Chester Bennington: the voice of a generation
My little brother texted me last night.
My little brother texted me last night.
The last time I spoke to him was at the end of March. I’d just taken him to his first proper gig (Creeper - and yes, he jumped in the pit for Milk Teeth) and he loved it. See, with five years between us, different dads, a shared bedroom and me out the door by the time he turned sixteen, we’ve never been as close as we could be.
There’s never been a lot of common ground, but we happily shared acres of it for Linkin Park. We watched the video for ‘Breaking The Habit’ on our newly installed Freeview; spent afternoons lost in their ‘Live At Texas’ DVD, and when I asked Chester and Mike to sign a vinyl copy of ‘Hybrid Theory’ for him a few weeks earlier, Chester asked for his name straight away. There’s always been a touch of the personal to Linkin Park’s frontman.
It’s why Jack texted me, “It’s like a part of my childhood has died with him.”





