This article should not have been written.
But because it is, that means I am at home—and not at the Linkin Park concert at the Mall of Asia tonight. I really should’ve been. But the money that I would’ve used for tickets came too little too late.
So to console myself, I posted a number of Linkin Park videos online.
Jake replied, “but in the end, it doesn’t even matter.” The pun was intended. I think. Someone on radio pointed out that Linkin Park lyrics could sound kinky.
I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
Unless you don’t live in the Philippines and remain unaware of a certain brand of condom, the humor will escape you. That aside, we kept replying Linkin Park lyrics of “In the End” until Jake said to repeat loop ad infinitum. That triggered a memory.
March 24, 2003. I lined up for the release of Linkin Park’s “Meteora” album. The music CD came with a The Making of Meteora CD, a two dollar ticket for cinema concert (or something—never went so I don’t know), and a shirt. But not just any shirt: only 300 people in the Philippines have actual, genuine shirts of Meteora.
Purchase and freebies aside, one other thing that made that event memorable: I and everyone else who lined up for the album had to listen to “Somewhere I Belong.” And only that one song. It’s a 3:33 song. We stood there for about two hours. Do the math on the number of repeats. I never thought it would’ve been possible but I got sick of the song in one day.
So when I was listening to the CD on the way home, predictably, I skipped “Somewhere I Belong.”
Years later, as I write this, I tried listening to that song again. Still can’t last past three repeats. I love Linkin Park. I miss the concert. Save for that one song.