and whatever they played during my summers in Kerala. I picked up bits and pieces here and there, collecting them along with Metallica, and even Megadeth, much to the confusion of my parents.

 In other words, I didn’t listen to albums fully; it was just piecemeal.  And then, I was introduced to Linkin Park's Somewhere I Belong, before even Numb. It was the first time I found what it means to have music speak to you. The lyrics struck: ‘I was confused, and I let it all out to find, that I’m not the only person with these things in mind’---a jarring, haunting face-off between Chester Bennington and Mike Shinoda, before Bennington takes over like he always does: ‘I want to heal. I want to feel. I want to let go of the pain I felt so long.”

 And one part that always seared, even then, even if I couldn’t grasp the complete angst and severity of it: ‘I will never be anything, until I break away from me.’

I didn’t know much back then about Bennington. I just fell for the words, the lyrics and the music that comforted every other confused, and perhaps lonely teenager like I was. Somewhere I belong. That’s all everyone wants to know.

 That began my journey with Linkin Park. It was a time of cassettes, so I bought both Meteora and Hybrid Theory---both of which, still exist, like a little treasure box stowed away. It was the first time that I finished listening to albums completely.

It was also the time of MSN messenger so like every other moody teenager, I did put most of the lyrics as my ‘MSN’ statuses, because how else do you convey to others what you’re going through? So, I went through the phases of writing, Breaking The Habit lyrics: ‘I don’t want to be the one, the battles always choose. Because inside, I realise I’m the one confused’

 Perhaps, I was dramatic. Maybe, a little extra. But I held on to each and every one of those Linkin Park songs like a close friend. I didn’t know what Bennington was going through at first, but it became a belief for those who grew up with those songs: It’s for us. It’s saving us.

And that's how, Bennington’s voice, lyrics became the soundtrack of our childhood. There’s something too immortal in songs like In The End, Numb, One Step Closer, Papercut and Crawling. I watched the videos, absorbed them all; and kept re-watching Points of Authority for some reason, which showed clips of the band on stage. Bennington singing. Bennington with the peace sign.

Years passed, new songs and albums came and went, cassettes gave way to iPods and then Spotify playlists, and I moved through each phase—sometimes with the same childhood energy, sometimes with less.

But I didn’t return to the new ones often; it was the old favourites that stuck to my playlists firmly and saw me through exam preparations in school, college, my MA and dissertation. Somehow, nothing could get me to write more emphatically than, the stellar five: Papercut, Faint, In The End, Somewhere I belong and Numb.

 In 2017, the news of Bennington’s death was raw. Visceral. Keeping to its tradition of the firsts in my life---for the first time, a celebrity’s death affected me deeply. It was numbing.

In the newsroom that day, there was a sense of quiet numbness, as the few fans we were, set about piecing together tributes, eulogies and news pieces about Bennington.

How do you mourn for someone you didn’t know? But you do. You knew them through their music, and yet, you still didn’t quite know them. The lyrics and pain started making more sense than it ever had before. There was a difference in the way I listened to Linkin Park songs after that: There was a distinct heaviness on hearing the lyrics that had once been so entrenched in my childhood.

For the first time, I wished that I had known Bennington, the stories behind the voice. It mattered in the end. It always did.

And, I felt profusely sorry that I hadn't known before. It's a scarring lesson: To maybe, just answer the music that had once spoken to you. And know what really was the reason behind the words. Another first.

It’s 2025, they have a new singer now: Emily Armstrong. I was rebellious and angry at first. No one could be Bennington. No one. We like to hold on to our past memories so firmly, that sometimes, the thought of anything touching it, sears.

But I heard the new songs. I did enjoy them, I’ll admit. I’ll also be in line, queuing and hoping that I get a ticket for the Abu Dhabi concert. I will listen, cheer and headbang, perhaps shed tears when In The End plays. The past needs to make way for the present, and I’ll be ready.

And when I want to find pieces of myself, I’ll return to Bennington’s Linkin Park — to the place where I first belonged.