So the question with Armstrong was, while bringing an innately different presence, could she fulfill dual roles that Bennington brought to the band in performance — as alternately a singer and a shredder? She can, and then some, most obviously in the songs that call upon the latter. Armstrong is, to borrow a term from a different medium, a scream queen. And if you have a taste for that as a vocal talent, there were many, many moments in Thursday’s Forum show that were thrilling to behold, even as they made you wonder what kind of vocal coach Armstrong has that has assured her she can get away with doing that to her vocal cords over the course of tours to come. That’s her problem (if it is one; let’s hope not), but for as long as she’s got that magnificently ravaged rasp within her, it’s to our benefit.

Does she do it exactly the way Bennington did, in tone as well as sheer force? Of course not — there was a soulfulness to his loudest, angriest and most anguished moments that was partly his unique range, and partly a function of him as lyricist. But there’s something about her ferocity in those most howling moments at the Forum that made her seem like an actual punk singer. I do mean it as a compliment. It’s hard to know what Bennington would think of Armstrong as a raging interpreter, but I think he’d be proud. Arthur Janov might be even prouder.

When she wasn’t crouching in a primal bellowing position, Armstrong established that she can stand up straight and sing sweetly and melodically, too, which is an equally important part of the job listing, if not as much the unicorn part of it. An acoustically based section late in the show kicked off with “My December,” a song not played at a Linkin Park show since 2008, with Armstrong singing alongside Shinoda and not much other accompaniment. At that moment, as she settled into a gentle side (but still a deeply melancholy one — this is Linkin Park), it felt like she was home for the holidays.

Dynamics are a big part of why Linkin Park was such a success for its original 17-year run, when not much else massive was happening in rock in the 21st century. The dynamics of constantly shifting duties between Shinoda and Bennington, but also the dynamics of being soft and loud within a song — which Linkin Park could do a lot more subtly than some bands that employ sudden volume shifts for shock effect — and eventually, over their career, small evolutions back and forth between their metal, alternative and electronic impulses. Those all continued to be in play in Wednesday’s show, with firmly anchoring bassist Dave “Phoenix” Farrell and sampler/programmer dude Joe Hahn continuing in the fold, and Colin Brittain now taking over on drums and Alex Feder stepping in as their new touring guitarist. (Hahn continues to be the only guy in the group to get his name in a “song” — “Joe Hahn Solo,” an electronic interlude that kind of serves the trippy function in a set that Mickey Hart’s “Drums” section does in a Dead show.)

Wednesday’s L.A.-area show was the first of six Linkin Park is doing as a super-brief introductory arena tour this year, to be followed by just one other U.S. show on Sept. 16 at New York’s Barclays Center, at New York’s Barclays Center on Sept. 16, followed by dates in Germany, the U.K., South Korea and Colombia. A full tour will follow in 2025, and the band indicated in a Billboard cover story that they’re looking at stadiums for that run.

Can a band that has lost its most magnetic presence return, and sustain, that big? It’s possible that the ecstasy generated among the crowd at the Forum was part of a bubble, just as it’s possible that the surge for Kamala Harris is its own bubble. (Sorry, I said I wouldn’t go back there, and then I did.) Maybe the controversies over this renewal will prove too much for a portion of the old fan base Linkin Park needs to maintain. Maybe factions will object to what they’re hearing about the new singer’s religious affiliations, or about her past associations with one of that religion’s disgraced adherents (though she issued a statement disassociating herself, once that angle started to blow up). Maybe some just won’t want to hear a woman in that role. Some have already expressed the notion that it’s wrong for the band to carry on with any “fill-in.” And, sure, perhaps the new album could suck.

It’s not our place to address every single one of those issues here. But when it comes to the core issue of whether to carry on with different members taking on the duties of keeping repertoire alive, or to let sleeping bands lie… given the choice between preciousness and music, isn’t it always advisable to pick the latter?

And there’s something transformative that has happened with Linkin Park’s music after a seven-year interval. Perhaps the biggest danger in the band coming back was whether touring these old songs by Bennington (on top of Shinoda’s contributions, obviously) would feel like Clinical Depression Cosplay… happy campers at play replicating some of the most relentlessly despondent songs ever committed to record.

I’m relieved to say it didn’t feel that way at the Forum. There’s ongoing catharsis in the powerful expression of this sometimes personally agonized material, whoever wrote all of it, as the sing-and scream-alongs would indicate. Armstrong is able to convey this material with a roar that doesn’t undercut its essential seriousness at all… even as the band is clearly ebullient in the moments when exultation feels like a natural response to this revitalization. At the risk of using memorial-service cliches, this feels like a celebration of life — of Bennington’s, yes, but also of everyone else in the band who deserves a chance to carry on and thrive. And to make 17,000 people a night (or maybe 60,000 a night, next year) very pleased to still be on the planet.

Emily Armstrong and Dave “Phoenix” Farrell perform during the Linkin Park: From Zero World Tour held at Kia Forum in Inglewood on September 10, 2024 in Inglewood, California